Twenty-one years ago today a photographer living in a garage apartment in Palm Beach agreed to have dinner with me. She stunned me. By the end of the meal, my cheeks ached from grinning, I was so happy. Donna drove a white Alfa Romeo convertible and as I said goodnight to her in the balmy Florida air, I promised not to call her (she was just getting out of a relationship and needed space, she'd call me). I called her the next day and two years later we were married. We don't celebrate Valentine's Day and even our anniversary feels secondary to this, the date of our first meal together at 264 on South County Road. Her background is photojournalism—she worked for a newspaper and magazine when we met. She is not a foodie and has no interest in food porn. But she does enjoy the lighting and colors and shapes to be found in the kitchen and I wanted to publicly say thank you to you, Donna, for helping me in so many ways, not least of which are pix for this space.