A perfect Ottolenghi-inspired Valentine meal, with a dash of imperfection

When my husband and I got married, among the wedding gifts we received from a family friend were signed editions of every cookbook issued by celebrated chef Yotam Ottolenghi. Our friend lives in London, and she was excited to share Ottolenghi's delicious recipes with us because she had enjoyed his cooking with her husband.

In our nearly two years of marriage, I have loved sifting through the gorgeous pictures in Ottolenghi's cookbooks, planning elaborate meals that seem always to call for a sprinkling of lovely pomegranate seeds atop some masterpiece of eggplant, lamb, or fennel. And then there are the decadent desserts - puffy pink meringues; apricot, walnut, and lavender cake; and cardamom rice pudding with pistachios and rose water.

So I approached Ottolenghi's latest addition to the repertoire, Nopi (Ten Speed Press), with romance already in mind. It seemed only natural to plan an entire meal from its pages as a way to celebrate Valentine's Day: I chose a starter of creamy burrata with blood oranges and a lavender-infused oil; for the main dish, a gorgeous pistachio- and pine-nut-crusted halibut in a sea of green arugula vichyssoise; and for dessert, a chocolate ganache with orange-infused olive oil, freshly crushed spices, and crème fraîche.

Of course, cooking, like marriage, sometimes requires adjustments along the way - to expectations. In my mind, the meal would be executed flawlessly, the dishes would resemble the gorgeous photos in the cookbook, and would be ready in perfect order.

In reality, I had to make multiple substitutions and use arugula that was not exactly in season. I burned the cardamom seeds - twice - before finally toasting them correctly. Not to mention, I had to save dessert for breakfast because I forgot to cook it far enough in advance.

But here's the great part: Every bite was delicious. We still had a wonderfully romantic meal - even after I'd set off the smoke alarm (coriander seeds toast quickly) and shed tears over the gloppy texture of my lavender-infused oil. It wasn't perfect, but it was still wonderful and special, and I guess that's the reality of romance, as well.

I still recommend starting a meal with the burrata appetizer, which was truly divine. Apparently, Nopi, Ottolenghi's Soho restaurant (after which the cookbook is named), sells 1,000 of these appetizers every month, and it's easy to see why. It's perfectly balanced in flavor and texture.

But in cooking it at home, I wish I had known that my lavender-infused oil would look, well, rather icky, before I decanted it. The recipe calls for briefly simmering dried lavender buds, salt, a smashed clove of garlic, and some honey with olive oil in a pan. Trouble was, once I set it to cool, the honey congealed with the flowers and the garlic into a glob that sat apart from the oil. Did it work? Yes, the oil tasted lovely, with a slight floral and savory essence that paired perfectly with the toasted coriander seeds (don't skip those; they're key), so the infusion worked. It just needed some adjustments before it was presentable.

I could not find blood oranges, so I used Cara Cara oranges, which are sweet and have a love-pink flesh perfect for a romantic dish.

The fish recipe had to be adapted, as well. First off, the store was out of halibut, so I went with cod. And although I found arugula, I thought the vichyssoise would taste much more peppery using fresh, farmers' market arugula vs. whatever one can find in the produce section in February.

But take heart: This recipe is already a substituted version of the original, which calls for nettles and lovage rather than arugula and parsley. Even Ottolenghi knows you often have to adjust to what's available. If you're using winter arugula like I was, add a little extra arugula and parsley stems and a dash more freshly ground black pepper, and make sure you cook the greens as little as possible - I even eliminated the final warm-up at the end, tossing the cold, blanched leaves straight into the blender for the final puree. The color of the vichyssoise was still stunning, and the sweet nuttiness of the fish was offset perfectly with the crunchy radishes.

Another piece of advice in order to avoid one of my missteps: Make dessert first. The ganache should sit in the refrigerator overnight, and then be set out two hours before eating in order to soften properly.

Also, use the best-quality chocolate you can find, as this dessert depends on high-quality ingredients.

Both this and the fish recipe call for superfine sugar. But instead of buying that little-used ingredient, you can blast regular granulated sugar in a food processor to pulverize it.

I don't have a spice grinder, so I used a mortar and pestle to crush all the fresh whole spices listed here: cinnamon stick, star anise, cardamom pods, black peppercorns, and coriander seeds. The result was a little rustic. The recipe calls for you to grind "until completely fine," but I ran out of patience, time, and stamina. Yet, the fresh-ground and -toasted spices made a huge difference. Avoid using preground spices for this, as you'll miss out on some of the magic of the nut-spice mixture.

And I implore you, do not forget to add a dash of nice salt on top of the chocolate, orange oil, and crème fraîche before serving. It ties the whole package together. I used fresh sea salt, but pink Himalayan salt would be an eye-catching touch.

Finally, do not forget to toast your beloved before tucking into the first bite, and, then, savor the expression of love.