Who says Chef's Dinner Club has to be all about fast and practical, down-and-dirty cooking? Hey, we can appreciate a little romance, too.

        To be honest, Chris Loescher inspired this special Valentine's Day story, by writing to apply to become a member of the Dinner Club way back in September.

        By the time you receive this letter, I will be a newlywed, she wrote.

        Then she told us about her failures in the kitchen — burning orange roughy, overcooking steaks and baking chewy focaccia.

        A cynic might think she was just looking for someone to spare her from the dreaded cooking chores for one night. And by the way, how does a young woman about to get married find the time to draft such a letter?

        But no — maybe cupid nailed us in the ticker, or maybe we just got giddy on coffee one afternoon — we honestly believed Ms. Loescher's plea was sweet and genuine. So we thought we'd treat the newlyweds to a romantic evening by bringing a chef to their home to prepare dinner.

        We already had a chef in mind for this meal — Allen Stickell, the young, creative executive chef of Jump Cafe in Over-the-Rhine and Bella Restaurant, downtown. Mr. Stickell met us at the swank, new Bella at 4 p.m. From there we would make the phone call.

        Like all Chef's Dinner Club stories, we call the member late in the afternoon — with no warning — to ask if we can bring the chef over to cook that evening. We track Ms. Liskiewitz (her name changed after she married Kirk Liskiewitz Sept. 29) to her downtown office, where she works as a compensation analyst.

        But would she answer the phone? Would she say yes? Had the newlyweds already split up because no one in the family could cook fish? (OK, we never thought that was really possible.)

        She does answer the phone, and after she finally remembers writing that sweet application letter (let's face it, she has penned plenty of “thank you” notes since September), Ms. Liskiewitz says “yes” to our offer. Although she normally leaves work at 5:30 p.m., she agrees to meet us at her home in Oakley at 5 p.m.

        Before she hangs up, we put Mr. Stickell on the phone. He asks what she and her husband like to eat, and more importantly, what ingredients they have stocked in their refrigerator and pantry. They have steak, they have potatoes, they have eggs — and the chef has a menu in mind.

        That's the main idea behind the Chef's Dinner Club: The chef prepares the meal using only what the members have at home.

        By the time we arrive, Ms. Liskiewitz has wiped down the counter and cleaned the floors. Except for the two cases of light beer in the fridge, you couldn't tell the couple had hosted a Super Bowl party two days earlier.

        After orienting himself in the kitchen, the chef begins toasting fennel and coriander seed in a pan. He grinds the spices and seasons the rib-eye steaks while Luna, the couple's friendly, fluffy, white Samoyed, watches closely.

        Usually, we ask the chef to prepare dinner in an hour or less. Mr. Stickell needs no convincing, though. His downtown restaurant will seat more than 100 guests at 6 p.m., so he has to whip this meal out fast and get back to help his crew.

        The chef puts the steaks aside for pan searing later and begins dicing new potatoes for risotto. We never had heard of making the rice-based dish with potatoes, but Mr. Stickell explains the spuds will work just like rice in this dish. As they slowly cook, the potatoes release their starch and become creamy-textured, he explains.

        Before adding the potatoes, he sautes chopped onions with bacon, creating a wonderful aroma in the kitchen, making Luna and other bystanders hungry.

        The phone rings while the chef stirs water into the simmering potatoes.

        “I'm not making this up,” Ms. Liskiewitz tells the caller, politely. “I really can't talk.”

        Another benefit of the Chef's Dinner Club: It gives you a legitimate reason to ditch phone solicitors, fast.

        Soon, Mr. Liskiewitz arrives to find a chef, reporter and photographer in his kitchen. His wife called earlier to warn him at work, but he still has that “oh-my-gosh-what-are-these-people-doing-here” look on his face. His new wife never told him about her application to the Dinner Club until today. We hope this isn't the beginning of a serious communication problem.

        By now, Mr. Stickell has finished the potato risotto and puts the steaks on to cook. Next, he's ready to start making a special Valentine's Day dessert: chocolate souffles for two. All he needs is milk, sugar, eggs and cocoa powder.

        “Uh, I don't think we have cocoa powder,” Ms. Liskiewitz responds, hesitantly.

        The chef wonders aloud if she has chocolate of any kind, and maybe some kind of liqueur to flavor the souffles. Ms. Liskiewitz finds a bag of chocolate chips in her cabinet, and then her husband remembers they have a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream somewhere.

        “That'll work,” the chef says.

        Closing the refrigerator, Ms. Liskiewitz turns a little pale. She has discovered she has only two eggs. Eggs are kind of important to making souffles. Two aren't enough.

        “I bet our neighbor has some,” she offers.

        Question is, can we bend the Chef's Dinner Club rules and allow the chef to use ingredients from outside the house?

        The chef is brave enough to attempt something as tricky as souffle in a strange oven. Why not fudge a little?

        Ms. Liskiewitz steps next door and comes back with four eggs. Mr. Stickell goes to work — whipping the egg whites to stiff peaks with sugar, mixing hot milk with the Bailey's and chocolate. When he asks for souffle molds, the Liskiewitzes eagerly offer two new, perfectly sized ceramic ramekins. One thing about working in a newlyweds' kitchen, they have all the right cooking equipment and serving ware.

        The chef slides the souffles into a hot oven. Now comes the scary part — waiting, without peeking, to see if the sweetened egg whites work their magic and rise as designed.

        While we wait, the doorbell rings. It's Bawe Shinholster, dining captain at Jump Cafe, duded up in a dark suit and tie. To make our meal more special, the chef called Mr. Shinholster to bring over a bottle of wine from the restaurant to pair with his culinary creations. But he not only carries a bottle of California zinfandel (Howell Mountain, 1999 “Black Sears Vineyard”) to go with the steaks, but a split of cold champagne for sipping.

        The couple pulls down their wedding champagne glasses as the chef artfully arranges food on their plates. Nearly holding his breath, Mr. Stickell pulls the souffles from the oven. They have puffed up beautifully above the rim of the molds, smelling sweet with chocolate and a hint of coffee.

        With a clink of glasses, the Liskiewitzes toast the chef, who finished cooking in less than an hour. We then leave them to finish their meal. Later, we learn Mr. Liskiewitz volunteered to wash the sink of dishes and pans, left in our wake.

        How romantic.

Recipes

        Toasted Coriander, Fennel and Black Pepper Encrusted Caramelized Rib-Eyes        

        1 tablespoon coriander seed
       1 tablespoon fennel seed
       1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
       Salt, to taste
       2 rib-eye steaks, about 10 ounces each
       Olive oil, as needed

        Toast coriander and fennel seed in dry pan over medium-heat until it smells fragrant, about 3 to 5 minutes. Allow to cool and grind in a spice mill or coffee bean grinder. Combine pepper and salt with ground spices and season steaks on both sides.

        Heat large saute pan over medium-high heat and add a little olive oil. Place seasoned steaks in pan and sear on one side, about 4 to 5 minutes. Turn steaks and repeat searing on second side. When cooked to desired doneness, place steaks on plate and keep warm in oven.

       New Potato Risotto        

        4 cups chicken stock, broth or water
       About 1 cup bacon, cut into strips
       1 onion, diced finely
       3 new potatoes, diced finely
       Grated Parmesan
       Black pepper and salt, to taste

        Bring chicken stock or water to boil, then reduce to simmer.

        In medium pan over high heat, cook bacon until it begins to crisp. Add diced onions and saute until translucent. Add diced potatoes and saute until lightly brown. Begin to add chicken stock a little at a time. Reduce heat to strong simmer and stir constantly, adding hot chicken stock 1/2 cup at a time.

        When potatoes have absorbed all of the stock, season with salt, pepper and grated Parmesan.

        To assemble dish: Cut rib-eye steaks thinly on diagonal and arrange on plates. Spoon potato risotto in center of each plate. Finish with drizzle olive oil, pepper and grated Parmesan.

       Chocolate-Bailey's Cream Souffles        

        1 tablespoon softened butter and sugar, for inside ramekins
        1/2 cup milk
       2 ounces Bailey's Irish Cream

        1 1/2 cups chocolate chips
       5 egg whites
       2 cups sugar

        Heat oven to 400 degrees. Rub butter on inside of two ramekins and sprinkle sides and bottoms with sugar.

        In medium saucepan, bring Bailey's and milk to boil. Reduce heat and simmer a few minutes. Remove from heat and stir in chocolate chips until melted and thick. Allow to cool to room temperature.

        Place egg whites in electric mixing bowl and whip on high, while slowly adding sugar. Stop whisking when egg whites reach stiff peaks. Fold in a little of egg whites into cooled chocolate mixture, then fold in remaining whites.

        Turn mixture into prepared ramekins and quickly slide into preheated oven. Bake 12 to 15 minutes, until souffles have risen above rims of ramekins. Makes 2 servings.

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