You do not want love advice from me.

I am the last person you should turn to for tips on how to impress your significant other, because when it comes to matters of significance, I don't know what I'm doing. Any time I make a lame attempt at courtship and seduction, I end up feeling stupid and wishing I were home watching Alias, blissfully alone and wearing sensible cotton underwear.

Am I the only one who thinks Valentine's Day is a social nightmare? Much like New Year's Eve, it ends up being anticlimactic, especially if you expect too much. Around this time of year, discussions always involve the most romantic restaurants in town, and the "eroticism of food": all the tired ripened-fruit imagery, the food-and-sexuality references, the fluff articles about foods with supposed aphrodisiac qualities.

Like red roses and heart-shaped chocolates, romantic restaurants are sweet, benign, and well-intentioned; but I am not interested in first-date food. I hate eating on my best behavior. For me, intimate food has nothing to do with white linen and candlelight and a hovering sommelier. Some of the most romantic meals I've ever experienced have been over eggs and shitty diner coffee after a slow, sweet morning; fries and beer in the wee hours, when I was drunk and sleepy but not wanting the night to end; or ethnic foods with new flavors and smells, unusual spices lingering suggestively on my tongue.

Traditional aphrodisiacs--what writer Isabel Allende calls "the bridge between gluttony and lust"--tend to make me a bit queasy: oysters and champagne (raw shellfish + sugary, bubbly alcohol = trouble), or the classic Saint Valentine's Italian dinner, thick with amore and ambiance (garlic breath + pasta bloat = NOT SEXY), are popular ideas that I wish we'd hurry up and retire already, along with matching bridesmaid dresses and the Brazilian bikini wax. If you agree, maybe you'll want to try some of my favorite places this year for Valentine's Day weekend. I may be a total train wreck in the romance department, but when it comes to eating, I always get lucky.

Ethiopian

Now this is intimacy. Ethiopian cuisine can be so romantic simply because you're eating with your fingers, scooping up shared bites from the same platter. This is couple food, family food, eating with those you trust. This is also the height of sensuality: sweet honey wine and strong, dark coffee; distinct Ethiopian seasonings that are rich and exciting, like niter kebbeh (flavored butter), curries, cardamom, turmeric, paprika, ginger, cinnamon, chilies, and berbere paste, flavors that stay with you and heat that spreads slowly throughout your body; and the pleasure of touching everything on the table--squishing down on spongy injera bread, getting sauce on your fingers. (It is, however, considered bad Ethiopian etiquette to lick your fingers clean at the table.) I've even heard of an Ethiopian food ritual that involves a man feeding his bride-to-be three loving gurshas (mouthfuls) of food as a silent marriage proposal.

Assimba (2722 E Cherry St, 322-1019) and Columbia City's Fasica (3808 S Edmunds St, 723-1971) both offer authentic, delicious Ethiopian fare that will surely bring any couple closer together. Try Fasica's traditionally prepared kitfo--Ethiopian steak tartare, basically, with fresh ground beef loin tossed in niter kebbeh and a spicy house sauce, or doro wot, flavorful stewed chicken with lemon juice and chilies. Assimba's meat combination, along with stewed lamb and beef, also includes wonderful curried cabbage and potatoes and tender collard greens; roasted yellow peas with garlic, a thick purée to dunk your injera into, is softly complex and smoky. "The lentils are sexy," my lunch date declared, "like kissing someone who's just had a drag off a cigarette."

Indian

Head over to Taste of India (5517 Roosevelt Way NE, 528-1575) for other exotic spices and fiery moments. My favorite thing about eating Indian food is being able to smell it on my skin for hours afterward.

Save the Kama Sutra for later: You've got a more seductive selection of tandooris, masalas, vindaloos, and curries to explore at dinnertime. The Stranger's Emily Hall loves the Taste of India's butter chicken--"chicken simmered in butter until it's so tender it hurts, and then served in a creamy tomato bath that's sweet and mellow"--along with fragrant saffron rice mixed with nuts, meats, and spices, and raita (spiced cucumber yogurt). And cardamom rice pudding, according to Hall, will push you "over the edge."

Brazilian

Of course Brazilian food will make you hot. This is a nation, after all, that boasts voluptuous teenaged supermodels; pretty cocktails with sugar cane and passionfruit juice and crushed lime; and a heavy percentage of thong-wearing citizens. Tempero do Brasil's (5628 University Way NE, 523-6229) sublime bacalhau (salt cod) dishes, croquettes, fried cassava, black beans with Brazilian rice, and seafood stews in coconut milk and vibrant seasonings bring to mind sultry humid afternoons and eating outdoors, hot sun on the back of your neck.

Sushi

I don't think sushi is sexy at all. It is uptight food--clean and perfect and meticulously arranged--served cold on immaculate surfaces in dining rooms that are often several degrees cooler than other restaurants. Although I love the taste of raw fish, it doesn't make me feel particularly amorous--it's too harsh and reserved. But if you're into that sort of thing, I recommend the amazing selection and unusual treats at Chiso (3520 Fremont Ave N, 632-3430), and the gorgeous sashimi platter at Saito's (2122 Second Ave, 728-1333).

Ambiance

If lighting and atmosphere are absolutely essential, then I hope you planned ahead: Most of the obvious romantic spots around town are already booked solid for the 14th, including a few of my favorites: Place Pigalle (81 Pike St, in the Pike Place Market, 624-1756), the Boat Street Cafe (909 NE Boat St, 632-4602), and the Stumbling Goat Bistro (6722 Greenwood Ave N, 784-3535). These places are well worth compromising for, however: Postpone Valentine's Day for just one night, and order Place Pigalle's Montrachet soufflé with oyster mushrooms and port syrup--one of the sexiest things I've ever tasted, light and tall, with a surprisingly subtle finish for goat cheese. Renee Erickson offers simple, elegant food and excellent wines at the Boat Street Cafe, but it's the charming dining room--a former machine shop transformed into a glowing, white-walled hideaway--that wrecks me every time. And it's funny how the Stumbling Goat's chef Craig Serbousek knows how to make my heart melt with those three very special words: "three-pork cassoulet."

If Le Pichet (1933 First Ave, 256-1499) doesn't make you want to quit your job and move to Paris so you can eat stinky cheeses and sip cheap merlot, then I don't know what will. All the details are perfect--everybody has flawless skin in this lighting--but it's chef Jim Drohman's French menu that makes me swoon: the simple, excellent brandade de morue (warm salt cod and mashed potatoes in a ceramic crock with grilled bread and marinated olives); blushing slices of expertly cured meats; and cozy winter food in the form of pan-roasted monkfish with saffron-tomato-fennel sauce, or grilled leg of lamb in a wine-infused pool of rich stock and garlic jus. Late-night boudin blanc and moules frites at the bar can be as thrilling as an extramarital affair (but without the guilt).

The Morning After

This is often the best part--the most intimate meal of all, with no pretensions, no small talk, no makeup. There is a great potential for dinner to be a disaster, but it is entirely possible to fall in love at breakfast.

Le Fournil (3230 Eastlake Ave E, 328-6523) understands this, which is why all of their superb French pastries, breads, and cookies are available starting at 7:00 a.m. (Don't sleep in too much--a lot of the good stuff disappears by 2:00 p.m.) "The good stuff" means still-warm peach croissants and almond brioche dusted with marzipan; cream-filled choux and eclairs; layered mille-feuille and various fruit tartes; and dense chocolate ganache tempered with a double espresso. Valentine's specials include "Pure Passion," a heart-shaped shell filled with passionfruit cream and raspberries, sealed with meringue; and the solid-chocolate "Heart Delice." Sure, that's a lot of sugar shock first thing in the morning. (If you must, my vote for most romantic greasy spoon is the hopelessly nostalgic Salmon Bay Cafe, 5109 Shilshole Ave NW, 782-5539--a quiet marina location and dreamy hollandaise sauce.) But as with love, often what's good and healthy for you isn't necessarily what you crave.