Monday, June 11, 2012

Sell the Sizzle

Now that my husband and children are home all day long in the summer, the most oft asked question every day is, "What are we eating?"

To which I answer, "What'cha cookin?"

My husband is more likely to respond to this question with an actual food based answer.  He's happy to take over many of the cooking duties since his English and history teaching ass is not in the classroom.  Cooking food that he wants to eat is fun for him.  Fun for me too.  He puts in more effort than I feel is necessary to feed a family.  Except for special occasions, I'm over it for every meal of every single day for the rest of my liifffe-fff-faaahh.

Justin has learned none of his cooking skills from me.  He's learned them from television.  He's taken the advice of Guy Fieri to heart and cooked food with plenty of smoked meats, cheeses, and spices racier than dried flaked parsley.  Cooking shows are some of his favorites.

Just today we were watching a female chef prepare a nice thin piece of butterflied marinated flank steak.  Looked good to me.  Looked good to Justin too.  Only takes moments to prepare and throw on the table.

However, it was when the flank steak was being plated that the chef pronounced the death knell on her recipe for Justin.

She said her flank steak would be great to prepare for any Dad in your life for Father's Day.

You know, because men like steak. 

Even really cheap tough steak you have to marinate the hell out of so it seems special for a holiday honoring men.  Ooh the euphemisms you could pull out of that menu!

Justin stood, raised his fist and declared that if the menu on Father's Day included meat, it should be in the royal family of great meats.  Like bacon wrapped sirloin or a standing rib roast.  Cooked low and slow.  It should not be meat that requires any chewing before swallowing. 



I told him that flank steak, at the very least, was better than a golf or a necktie themed present.  The moment you become a Dad you suddenly acquire an obsession with the lie of your ball, right?  Or shame over your neck being naked.  Or presents that are manly colors, like forest green or midnight blue.

He agreed.  Golf and tie presents suck rocks.  That still doesn't forgive flank steak.

I said it wouldn't be enough of a dinner anyway.  There must be a side dish that says you love Dad.  My suggestion was a spinach salad sprinkled with cranberries and dry roasted almonds.  Healthy because Dads need to watch their ever expanding waistlines.  Heart health is important.

Incensed about salad, Justin suggested serving flank steak with a side of prostitute.

So, no one bother me this Sunday morning. I'm going to be doing a hell of a lot of marinating.

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