How do you like your steak? I happen to like mine medium well to well-done. Nothing less than medium well, though. The thought of it is making my stomach turn. Mark came home from the store and asked if I wanted to eat steak, to which I said yes. Yummy steak. Steak is one of those things I have to be in the mood for. I was actually looking forward to a big hunk of seasoned, juicy steak for lunch, with some leftover macaroni and chicken salad. Well, I got more than I bargained for …
I got, not one, but three hunks of juicy steak, so juicy I felt the juices squirt as I tore it apart. The first piece was pretty good, not as well-cooked as I’m used to, but still good. The second piece, though, is where I lost my appetite. It was deceptively cooked on the outside, but I bit into it and it was nothing but squishiness. I might just puke now, thinking about it again. Dad said there was blood in it, so yes, definitely not cooked enough for me. The macaroni salad was good, and it was better yesterday, but definitely better than that hideous steak no matter how long it’s been sitting in the fridge.
Anyway, I didn’t get to have the scrumptious steak I was looking forward to. so that was kind of disappointing. Mark is usually not in a rush to get these things done, but he was hungry today, he said.
Mom’s been obsessed with baking lately. She made a lemony cheesecake concoction yesterday, and it actually turned out better than her previous attempts at making cheesecake. The horror … I say that she should let me do it myself next time, instead of trying to dictate how much of what to put in. Anyway, this lemony thing was delightfully delectable! I was tempted to have another piece, but didn’t want to be greedy. Maybe there’s some left … though I seriously doubt it.
