Where’s The Beef?!

Tags

, , , ,

So, my favorite farmers market just started selling beef.  I am sold- hook, line and sinker on purchasing the best meat I possibly can for the family.  No pink slime for us, baby.

I asked Mark to come with me to Mater’s to check out their new stash of product.  It is way more expensive than Publix, so I knew I needed the first purchase to be made by Mark so I have an in.

As we have one eyeball focused on the colorful flyer from the farm in Eustis of the cow grazing and the little bio of how this goes from there to Mater’s and yadda yadda, the other eyeball is seeing $10/lb, $15/lb, $18/lb on these little itsy bits of meat.  OMG

Hook, line and sinker.  Mark decides that we are going to get the strip steaks- four of them at $18/lb.  Now, I have Bonanza in my experience bank.  Front line griller, griddler, frier, all round salad bar wench.  I am the grill master at the house.  I am ready! However, our bill was $48 for 4 pieces of deck of card size Eustis we have glorified beef, and at Bonanza we sold a family of four all you can eat from the Freshtastic salad bar and some juicy king ribeyes for a heck of a lot less money than that.

PRESSURE IS ON.

It’s Saturday.  A perfect day for grilling.  So I get the meat out of the freezer to thaw.  Mark thinks its a great day to take the family to a water park.  All in!!  Play for the day and enjoy steak for dinner.

That was the plan until it was 6pm and we were an hour from home and starving.  So we did what we always do, went out for dinner.  By the time we got home, unpacked, did the laundry it was time for bed.

Sunday, I decided to stay home while Mark took the kids to church.  Perfect opportunity for me to finalize the wedding baking I had started that had my kitchen in complete disarray.  I began to clear off the counter when I saw those steaks.

Those steaks thawed out all day all night and were a bit warmishhh.  Holy schmoly batman I am $(%*<‘ed.  I am hopping around like a loony tick, flushed like full blown menopausal wackadoodle and there is no end in site for my panic.

Freaking out, I decide to throw the room temperature Eustis finest into a large Ziploc bag then proceeded to dump olive oil, tons of fresh garlic and the beloved Kosher salt ready for Passover which means blessed for ALL CIRCUMSTANCES and then I chucked the bag into the fridge so it could get a little cold to make it look like it was there all along and there is no problem whatsoever and OMG that salt had better be blessed and I love my family and all…

Mark and the kids get home starved.  I, in my studious Betty Crocker/ Martha Stewart/ Julia Child way, proudly exclaim that the grill’s ready to receive our superly anticipated prime strip steaks and they will be accurately cooked to medium rare in 8 minutes so get the table cleared and set and wash your hands and I love you I love you I love you I love you.

“Maaawwwm, leave us alone!”  “Maawwm, what is your problem?”

It smells sooo good.  I mean draw you into the garlic charring sizzling euphoria of goodness its soo good.

Enjoy. Every.  Last.  Bite.  Enjoyed. Eyes closed, delicioso. Mwua.

Mark: “You know, this beef doesn’t have any kind of antibiotics in it.” “You know our bodies have to get used to fresh beef.” “You know there are different types of bacteria…….”

I am so zoned out I could pass out.  The pressure inside my body is so high that I am going to just be the first to go belly up.

Crying, I now have to confess what has just happened, the whole story.  We can’t go to the pearly gates without my family knowing why.  What am I going to do with them looking at me waiting to be judged for something they didn’t commit and I have to answer them in front of the gates and OMG I blurted it out.  All of it.  Every bit of how I was *(@#’ed either way- tossing the beef or eating the beef.

Mark:  “Where’s the beef?”
Me:  “On the counter!”
Mark: “What?”
Me: “On the counter behind the mixer and I didn’t know until I moved the mixer and I just did it. I was kinda ok with the decision until you started talking about it then I felt guilty not realizing where’s the beef and omg I love you I love you I love you.”

Like Tina would say… to make a long story longer.

It has been two weeks.  Two weeks of checking foreheads, feeling tummies, checking things going in and things coming out of us.  Two weeks of purgatory.

Two weeks of the kids chasing their tales in confusion saying-
“Where’s the beef?”

Reminisce:
Turned Into A Pumpkin
Leftovers
Simply Delightful