Posted on 02/27/2017 11:38:07 AM PST by Oakleaf
I like mine hot all the way through with texture all the way through, if it’s red in the middle that’s fine so long as it’s hot and not with that odd slippery texture of totally rare meat.
But, I also like them seared on the outside. That’s called Pittsburgh style, many chefs claim to know how to prepare a steak in that style but not too many actually do, in my experience. There’s a definite skill in searing a steak properly while getting the internal temperature where it needs to be to please the customer who wants it medium or at least medium rare.
With a more basic steak, I’m OK with it up to medium or even medium well if I have to, which will have some pink in the middle. If there is none it tends to be dry and not very tender., in my opinion
But, to each his or her own. Not my place to dictate what you do or don’t like. The press believes differently, though, they meant to mock by reporting that.
Heh ... I get (just slightly) miffed when “M” is used for “million.” Kids these days.
Yep, one of mine personal pp’s. M for thousand,MM for million
I have not had those in years but I did the same. Like french fries. My mom use to cut up potatoes in cubes and fry them in real butter. I loved them and put catsup on them. Years later when I made them, I would add a cut up onion. I made some recently and they were so good. I do not cook much since it is just me. I like some brands of frozen meals. God bless.
I have to tell you a little story. When I was a kid, we had many ministers who would come eat with us. My dad and the ministers were busy talking. My mom poured him a glass of milk and he added chocolate to it. It was buttermilk. I do not remember if he even noticed what he was drinking. I just have to laugh when I think about that. Some of my precious memories. Thanks. God bless.
My house I grew up in is gone too. House, corn crib, barn and even the big tree where my dad put our swing. When I saw my missing tree, I wanted to cry. The small pond close to the house where we watched tadpoles grow up was even filled in. It is an ever changing world. I had not lived there since I was 11 years old. We had a huge black walnut tree in the pasture which I would climb. I would get to the top of it and the wind would be blowing me back and forth. It is a miracle I did not fall and break my neck. God bless.
Great story.
We always had the preacher and his wife and at least two deacons and their families for dinner on Sunday after church. My mom got up early, early, caught, killed and cleaned and fried four chickens and made a huge bowl of potato salad. After my dad milked the cows, he would churn a freezer full of VANILLA ice cream. While he was churning it, she would continuously say, “Now Lee, be careful so you don’t get salt in the ice cream” and he would just smile and say “yes dear”, although to my memory he never did. My dad would not allow anything chocolate in the house so everything we had was vanilla/white. Cakes had to have white frosting. Don’t think I ever had anything chocolate until I was at least 12.
Our childhoods were certainly different than now.
You will like this little story. I was just a toddler and learning to put words together. We had chickens which were supposed to stay in their house or yard. They would get out every now and then. It was my job to clean up their messes on our front porch. One day, the porch was full of people including ministers. A chicken made a mess on the porch. I went and got a pan with a little soap and water in it. When I got back to the porch, I said, “these chickens make a mess and I have to clean up their .hit.” My parents had no idea where I had heard that but I know they must have been mortified at their toddler. We never, ever said words like that. I did have a much older sister and 2 older brothers. I just have to laugh when I think about that. I feel for the others including the ministers. God bless.
Too funny. Never heard either of my parent’s swear. We also didn’t speak about normal body functions or any body parts. When we had calves that were nursing from a bucket which had a nipple on the lower portion, it was called their dinner bucket. My mom did refer to one of our neighbors as a horse’s patoot. Just lots of stuff that was not for discussion any time or any place.
We did have an eight party phone line that everyone listened into but gossiping among adult women was considered okay. Guess I would refer to it as our version of Facebook in the early 1940’s.
My older sister (RIP)used to tell the story where I decided to try out my new word (shi*) at the dinner table. At Thanksgiving with ALL of the relatives!
I recall the time with our kids (6 or 7 the oldest) and talking about how we don’t swear in our family, etc. My one daughter (5???) says something like “Well Dad - you swear sometimes.” (Yes, on rare occasions I have if I bang my knuckles with a tool or something, but not ever in front of them. Or at least I didn’t think I did.)
“Oh? I don’t think so - what word?”
“Um, the “s” word.” (Hmm - that is not my ‘go-to’ word when I hurt myself.)
“Oh? Hmm - I don’t think so - when?”
“When you yell at the dog.”
“Huh!?”
Then my oldest son pipes up.
“Yeah Dad. You call him ‘stupid’ sometimes.”
“Oh - I guess I do once in awhile. I won’t do that anymore.”
I can see the left wing MSM now: “Trump tries to steal $100 bill from bus boy!”
Why not? He DID throw that poor black family out of their house on Pennsylvania Avenue, after all.
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