
I’ve discussed the antidepressant effects of eating pizza on Sunday night — how it soothes the soul before Monday morning comes along and rips it right out of your hairy chest — but my German wife and I don’t always have pizza. Sometimes we get crazy and warm up frozen baguettes. Or throw a rack full of hors d’oeuvres in the oven. We’ve even made some of Dr. Oetker’s pizza burgers. And one time? We didn’t eat anything from the frozen food aisle; we cooked American style steaks. (And no one even burned themselves on the grill.)
It was back in September of 2012, around 9:00pm. Sunday night had us both in the palm of its dirty hand, just like a huge, invisible sex offender. The clatter of the plates was too loud. The slicing of the vegetables took too long. But the sizzle of the steak? Oh, that was perfect. I brought those two slabs of meat to a perfect, medium rare pink (with a hot porno center). I took the steaks off the grill and slid them onto our plates knowing I had successfully represented America and defended its freedom for another day. And that’s when my wife demanded I put the steaks back on the grill because she wasn’t done cutting the green onions and she didn’t want the meat to get cold.
She was being a little pissy that night, you see, so we argued and of course she won. The steaks went right back on the grill. I felt I’d achieved a respectable compromise, however, by keeping the heat on “low.” Five minutes later, I turned around to find the grill had not only been turned back up, but was now set to “hot as the devil’s red nutsack.” The meat was disgracefully overcooked and my wife and I bickered a little more. But later, as we brought our plates into the living room so we could eat while watching a movie, she apologized for her negative attitude:
THE WIFE: “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I pooped around.”
Gotta love her….
LikeLike
Totally! :)
LikeLike
Where did that Bald Eagle line come from in your caption? My German husband uses it whenever I cook a chicken! He learned how to grill in the U.S., though, and he says German butchers just don’t get it – steaks need to be cut THICK! Our local butcher is finally used to us after a year and a half, and whenever I say, “…zum Grillen”, they add a cm or two.
LikeLike
I’m not sure where I heard that bald eagle line, Ami. It’s possible I accidentally thought it up on my own, but that’s highly unlikely.
I like your husband’s style! Please say hello to him from us! I bet his meat tastes delicious! Wait a minute… :)
LikeLike
*chuckle* – Nice expression. I don’t think I ever heard that before… (unless it came from a dog… but that’s a different story, I guess. LOL)
LikeLike
She says stuff like that almost every day. All I have to do is write it all down.
Glad you liked it, Raani!
LikeLike
Hahaha! Around what? She can be a real pooper, can she? Still snorting here!
LikeLike
I don’t know! She just says these things out of nowhere!
How are you doing Sandra?
LikeLike
Great, thanks for asking. On my way to Germany, actually. Will touch down in Hannover Tuesday (very) early morning but rush on to Berlin. Will be thinking of you guys though :)
LikeLike
Oh nice! What are you up to in Berlin?
LikeLike
Oh, just helping my Mom out for a week. And while we are there, run a few errands. Nothing major. We’ll head back to our island paradise on June 2.
LikeLike
That looks really yummy. Cooked just the way I like it.
LikeLike
I have lived here for 5 years and I have given up trying to get a good steak anywhere in this country. Thank god for the Commissary on post. I like my cooking better anyway. Germans just don’t do beef very well. They can do wonderful things with pork, beef not so much. And don’t get me started on Mexican food. 5 years and no es bueno.
LikeLike
I went to the wedding of a cousin of my wife here in Berlin last weekend and at the reception they had US steak. I haven’t been homesick, but this reminded that I hadn’t eaten a good medium rare steak for close to a year. Then again we hardly made steak at home in the US or went out and now hardly go out. They even asked if I wanted seconds. For a split second I was tempted, but we were in a rush to get home to put our little one who was way overtired (church ceremony was during his usual nap time) and past his bedtime.
LikeLike