Last week, Jason splurged on mail-order cheesesteaks from Pat's. He wouldn't tell me how much they cost, told me to stop asking, and mumbled something-something about the "priceless" experience of giving our children their first authentic taste of Philly during a lockdown.
(Or in the local language: This is a Homeschooling, Whiz Witout.)
We ate cheesesteaks for dinner two nights in a row, and the kids begged us to order them again, immediately.
I, the killer of joy and fun, told them no. These were a fun treat, but too expensive to be a regular thing. When we can, though, we'll take a trip to Philly and go to the actual restaurant! Maybe do a taste test with Geno's and Jim's! Wow, remember when we could just...do things like that? But never...did? Gah. Anybody not gonna finish their cheesesteak? Can I haz it?
Jason, who is basically surviving this experience one ambitious Food Experiment Project to the next, was all MY CHILDREN DEMAND CHEESESTEAKS. BY GRABTHAR'S HAMMER, I SHALL DELIVER CHEESESTEAKS.
He worked all week on perfecting the rolls and tracking down ribeye and Cheez Whiz. The ribeye was easier (a local butcher offers delivery), but apparently Cheez Whiz is a super hot commodity in These Trying Times, which gurl. I feel you. Sometimes you just gotta put some Cheez Whiz on all the things.
Eventually, the planets aligned and cheesesteaks were made.
And lo, they were very, very Good.
(Oh, so the MEAT SLICER. Ages and ages ago, Jason was invited to a friend's party where everyone smoked their own bacon. Which sounds...dirty now that I type it but no, they literally all showed up with raw slabs of pork belly and made bacon. That's it. That's the party. ANYWAY. Jason came home with this massive hunk of bacon and couldn't find any deli or butcher willing to slice it for him. So he...bought an entire freaking meat slicer. He used it exactly that one (1) time to slice what ended up being the World's Most Expensive Bacon, and I've been telling him to sell it ever since, because again: Me. Killer of joy and fun and very large useless appliances taking up shelf space.)
(He did not sell it. He was very, very smug about that fact this week. I bet he'll be less smug at his next cholesterol check, though!)
(I love you, baby. Now please eat a vegetable.)
And finally, this.
Also all very, very Good. I hope y'all are too.