Strip steak, baked potato, tossed salad, corn on the cob. That's a pretty well rounded, all-American (aside from the stridently socialist beverages) meal to christen our brand new (used) dining room table. This may seem a tiny milestone hardly worth a blog post all its own, but the event marks, by my reckoning, the first time in eleven years of marriage that my sometimes-pregnant wife and I have sat down to a civilized meal in our own home.
Gone are the milk crates, plywood, cinder blocks, Scrabble board--all the makeshift stuff upon which we have ever dined. In their place are a matching table and chairs. For good measure, we busted out place mats, napkins and even the cutlery that is not plastic sporks and used chopsticks of Chinese takeout.
After a few photos, we tucked in. We both found that eating on a clean, flat surface really enhanced the meal.
Here's a piece of juicy rare perfection. And the steak looks pretty good too!
As a major bonus, I came home today to find that Spronk, of leftovers fame, had deposited a few slices of homemade blueberry pie on my desk. Here's a picture of me about to devour my all-time favorite dessert with coffee. See that frenzied gleam in my eye? That's 100% not fake.
I was nervous though. All blueberry pies share the misfortune of having to stand next to my grandmother's, rest her soul. She made the best pie of all time, almost always eaten at her dining room table with matching chairs.
How did the pie rate? 4.0 McBones. The dessert was unimpeachable, but I did not see white light while eating it. Keep trying, Spronk! Keep trying.