Well, two actually. One for me, and one for the recovering offspring, Peter. They were yummy! Even with the vegan Worcestershire sauce.
No, I didn’t make one for my very loving and trustworthy and hungry husband (Ruben is snickering now because he knows the joke here). Why not? Is he not worth a few dollars at the checkout counter, and a few minutes before the stove? Surely he is. That and much more. I didn’t make him a steak because…
… he’s been a vegetarian since 1962.
It keeps him young. Seriously.
Okay, I’ll go away now.