The Proper Way to Eat Steak

...is with toast.

It was an unspoken, unwritten rule when I was growing up that toast must be served with steak. (Or maybe I just thought that, but it was a good rule anyway.) It's my rule, now, and I'm very happy to share it with you.

If you slightly lift a chunk of steak that has been correctly cooked or grilled, you'll find a warm puddle of the most incredible juice you can imagine under it. To my taste, it should be dark and slightly greasy; if it's bright red, the steak is too rare (read: raw) and if it's NOT there, good luck to you because the steak will be dry. As you cut and eat your steak, the puddle should grow a bit larger from the juices released from the center.

Let it grow.
Don't let your potato or salad slop over into the puddle...it'll waste precious drops and you'll have regrets.
Trust me.

When the meat and salad and potato have all been consumed, you should have a lovely puddle of steak juice left on your plate. I personally don't use steak sauce, but if you do, it will not have spoiled the experience. (I've been blessed to grow up and then live where the best tasting beef in the world is raised. I like to taste the beef. That's why I don't mess around with steak sauce.)

Now is the time to take half a slice of buttered toast and soak it in the still warm steak juice. Don't get in a hurry, let it really absorb the goody. (If you've been lucky enough to have more juice than one half-slice will handle, the other half can do clean up.)
My favorite sopping toast is white Texas toast. I don't know why, but it's the perfect carrier for all the flavors. We now healthily make whole grain toast and it's okay, but all those crunchy seeds and grains sort of get in the way of the pure experience.

Pick the now saturated toast up and eat the best part of your steak dinner.
Really.
It'll be rich and beefy, soft and crunchy at the same time. Salty enough to make you crave more. Your fingers will smell like steak and toast, and you'll have to stop yourself from licking them happily. The next minute you may find yourself looking at your dining partner's plate, calculating whether or not they know the proper way to eat steak and if not, how completely inappropriate it would be to sop up their juice, too.
You won't even consider dessert.
You won't HAVE to!
Steak juice and buttered toast is the most perfect way to end the meal.

Happy Hunting

 Hiding Easter eggs in Cohagen is tricky. Prairie grass...if there IS any....is short and sparse. There are no bushes, shrubs, trees, or big rocks to tuck the treasures in, either.  This causes the eggs to look as though they were broadcast in a big general scatter...

Granted, these were hidden for the little-littles, but still...

 Three on an ant hill. 

Here they come!

The littles were released first, and they took no time at all in scooping up plastic eggs.

The big kids were given the option to help hide eggs this year, and help the little-littles find some. This was a great plan and they all had such fun! (Two of the more enthusiastic Easter bunnies, here.)

It looks much colder than it actually was; I think it was 42 degrees and no wind as we were hunting eggs. Barely cold enough to have to wear a coat, but they humored the adults anyway.

  Do they come any cuter than this?!?!

I love the Montana prairie stretching out behind these kids...

Big boy bunnies...(the skull and crossbones cap helps the swagger)

These two have been the best of pals for 3 or 4 years! Hannah calls Maggie "Iggie" and they seek each other out at every Cohagen event.

Iggie and Hannie

Okay, THESE two are so dear that I almost can't stand it.

They cheerfully opened some eggs so I could get a picture of the loot. 

Counting eggs to make sure they were within legal limits. (Before the hunt began, they were told they could only....ONLY....gather 23 eggs. Can you imagine?! ONLY 23. My head hurts at the thought of that much candy in a child.

The hat.  That hat is KILLING me. He wore it like that the whole time, and managed to gather up quite a clutch of plastic eggs. (Maybe it kept him from being distracted by other things, I don't know.)

I think we ended up with something like 30 kids, counting infants and preschoolers. Such a good bunch for our little school!

Confessions of a School Party Mom Flunkie

There are a lot of things about parenting that no one tells you at the baby shower. All those sweet little index cards that experienced mothers and well-meaning aunties write out full of helpful parenting hints contain things like "You can't spoil babies; kiss them more than you think is healthy!" and "Always carry a diaper in the glove box of your car. Trust me on this one." are all good and fine, but most of them deal with "baby" or "toddler" situations.  Almost no one (including the good Dr. James Dobson) writes about perplexing issues involving grade school age (5-12) children.

I'm not talking about what to do if they contract chicken pox or how to handle "The Talk".  There ARE books about that. What really kills some of us are things like school parties and sports events.

Now, I'm certain there are Very Organized and Creative Mothers who look forward to such things. It gives them an opportunity to showcase their talents. They're the ones who actually have real Easter baskets for their kids to put the plastic eggs in, instead of plastic grocery bags hastily borrowed from the teacher. Their party treats bring to mind a Martha Stewart magazine cover, with olives minutely sliced into spider legs on top of perfectly peeled deviled eggs. They show up at basketball games with personalized, superbly FAN-tastic ensembles and pull out little handlettered banners with all their kids' teammates names and numbers on there in gold.

If this is you, bless your heart, you'd probably better just stop reading the Chronicles here and go amuse yourself on the Pinterest website.



I THOUGHT I could be one of those mothers. (In retrospect, I have no idea why because nothing in my past would suggest or even hint at this sort of tendency...)

And I probably could try a little harder.

It would help if I could ever nail down the date and times of events.
I DO try!
I read the school emails and newsletters and Facebook posts with my planner open, pen in hand, writing down everything important as soon as I encounter it. But I always miss the hidden clues that the other mothers glean from the same documents....things like, "And all the kids will wear pajamas that day" or "Please send one ingredient for Earth Day tacos."  I end up writing down the right date/wrong time, or vice-versa.  Or they change the date on something and I miss that in the subsequent email.

I honestly have stood in front of the cupboard and thought these things, folks:

"I suppose I can't stuff plastic eggs with Vienna sausages, cocktail onions, or plain old marshmallows..."

"I probably can't take any of those for school treats, either..."

"What is the world record time for Jello set up?"

"Game....I'm responsible for a GAME?!?!?!  Like, Sort the Lucky Charms...that might work."
"But not for Halloween."
"Dang."


I'm telling you.
It's BRUTAL.

The older the kids get the less pressure there is on the school front, thank goodness, but the sports mom thing kicks in then. They have practices at specific times in specific places and need important things like real honest-to-goodness basketball shoes. It turns out, most sports also require sports physicals from genuine doctors, not just notes from the parent saying "She's up to date on her shots and hasn't had anything contagious for a couple weeks now."

At games, the parents wear team colors and have cash for concessions.
SERIOUSLY!
They don't just show up showered, with their last check in their pocket (because they forgot to order new ones two weeks ago).  And they show up at the right gymnasium or field. They show up on the appointed day to take their turn selling concessions. In team colors. WITH CASH.
Apparently, this is no biggie for most people of the world...


Today is the school Easter egg hunt.
We miraculously had both plastic eggs and candy, so my cherubs boarded the bus somewhat prepared. But now I have to come up with treats of some sort, and it's not looking promising.

Frozen corn...
Two not-too-brown bananas...
Coffee beans...

*sigh*