So, I'm in the grocery store the other day, trying to decide on what cut of steak I should buy to grill up for Ringo's farewell to bachelorhood. I know a little about steaks and such, but I've always wondered a little which was more tender, a porterhouse or a t-bone. (Not that I can afford the needed amount of either cut for the party... but if that penny I planted in the back yard sprouts into a money tree in the next few weeks we can talk...)
So I ask the butcher out of curiosity. He's a fairly dumpy looking little man who looks like he would smell like an anchiovy pizza, with two of the reddest cheeks I have ever seen framing his cynical smile.
"Well, they're good cuts of meat, sir. The porterhouse just has more of the filet."
"But are they tender?"
"They're both tender as a woman's heart."
"So I should probably go with sausage then..."
No comments:
Post a Comment