T-bone

One of those days...today was one where nothing much encouraging and noteworthy happened until dinner.

Through a near-miracle chain of events, certainly an act of God, we were able to have T-bone steaks on the grill and table tonight.

About dinner time, the neighbor dropped in, locked out of her house. So Clara invited her to have dinner with us.

This neighbor is one who is learning English and joined in conversation a time or two at the table. I think instant mashed potatoes may have been a first for her too.

Then she said 'I can't eat this', in Mongolian. I was surprised because I thought she said she can't eat meat. Then I thought maybe she meant she doesn't eat beef, as most Mongolians eat more mutton than beef. Then she said something like 'it's lacking' in Mongolian. And I was aghast again, thinking she didn't get a big enough piece. But Renee understood the term to mean 'undercooked'.

I guess since the meat on the t-bone was pink, it was not edible to her.

On reflection it makes sense for Mongols to be used to eating brown meat only, because they mostly always boil it. Grilling it to a nice medium rare pink and juicy and to us perfection, to them must seem a bit barbaric. But from our perspective, it pure glory from God.

Thank God for T-bone steak!