A typical Sunday dinner at casa de Pareso —assorted barbecued meats, well-prepared vegetables, bread loaded with butter (my mom has to keep her cholesterol over 350 or else she dies. Her heart is like the bus in Speed). High-quality food in copious amounts is the standard. But when we have guests? Call Iron Chef, because there’ll be a kitchen battle unlike any you’ve ever seen, and with a record of 4,521-0, Mama Patty has earned her nickname “Julius Caesar Salad.”
Case in point —I had a very special person over for Sunday dinner this past weekend, and the menu consisted of steak, shrimp scampi with yellow rice, baby carrots, fresh-cut organic string beans, olive oil-soaked garlic bread and salad. Everything was fantastic, except for the steaks. Not mom’s fault though—the meat was garbage and I overcooked it slightly on the grill. Normally, grounds for disaster. But this morning she made me steak and eggs, partially as penance for my slip-up and partially because she loves me (this is a woman who force-fed me lima beans when I was a child, so more the former than the latter). And was it good? No. It was glorious.
So here are some pictures of state-shaped steaks. Try saying that five times fast, preferably in a room filled with people who have lisps. That way you’ll look like an idiot and make them feel better about themselves. S-s-s-s-super!
