One of the more regular cooking/eating experiences with Vince that I'll always remember occurred numerous times in the mid-1970s. It went something like this: First, we would prime our appetites and get to a state of hunger that was ravenous. Once in this frame of mind, the only antidote seemed to be a large portion of very rare red meat. We would drool over the thought of this as we encountered the roadblock between us and this fantasy: money. So we would wander down to our favorite market, me in my overcoat and Vince on the lookout. Once there, we would inspect the porterhouse, ribeye, and fillet for both quality and size. When the final decision was made, we both knew what had to be done.
The final state of this experience involved an afternoon barbeque of prime steak, interesting conversation, and great satisfaction.
Happy Birthday, buddy!
Steve
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