B is for Birthday, Beef and Brooligig

This is one of my birthday presents. For those in my life who I love dearly, I so wish you could be there to experience these priceless objet d'art. This - is apology steak. Named so for its aroma of Matt's sincere regret for his wrongdoings, his slips of the tongue, his faux pas. Any mistake or misstep made in our direction, and his payback is a steak dinner. He may have been sorry for the fact that he is singlehandedly responsible for global warming, and if I have to turn the A/C up in the apt, we nail him. I mean, he offers up dinner for our whole family, cooked by him. Repast on Sunday was no exception.

I don't have photos of the lovely wheat-free bread/crushed nut horse derbies, or whatever he called them. We did bring salad, and Brenda always makes potatoes. (She has to contribute somehow; I mean, we can barely tolerate her presence as it is - there has to be peace offering.)
We brought the salad so we didn't come across entirely as the freeloaders that we are. (Kudos to Bingdon's herb dressing, btw. She should post it here.)

Anyway, after the game of modified pinochle, we had ice cream and Brenda's famous cherry-chocolate cake. I think it's the best she's made EVAR. No photos of that either, but it's for the best. You'd have been licking your screen by now if I'd posted them.

No one got any pictures of all of us together, and I blame Matt for that...