Brandon and I spent some time catching up on the phone tonight. Combining our conversation, this comic and a dinner of cheese brats done on the grill, I sat for a moment reverently cherishing a lost memory.
We travel back to a time when worries for food, mortgage, wife, child, dog or work were naught. It was one of the first times I had been left home in Mercer to my own devices. Of course, Brandon was always caught up in those devices.
We purchased two juicy steaks, made some rice and spent some time cooking the beef to perfection. Soy sauce, pepper and garlic combined to make the perfect minute marinade. That may have been the first time we realized that we were somewhat self sufficient and could cook food that was palatable (no more Mister P's). That summer eve's dinner is exactly what memories are made of.
And now, every time I open my grill, I chase the memory of that first meal. Good friends, good food and the lack of worries or concerns. The way any meal should be served.
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