Even in tough times, food is not something I scrimp on.
I feel not the least bit of guilt buying petite filets once or twice a month. The largest supermarket in my town is undergoing a renovation, and adding new and better products. I've been able to find choice cuts of meat more often.
For the second time this month, we've had steak rubbed with cracked pepper.
"Try rubbing it with Scotch," my single-malt loving husband suggested. He's fond of Lagavulin, a peaty, smoky libation our friend R., a bon vivant and raconteur of the first order, introduced us to a decade ago.
And so I did, allowing the meat to marinate in the Scotch for an hour or so. Then I massaged in a commercial cracked pepper rub and broiled the meat on a bed of herbs, turning over frequently.
I served this very tender meat on a bed of oven roasted vegetables: Potatoes, onions, carrots, red pepper and Brussels sprouts.
Everything melted in our mouths. The buttery syrah we drank was a fine choice.
You can scrimp all you want in tough times. But you must continue to pump money into local businesses. And you must eat.