“Hey boss,” I said, as I pulled out a tray of T-bones, “these look like shit.” They were so old the fat was turning green.
“Marinade ’em. Date ’em for three days.” Brown said.
“Really?”
“What? They’re not bad. You really want to throw away $100 worth of steak?”
“Whatever you say boss.”
You don’t know shit about your food.
Advertisements
