Food Fight

Dear Reader, this may be news to you, but The Lady is getting old. Not too terribly old, yet today she is one year older than the day before. To celebrate her birthday, the Significant Other took her to a restaurant neither one had tried before -The Lady was secretly impressed that her fella had picked a place she had wanted to try but hadn't had the wherewithal to visit. The food was South American in scope and The Lady decided to have a spaghetti -her favourite birthday food- with shrimp and crab smothered in some sort of chevre sauce. Potential for mess, she thought, but it looked too good to pass up. The S.O. picked a slab of meat -Purses such as myself aren't familiar with cuts of beef, although this one appeared to be of an Argentinian variety. Because it liked soccer? No, I kid. The meals arrived with the meat presented in a most unusual fashion, on a skillet on a big cutting board. Potatoes and vegetables rounded out the dish with a small container of a chunky tomato salsa to top the meat. As the S.O. repositioned his massive wooden board, the container of salsa slipped off the plate, did a double flip -from where I was sitting- splattering his crisp blue shirt and landing on the floor in a massive mess. The Lady looked at him. The S.O. looked at her. She paused and then said "We'll laugh about this later." A glass of soda and a soiled serviette later, the shirt was presentable, the meat was consumed and The Lady was pleased at how calm and collected the S.O. was after his salsa bath.