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This was last night. Prime rib (actually Choice, thank you) and stuffing with gravy made from the drippings. I should not have made the gravy. The gall bladder doesn't like fat.
I have enough leftover for Philly cheesesteak sandwiches for a week, except the gall bladder doesn't enjoy cheese and fried onions. Crap.
Rosie, my femme cat, loves to help me dine. She sits beside me and tries to paw at my plate. I feed her little bits and she wants more. The other cats could not care less. Rosie thinks she is special, and she is correct.
Barbecued beef sandwiches? Beef Stroganoff?