I could be a vegetarian if only for the fact that I'd never have to cook meat again. I am not good at cooking meat. And my well-meaning, advice-giving people do not help.
"Cook it till it's done."
"Cook it till it's squishy but not too squishy."
"Cook it till juice runs out but not too much."
"I don't know- you can just tell."
No! I cannot! I was not blessed with this sixth sense you possess that tells you when meat is medium-rare. And the worst part about it is that you can't cut it open to check otherwise it doesn't matter if it's done because it will be as dry as a my callused heel.
I realize that I'm overreacting but after the 3rd time of putting Justin's filet mignon back on the grill, he finally looked at me and said, "Oh yeah, that's perfect." To which I replied, "It looks exactly the same as it did last time." I can't tell if he was just humoring me or if I honestly can't tell the difference in doneness. I may never know.
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