So I bought the bread so Tom could make his Steak-Umm sandwiches.
"I can't quite remember how to make them," Tom said, scratching his head.
Then why did he buy Steak-Umms in the first place?
Thankfully Jennifer gave me the link for this site:
It had a video on how to make a Steak Umm sandwich.
Then I asked Tom if he planned on cutting up vegetables.
"What for?" he asked.
"Um. Our sandwich?" I didn't want a plain Steak-Umm sandwich with cheese. No thanks.
"I wasn't planning on it," Tom admitted.
"Could you saute some onions?"
Tom knitted his eyebrows. "Saute?"
I half expected him to go, "Thems fancy words! What's a saute?"
"I'll saute," I said quickly.
Tom got the box of Steak-Umms out.
"They remind me of tongues," I said as Tom stuck two on a saucepan.
"Giant cow tongues," I continued. "Is that how they're supposed to look? They look gross."
"They are not gross," Tom argued. "They are delicious."
"But they're rectangular!"
"Give the Steak Umms a chance!"
(That's Tom's usual expression. It's why people always ask me if he's mad. No. He's not mad. That's just the way he looks.)
"They smell weird," I said.
"They smell delicious," Tom answered.
This is Tom's boring sandwich:
"Ketchup?" I said as Tom squeezed some on. "Ew. I'm putting mayo on mine."
This is my awesome sandwich:
Mayo, mustard, Steak-Umm with swiss cheese, onions and tomatoes.
It was pretty good. It's probably not something I'd want often though.
Anyhow. That's my adventure with Steak Umms.
I never knew steak could look and smell like that.