note to self

You and Mr. Man have issues with iron.
Eat more red meat. Or legumes.

Wha? That's like comparing apples to oranges. That's too many food groups to consider.

My doc has told me before that my haemoglobin levels are low, and today Mr. Man's doc told him the same thing.  Mr. Man's brain involuntarily performs quick math:

            more iron = (steak + veal) x burger

Any reason is a good reason for Mr. Man to eat more meat, but I'd rather have fish, shrimp or Moroccan turkey burgers.

Whenever we do have steak, it's because Mr. Man makes it. I have steakophobia and can't [read: won't] cook it. An impressive cut of meat requires an equally impressive cook. If steak is supposed to come out a perfect shade of medium rare pink, juicy and melting in your mouth, it isn't going to happen under my direction. The meat won't submit to me. It senses my reluctance. It knows.

It's psychological, yes. The meat is winning, yes. That's okay. Mr. Man can continue to be the steak whisperer at our house. I will just work on building a better chili pot.