🎵 Now Playing: “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves

“I’m alright with a slow burn…”
(So is cube steak, if you treat it right.)

Word Raccoon has a new device she LOVES: a solar-powered charger! It’s barely bigger than my phone, and now when I’m writing outdoors, I don’t have to worry about running out of juice for either my phone or my MacBook. It’s already saved my outdoor writing time more than once, and I’ve had it less than a week.

You can plug it in to charge it or charge it in the sun (that takes a while, but hey, poetic patience). Once charged, though, it juices up your devices fast.
And you can plug your device in and still use it.

Highly recommend. Word Raccoon is happy since she does not like to be cooped up indoors!
(Not a sponsored post, just a delighted raccoon with gadgets.)

When I told Word Raccoon we were going to the café to write, she said I’d better feed her well when we got back.
So I pulled a mystery meat pack out of the freezer and tossed it in the fridge before we left, assuming Future Me would know what to do with it. Actually, I thought it might be boneless chicken thighs, which are versatile AF.

Reader… in truth, I had no idea what I had pulled out.

Thankfully, it was cubed steak. Thin, boneless, quick thawing. By the time we got back from the gym (after the writing), it was no longer frozen. Whew!
If you’ve ever played freezer roulette, you know my relief. (If you haven’t, friend, you have to learn to walk on the wild side, at least when it comes to decisions that don’t even matter. It’s a beginning.)
Which brings me to another approximate recipe.

🥩 Accidental Stovetop Salisbury Cube Steak with Yellow Squash

What You’ll Need (Emotionally & Otherwise):

4 Servings
• 4 cube steaks, sliced into bite-sized “it’ll do” strips
• 1 tbsp olive oil (don’t bother measuring, love)
• 1 yellow squash, chopped into half-moons
     Preferably bought small and tender, like it was raised gently in a pumpkin patch and never knew adversity. This is the kind of squash that cooks fast and forgives your past mistakes.
• 1 big ol’ onion, sliced thin (We only had red; it worked.)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced (or a teaspoon of the lazy jar stuff)
• 1 tbsp ketchup (Trust me, it will be ok.)
• 1 tbsp mustard (Dijon if you’re feeling flirty, yellow if you’re not)
• 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce, aka emotional depth or umami.
     Condiment note: eyeballing is fine here. Don’t go digging in the drawer for the elusive tablespoon like it’s a cursed talisman – you won’t find it, friend. This is comfort food, not chemistry class.
• 1½ cups beef broth
     (Or, in my case, water + a saved ramen seasoning packet because Word Raccoon lives in the land of chaotic ingenuity)
• 1 tbsp cornstarch + 2 tbsp cold water
     (FYI, that jar you used for overnight oats? It’s perfect if you want to put the ingredients in it and shake, shake, shake your slurry. Or put it in a wee bowl and stir.)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Something warm to pour it over: like, oh, leftover pasta, or rice. We are making supper, not a special occasion meal. Let’s get you fed!

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What to Do:

1. Steak it up:
Heat oil in a big skillet over medium. Toss in the cube steak, no pounding required. Salt, pepper, and brown it like you mean it (5–7 minutes). Be sure it’s all browned or you won’t be happy with the texture, love. Pull it out and set it aside like a moody subplot.

2. Onion meltdown:
Same pan, toss in onions. Stir and stare dramatically until they’re soft and golden (5–6 minutes).
Add garlic and stir for 1 minute like you’re making decisions. BE CAREFUL OR IT WILL BURN! ASK ME HOW I KNOW!

3. Gravy stage:
Combine the ketchup, mustard, and Worcestershire. Stir with a tiny spoon for maximum fun.

4. Pour in the beef broth (or ramen-packet magic water if you’re me and don’t have any other on hand). Let it simmer gently.
Now make your slurry (cornstarch + cold water), and stir it into the pan. Let the sauce thicken a bit (2–3 minutes). This can happen fast, so pay attention.

5. The return of the steak (and friends):
Add your steak back in.
Toss in the squash. Simmer uncovered 5–7 minutes, or until the squash is tender but still holding it together better than you are.
Taste. Adjust. Throw in thyme if you’re feeling poetic.

6. Serve with something soft and ready:
Ladle over buttery rice or leftover pasta like your supper depends on it.
Do not garnish with parsley because parsley is a waste. No one likes that guy.

Closing Thought from Word Raccoon:

I heard back from another literary journal. A sweet rejection that said one of the poems was “almost.”

Which, honestly? Felt both encouraging and like the story of my life. (LOL, but make it literary style.)

I worry sometimes that Word Raccoon has used up all her poems. That the well’s gone dry. That there’s nothing left but scraps and metaphors stuck to the sides of the pan. That maybe we’re writing the same poem five different ways.

So I made dinner out of what we had on hand. I guess, if you think about it, that’s how Word Raccoon makes poems, too. The pantry’s not empty yet. But maybe it’s time we went shopping.

I have some good news to share that is not about writing, but I am going to wait until tomorrow. This post is too long.
Word Raccoon is biting at my thumb. Stop it, raccoon!
Pardon me while I go fetch some words to feed her.