Primo carefully packs the steak and an ice pack in his suitcase along with a bottle of wine.
"I'll have to check this bag," he says.
He never checks a bag. He always carries his luggage onto the plane and has packing down to a fine art. He hates waiting. He especially hates waiting for luggage.
But you cannot carry an ice pack onto a plane. For Sly and Doris, he checks a bag.
He carries the steak with him for 1,000 miles. He drives it the 60 miles to Sly and Doris' house in his rental car because they won't pick him up.
He thaws the steak, he rubs salt on it, he lets it sit, he covers it with mustard, and he grills it.
Then he sends me this message:
You were right. They weren't steak-worthy. I cooked the steak tonight, and it was as excellent as I expected. My mom didn't like it very much and my dad thought it was only "good" and not wonderful. I shouldn’t have brought it. It was wasted on them.