So it all started when I asked the folks what they wanted for dinner. That’s like usually like pulling teeth, but there we were in August: temperature 96 degrees. My Dad immediately said “Swiss Steak.”
In our family, one of my Mom’s frequent Sunday meals was Swiss Steak. We lived only a block from Church and often walked, and I remember coming home to Swiss Steak in the oven. The smell wafted through the old house, greeting us the moment the door was opened.