Look what appeared on my doorstep today!

It’s my order of lobster tails and top sirloin steaks that I’m going to prepare for my special Valentine!

I decided to mix it up a little and go for the sirloin. Gotta keep him guessing.

Here’s what it looked like when I opened it up. . .

That dry ice rocks! Everything was still really cold so I put the two boxes of meat directly in the freezer.

I like the reusable styrofoam cooler, too. It’ll come in handy the next time I brine a turkey.

I am excited to make this meal for Valentine’s Day next week. The only problem will be the waiting!

My neighborhood is filled with very colorful, friendly people. But my favorite has to be our next-door neighbor Eddie.

Eddie grew up in the Bronx in an Italian-American family. His father ran a butcher shop. And his mom was/is an amazing cook. So you know he grew up on great food made with incredible family recipes.

Whenever we get together with Eddie and his family we always end up talking about food. Eddie’s the cook in his house and he’s always making something really yummy.

Lately, he’s been calling us to meet him out by the back fence we share. It reminds me of the neighbor on the TV show “Home Improvement.” You never saw the neighbor’s face on that show — only his eyes. Eddie then hands over a steaming Pyrex dish of something delectable and we go inside and devour it.

Where the “drop-offs” occur 

A couple of weeks ago our treat was his homemade spaghetti with meat sauce made with sausage and tender ground beef.

We acted like animals at the zoo at feeding time. We had to hold ourselves back from licking the dish.

Then yesterday, right at dinnertime, he filled that dish again with rigatoni in a creamy vodka sauce. It was like Christmas had come early.

My next mission? Getting him to make Steak Pizzaiola.

Check out the Steak Recipes tab to the right here. There’s a yummy recipe for Steak Pizzaiola there.

I’m interested to see what Eddie’s will taste like. That fence is looking lonely. . .

Every year, my father, my brother and my husband go to Las Vegas for Super Bowl festivities. And this year was no different.

Meanwhile, the ladies take full advantage of the weekend, doing things together that our guys do not enjoy.

My father has a “thing” against garlic. We don’t know why. We don’t understand it. We just accept it.

So, when the cats are away, the mice will play. . .

We had a “Garlic Fest.”

Mushrooms stuffed with spinach, onions and garlic. Chicken parmesan made with boneless chicken breasts and bread crumbs sauteed in roasted garlic olive oil and a rich tomato sauce swimming in garlic.

And, of course, garlic bread.

The house smelled heavenly. And still does, I might add.

Garlic Fest had to be held at my house so that my father will not see or smell a trace of it. We think he might be a vampire, but we’re not sure.

The Giants won the Super Bowl — an incredible feat. But I’m still not sure it was as big a victory as pulling off Garlic Fest.

Why didn’t I grill some garlicky steaks, you may ask?

‘Cause my husband would kill me. He would feel so betrayed if I made a great steak meal without him.

Oh, the sacrifices I make . . .