This picture shows my grandmother at a fancy restaurant in Vegas. Not sure if this is the restaurant where this story takes place. But she sure does seem happy.
After a few bottles of wine, and no doubt a couple of martoonies, dinner was served. Maggie picked up her steak with her fingers, "what's this," she asks "a brownie?" The dude still cracks up over this story.
Flash foward a couple of years, everyone--my parents, my cousin's parents, our grandmother-- is gathered at my cousin's house. I picked up some hoagies and cheesesteaks for dinner. My cousin provided brownies for dessert. My cousin puts a piece of brownie in front of my grandmother. "What's this?" she asks. My father, under his breath but loud enough for a couple of us to hear, says, "it sure as hell isn't a filet mignon." The dude, my uncle, and I were doubled over in pain trying not to laugh.