"What?" I exclaimed. My eyes widened as I glanced nervously at George. I had managed to remember the names of all the recipes he had mentioned, but this "Bistecca something" dish was completely new to me. He hadn't warned me that his grandmother would be quizzing me so thoroughly about the dishes.
"Umm... steak... oil... salt..." I hesitated, trying to recall any additional ingredients for the mystery dish. My gaze flitted across the dish, desperately searching for any clues.
"And herbs?" His grandmother's question hung in the air, making the atmosphere even more tense. Herbs? How was I supposed to guess the specific herbs just by looking at the dish? I was far from a master chef. And if I ever attempted to join such a competition, they'd probably disqualify me before I even reached the
