Ignore the salmon.

So . . .  I told THE Wife that we'd have Philly Cheesesteak and  Philly Cheesechicken sandwiches for lunch.  
She told me that she'd rather have that for dinner because she had a taste for a salmon lunch.

Well, since I  wear the pants in this house . . .
I put my foot down and said,



Back to the sammiches . . .
Boneless/skinless thighs . . . sucking smoke on the Egg
(along with the salmon)


Bell & Poblano Peppers and Onion on the Blackstone first,
sliced Chicken Thighs on next.


Thin-sliced Sirloin . . . 
( . . . over a pat of butter.  Shhh.  Don't tell Her about the butter.     )


Chicken and Peppers + Onion resting on the 'cool' side of the Blackstone
while the Steak finishes.


Provolone is melting . . .
on one Cheesesteak and one Cheesechicken.


Peppers/Onions atop the melted Provolone . . .

Finished Sammiches . . .


Plus a little 'makings' left for a little late night snackin'.


BTW . . .
As I was finishing up, THE Wife came out on the deck to relax and read.  Almost immediately she smelled alla the goodness, liked the aroma, and said so.
I asked her if she wanted to have her sandwich for lunch and save the salmon for her dinner.

In tacit acknowledgement of my indisputable reign as Master of the House, she said,



That's my story
and I'm sticking to it.