Last night I made my first-ever meatloaf. It was something I had just sort of assumed, since childhood, that only moms could make and thus I have been timid about approaching it. And good meatloaf is a rare specimen! Moms and Southern restaurants can make them, and only some of them make them really well, and everybody else… whew. Just step back and leave it to the professionals, people. I sure did.
And then Thursday I had to open my big mouth while Oliver was painting the bathroom and announce that we should try pre-planning a menu for the weekend, borrowing an idea I got from Katie at Confessions of a Young Married Couple here. I asked Oliver what he would like for Friday’s dinner and he immediately replied, “Meatloaf. I’ve hardly ever had it and I want to try it again.” Well… how can you argue with that? Especially when the man requesting the meatloaf is painting over the awful baby-poo yellow walls in your guest bathroom? You can’t.
And so I dutifully looked up a recipe for “The Best Meatloaf I’ve Ever Made” and added the ingredients to my grocery list. Can we just agree that two lbs. of ground beef is a lot? We’re not usually much for red meat around here. Oh well.
Last night was the big night. I set everything out and goggled at the mess on my counters. Then I cried while I minced garlic and onion… because of the onion, of course! And then I wanted to look away while I mixed the meat with all of the crumbs and minced stuff and egg and what-not… because it looked gross! But it all came together and, in the end, turned out halfway decent. I think in the future I will tweak the flavoring a tiny bit if I make it again… maybe a dash of oregano or coriander? Something just to punch it up a lil’ bit. But overall, I’d call it a valiant effort and a basic success.
So, add it to my list. I have a small but growing repertoire of cookable dishes including shepherd’s pie, chicken enchiladas, sweet basil barbecue chicken, and, apparently, meatloaf. I may not feed my boyfriend well but at least I know I won’t starve him either. And that’s a good thing… I need him. He hasn’t finished re-mounting the shelves above my washer and dryer yet.
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