Meditation on Meatloaf
This weekend I made my first meatloaf, a dish that was banned by my mother in 1984 and has since held the allure of forbidden fruit. Reviled by many, I was convinced that this classic American comfort food could ascend the mundane so I took it upon myself to elevate it from its lowly status. Meatloaf isn’t inherently bad, but almost everyone I’ve spoken to has a bad meatloaf story. People swear up and down that they’ve ingested the worst meatloaf in the world, some unsavory, so-dense-it-has-its-own-gravitational field mass, slathered in a banal red glaze (otherwise known as ketchup) that strikes fear in the hearts of cafeteria diners everywhere. I desperately wanted to buck that trend. Besides, like any recipe, meatloaf is only as good as what you put in it. Working against me was the philosophy that meatloaf recipes, like mitochondrial DNA, are inherited from one’s mother, so the long search began to find a recipe to use as the base for my transcendent meatloaf.
For my basic recipe I decided to trust in the culinary wizardry of the Food Network’s, Alton Brown. The first challenge was finding ground chuck. “Chuck comes from an area of the cow that is more exercised, giving it more robust flavor.” Chuck, however, apparently doesn’t come from my grocery store. With my options of beef limited to medium, lean, or extra lean ground beef, I opted for the lean as quickly as I opted to not to over think the discrepancy. I mean it all comes from the same animal, right? The recipe then called for ground sirloin. Given the limited selection of products at my local groceteria made from ground steer, like a struggling World Series team, I was already 0 and 2. But why be responsible for the demise of one animal, when I could be responsible for the demise of two different animals? So I settled on a pack of fresh, sun-dried tomato pork sausages, which I would remove from the casings. Thankfully, all the other ingredients seemed to fall into place.
As a belated Christmas gift, I had treated myself to an immersion blender; something I could use to pulverize and emulsify the contents of my stockpot into smooth, creamy soups. It’s been a cold winter and homemade soup has become for me proof for the existence of god. My meatloaf recipe, which now seemed to be in a state of perpetual modification, needed a blender with which to purée the croutons into a breadcrumb-like state. This would be the first time I used the chopping attachment for my immersion blender. Power tools are almost guaranteed fun, but razor-sharp blades, rotating at an impossibly high rate of speed, which turn croutons into a fine meal in a matter of seconds, are supremely satisfying. Yes, I’m a simple man. I mixed seasoned pulverized crouton mix, the ground animal, and the vegetables together in a bowl careful not to “squeeze” the meat as the recipe suggested. Now, there are two schools of thought as to how to cook meatloaf. Theory number one suggests that a meatloaf presupposes using a loaf pan. In terms of defined shapeliness, this is a great option, but a loaf pan mitigates the surface area that can be covered by a delicious glaze. It’s also inhibits an oven’s natural ability to create that “crust” of caramelized glaze on the exterior of the meatloaf, considered by many the supreme element of a good meatloaf. I took option number two: I covered a baking sheet with parchment paper and gently shaped my meatloaf into something resembling a deformed football. It’s important to note for those of you unfamiliar with baking, that waxed paper is not a suitable replacement for parchment paper—yes, they are two different things. Were someone to use waxed paper under his or her meatloaf, you would be subject to the laborious and frustrating process of gingerly pulling it from the bottom of the meatloaf like the cellophane wrapper of a stale caramel that had exceeded room temperature through its storage in a trouser pocket. I say this hypothetically, of course.
Despite the substitutions, the modifications, my penchant for freestyle cooking, and the unconfirmed use of wax paper instead of parchment paper, the meatloaf was excellent. My guest and reluctant guinea pig smiled with relief with her first bite exclaiming, “well it certainly isn’t my mother’s meatloaf!” Of course now, with a little confidence bolstering my ego, I’m prepared to additionally modify my recipe, and I’m toying with the idea of a Greek meatloaf (ground lamb, lots of oregano, and chopped kalamata olives) or an Italian meatloaf (ground beef, ground pork, and ground veal, with basil, parsley and an arrabiata sauce). The joy of any simple recipe is that it can be changed to suit the tastes, needs and desires of those who’d like to eat it. There is no excuse for bad meatloaf, especially when a little imagination can elevate it beyond its humble origins. Most importantly, it is not necessary to listen to Meatloaf well making meatloaf (thank god).
Geoffrey’s Basic Meatloaf (modified from “Good Eats Meat Loaf” recipe courtesy of Alton Brown).
140 grams (5 ounces) garlic-flavoured croutons
½ teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 medium sized onion, roughly chopped
2 carrots, peeled and broken
4-5 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons green peppercorns (from a jar)
1-pound ground beef (or other meat)
1-pound fresh sausage (I used a sun-dried tomato sausage)
1 ½ teaspoons kosher salt
1 egg
For the glaze.
½ cup catsup
1 teaspoon ground cumin
Dash (or a couple) Worchestershire sauce
Dash hot pepper sauce
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
Heat oven to 325 degrees F.
In a food processor bowl, combine croutons, black pepper, cayenne pepper, chili powder, and thyme. Pulse until the mixture is of a fine texture. Place this mixture into a large bowl. Combine the onion, carrot, garlic, and red pepper in the food processor bowl. Pulse until the mixture is finely chopped, but not pureed. Combine the vegetable mixture, the ground beef and the ground sausage with the breadcrumb mixture. Season the meat mixture with the kosher salt. Add the egg and the green peppercorns, combine thoroughly, but avoid squeezing the meat. Gently push and turn the meatloaf into the side of the mixing bowl until it takes on a football-esque shape. Onto a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, turn the meatloaf out of the mixing bowl onto the center of the tray. Combine the catsup, cumin, Worcestershire sauce, hot pepper sauce and balsamic vinegar. Brush half the glaze onto the meatloaf after it has been cooking for about 10-minutes. Cook another 30-minutes before additionally applying the remaining glaze.
Cook to an internal temperature of 160 degrees, remove from the oven and let the meatloaf rest for 10-miuntes before slicing. To create a “crust” on the meatloaf, simply paint a couple of tablespoons of reserved glaze onto the meatloaf once it has reached 160 degrees, and place under the broiler for a moment or two.
I’d love to hear your meatloaf stories and exchange recipes.
Happy eating!





4 snappy comebacks:
I would like to state I certainly did not "exclaim" said statement about not being my mother's meatloaf... did I? I don't think I did at least. But yes, it was surprisingly delish.
Also, your picture doesn't look ANYTHING like your meatloaf. It's a misrepresentation... you should have taken a picture of yours because it looked much more appetizing.
-Alicia
I just hope Alicia's mother doesn't read your blog, Geoffrey, otherwise this was a really good post. I like your recipe; I may actually try it sometime soon. Your humor, as always, makes me chuckle.
sounds good G. I was thinking of loafing it up this weekend.
http://cuzoogle.wordpress.com/2007/02/26/meatloaf/
that is the last meatloaf I made.
Meatloaf needs horseradish.
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