I don’t like meatloaf.
My issues stem from my childhood. I came of age during the school hot-lunch era that operated on the premise of quantity over quality. It was a decade of fillers. Cooks hid chunks of bread in the mac-and-cheese and stuffed gigantic marshmallows anywhere they’d fit. Friday’s meatloaf was last week’s reconstituted leftovers.
At home, my parents insisted on off-brand cola and generic cereals—the kind sold in bags the size of pillowcases instead of colorful boxes with cartoon characters and a maze on the back. When Dad went on strike, Mom took a lesson in conservation from the lunch ladies, regularly serving up Spam—the queen of all composites—and her close cousin, meatloaf. Consequently, my palate is still uneasy when it comes to conglomerates.
My husband, however, has a healthy relationship with meatloaf. Hailing from a more financially secure past than I, he finds deep comfort in particlemeat glazed with tangy ketchup. So when I came across Paula’s recipe for Bacon Cheeseburger Meatloaf, I saw my opportunity to give him some happy while possibly making my peace with geometric meat.
You see, some people dream in black and white; some dream in color. I dream in bacon cheeseburger. And while I prefer purebred to hybrid—I like my coffee black and my hotdogs all beef—I am willing to bet that if I close my eyes and chew, Paula’s Bacon Cheeseburger Meatloaf won’t disappoint. Even a pureed bacon cheeseburger reformed into a brick is better than no burger at all.
With this in mind, I easily (easily, I say!) combine the ingredients, and begin massaging the gooey clump. It’s oddly satisfying to squish the stuff between my fingers. I even take time to sculpt a head with snowman-like features—smiling, of course. I think about running it through my daughter’s Play-Doh Fun Factory, but my fingers numb too quickly.
The recipe doesn’t come together without incident. When I forget to toast the breadcrumbs, I spend 30 minutes picking them from the mixture grain by grain, which is like trying to de-lice an alley cat with chopsticks. I don’t think to spray the loaf pan, so the cheese burns to the edges, making extraction nearly impossible. I spoon out what I can salvage in clumps, reducing the four-serving dish to a two-person hors d’oeuvre.
I reluctantly take a bite (my entire portion) and discover that it’s not bad, and would probably be much better had someone else made it. It’s at this moment that I realize that meatloaf is so much more than the trash compactor I had imagined it to be. Back in the day they stuffed it with eggs, crumbs, dust and pebbles, but Paula’s forward thinking has helped this dish evolve. Her meatloaf serves as a catchall for all things good in this world—like bacon cheeseburgers.
Paula, I love watching you and your family. I miss seeing your show, I watched you everyday. My son lives in Charleston S.C. He took me to the Lady & Sons to eat. Oh my goodness! People are always telling me that I look just like the cooking lady Paula Deen. I always tell them that you are my hero. May God Bless You
Mary Ann Tharp in A Summer of Burgers on August 15, 2014 at 10:48 pm
Add a few spoonfuls of parmesan cheese to the flour and cornmeal breading and it kicks the tomatoes up another notch. Bev
in Crispy Fried Green Tomatoes on August 15, 2014 at 10:33 am
I just bought Paula's Peach Salad Dressing and wondered if anyone has a good recipe that they use it in?
Melissa in Taste Testing 101 on August 13, 2014 at 8:36 am
Congrats Bobby. Loved the family picture miss you Paula on TV will be watching online. Jack is getting big. Looks like his mom but Matt aka moose has your face. Your eyes cheeks hair even falls to his face like yours except to the left. Good luck on your next venture. You give us other 60+ yr women strength to move on. Keep up the good work.
Carol Bryant in Love at Last on August 11, 2014 at 6:12 pm