Last Tuesday I made a turkey meatloaf.
It was a basic ol’ meatloaf recipe: 2 eggs, bread crumbs, garlic, a few seasonings. Mix. Bake. Yada yada. And etc.
However, when the time came to consume said meatloaf, Steve was suddenly called away for an emergency pastoral situation, leaving Sarah and I to face the ugly meatloaf on our own.
And it really was ugly. I only had a pound of turkey instead of the 1 1/2 pounds the recipe called for and I should have put in only one egg instead of two. So consequently, the whole thing was kind of over-eggy in general and had a pale, egg-colored appearance in particular. And that lack of color just sorta offended the part of my soul that loves making food lovely.
Since the sudden change of plans meant that we wouldn't be sitting down to a real meal as a family, I decided to go to Plan B. I just sliced off a few pieces of meat and made them into sandwiches for Sarah and me instead of doing an official meal with potatoes, veggies, side dishes, etc. And Sarah and I dined together quite happily on our ugly (but hidden) meatloaf.
However. The next night all three of us were home for dinner and when I opened the fridge to find inspiration for the evening meal, there It was. The Ugly Meatloaf.
It was perched furtively in a corner trying to hide behind a container of yogurt. And may I just say that its appearance had not been at all improved by 24-hours of sitting in a cold box under a blanket of Saran wrap. In fact, if it were even possible, ye olde Ugly Meatloaf was even uglier than the day before. I only wish I had remembered to take a picture of it because it was a meatloaf only a mama could love.
As the Ugly Meatloaf and I stared disinterestedly at each other, I had a small inspiration. I remembered a recipe I had made a couple years ago called Frosted Meatloaf that had turned out to be a fairly attractive dish. And so it occurred to me that the time had come for a Meatloaf Makeover. A Meatloaf Intervention. A Meatloaf Miracle!
I removed my non-lovely meatloaf from the fridge and placed it in the microwave where I warmed it at medium power for about five minutes while whipping up some instant potatoes on the stovetop.
I then frosted it with my potatoes and sprinkled on some paprika. Things were looking up.
I baked the meatloaf for about 15 minutes just to get everything all hot and then added some ketchup and cheese. (It actually looked a bit prettier when the cheese had melted a tad.)
Would this meatloaf win any culinary awards? Never.
But let me tell you that it sure got a much more lively response when it was placed on the table than it would have in its previous nekkid permutation.
Because there’s nothing worse than a previously nekkid meatloaf.
I’m just sayin’.