Meatloaf Blues

Fifth grade. Cafeteria. Lunch time. My bagged lunch, consisting of a homemade sandwich sits in front of me. I unpack my ungainly sandwich and attempt to eat it. Several students nearby watch me struggling and start snickering. Why? Because my sandwich isn't one of their pristine and thin white-bread peanut-butter and jelly creations cut into four equal squares or two right angles. My sandwich is a big ol' hunk of cold, leftover meatloaf jammed between two slices of Wonder Bread. A little greasy from sitting all day, the bread is mush and the meat is too thick from which to take a nice dainty nibble.

One bite down and there is still sniggling down the table. Embarrassed, I put the sandwich back in the bag, and sit. When the bell rings, I get up with all the other students and file out of the cafeteria, making sure to jam the bag in the trash as hard as I can on the way out.

You can bet, from that time on, I never ate another meatloaf sandwich in my life. That is, until today.

For lunch, I am going to have a cold turkey meatloaf sandwich, sliced thinly and served on a good whole wheat bread. A little lettuce, tomato, onion to complement the flavors in the meat should round out the sandwich very well.

I had forgotten about my earlier meatloaf saga until I made this meatloaf two nights ago. Food, especially this type of food, has a way of bringing up memories from the past. I hadn't made or had a meatloaf since before my mother died and that was 30 years ago.

For me, meatloaf always meant beef and since I don't eat beef, I felt my options were limited. Having just started cooking again in the house, new recipes are being checked out more closely. This one was in our local newspaper; it was a turkey walnut meatloaf with salsa on top instead of the requisite catsup. Just that was an interesting draw, so I said "Why not?"

Got my son involved in the process, too, though, for some reason, he didn't like squishing all the ingredients together as much as I did when I was a kid. My mom always added a few eggs for more flavor. Even though the recipe did not call for eggs, I added them anyway. Adds to the squishability!

Putting his hands into the meat, egg, carrot, breadcrumb, walnut mix was not an enjoyable experience for Elliott, so I took over and was immediately transported back in time to my family kitchen. I could smell my mom's coffee as it cooled on the counter. I saw the linoleum flooring, the old kitchen table and chairs, the ruffled curtains at the window. Coming back to present, I gave the mixture one last squish with my hands and scooped the meat out into a baking dish.

Into the oven and after about 20 minutes, a lovely aroma filled my kitchen. It felt good and homey and peaceful all at the same time. I knew this was going to be a good meal with the family.

And in a few minutes, I will be exorcising those nasty girls from fifth grade. I will also be honoring my own mother for all her hard work in feeding her family by eating all of my turkey meatloaf sandwich, licking my fingers, and not throwing a bit of it away.