My husband told me that he’s sick of eating cheap boring food. So, I busted out the Joy of Cooking and started, upon his request, making every single recipe in the chicken section. It’s been a week now, and dinners have been quite nice. But then he tells me that I should make a meatloaf. Meatloaf? Seriously? Who the heck asks for meatloaf. Meatloaf is what you make when there’s no money at the end of the month and you have to do something with the stale bread and that half a pound of dumpster dived expired ground chuck. Meatloaf is something you stick your tongue out at and say, “ew meatloaf again” What am I supposed to serve with meatloaf? Brussel sprouts and jellied herring? It seems a fitting combination.
Thank God there’s a recipe for a decent meatloaf in the Joy of Cooking. I smile, put on the polka dot apron and pretend to be thrilled. I do what I’m told like a good 1950s housewife. It sounds sick, but really and truly, I have to do this to butter him up. I’m secretly planning on painting the kitchen floor red and I’m not sure how he’s going to take it. Oh sure I told him about it, but I don’t think he was paying attention.