Wednesday, January 26, 2011

A profoundly unprofound post

This will be my last blog post of the week about food. I promise.

"How did you like your meatloaf?" someone in the family asked me as we wrapped up dinner out last night.

"Not too great," said I. "It was ... too ... creamy."

That was the best word I could think of. And pondering this incredibly unimportant detail later, I remembered a comment my Sweetie made to me a few weeks ago. She told me:

"You like your foods to have texture."

That is probably why I prefer big, sharp-edged Doritos to flimsy little Lay's potato discs. Why I like rice pudding, which most people hate. Why crispy fried chicken will always tempt me over the broiled kind. Why I would sell my soul for hash browns but not mashed potatoes.

My Beloved knows me so well. I had to step out while the family was ordering but She knew exactly what to tell the server: I wanted meatloaf. I am a passionate fan of this blue-collar, much-maligned food item. Just not, I realize, of the version they served at Restaurant XYZ.

Too creamy.

Another soul might sing the praises of meatloaf that sort of melts upon your tongue. My meatloaf should have a crispness to its crust, and within ... texture.

In the great, vast universe, this is a detail of less significance than the undulations of a protozoan in a rain puddle. But a blogger can be insignificant now and then, methinks.

(The photo above is from the Food Channel online, a succulent-looking, TEXTURED meatloaf with cheese.


kat said...


Eastcoastdweller said...

Thanks, Kat!

Eastcoastdweller said...

Kat, I feel sorry for that angry little man. Has he never eaten a sausage ... or a hotdog? Some Americans can be so ridiculous. They will happily chew on the leg of a bird or the butt of a cow but turn green at the thought of eating a kidney or a lung. Meat is meat.

Now, sincere vegetarianism is a completely different thing. That I respect. But I loathe people who condemn hunters whilst loading up their grocery cart with beef and chicken. And I pity people who won't try anything beyond what they ate as five year olds.

Guaranteed, if I ever get to Scotland, haggis will be one of the first things on my plate.