Meatloaf: 2 Ways — Dale Knows How To Host

Never been seen (by me) photos of Mom her Freshman (left) and Sophomore year at Duke. So dang cute!

Who wouldn’t want to ride for 4 days in the back seat with these pups?! My daughter, that’s who. I guess I can pat myself on the back for establishing good boundaries in her.

The Reed house on Watauga Street in Kingsport, TN. It was built by my Great Grandparents. My Grandpa grew up here and then my Dad and his siblings after him. It was in the family until Grandpa’s death in 2010 when it sold to someone out of the family. I took this photo about a week ago. Glad to see someone’s taking care of it!

Me and my sister on the front porch of the Reed house. Early 70s sometime.

The extended Reed family (pre younger cousins Mariah, Reed, Christine & Wills) in the living room of the Watauga Street house. Christmas 1989.

The Volberg house on Chickasaw Road in Kingsport, Tennessee taken about a week ago. This house was designed by my Grandfather Marshall Volberg. The back had two massive walls of windows looking out into the trees. My grandmother kept it for a while after Granddaddy died until she moved full time to a Fripp Island, SC.

My sister and me playing tennis in front of the Chickasaw Road house. Christmas 1979.

Nonnie and Granddaddy in the den of the Chickasaw Road house. The wood paneling was taken from an old barn. My Dad had a dulcimer made from a spare panel as a high school graduation gift for Mom who he was dating!

One of the walls of windows in the living room of the Chickasaw Road house. Here we are with Chinese Yo-Yos brought from San Francisco by our Uncle Robert (far right).

Christmas party in the den of the Chickasaw Road house with me, Aunt Lib (Granddaddy’s sister), Nonnie, Mom and cousin Lee Howard. 1989.

Volberg Family portrait in front of the cozy hearth on Chickasaw Road. Early 80s sometime? Nonnie and Granddaddy Volberg on the left. Aunt Lib behind me in the plaid. I wanted that sweater that Elisabeth had so badly that I was about ready to commit some crimes! It was red angora with little mirror stars and moons sewed to it.

Us in front of the Fripp Island, SC house that Granddaddy also designed.

Here’s an interior shot of the Fripp Island house designed by Granddaddy. You get a better sense of the inside/outside play with the large windows. Although Dad always brings up the fact that none of the windows actually opened. Granddaddy wanted to LOOK at nature, not FEEL it. They had a kickass AC!

You looked right onto marsh. It was pretty magical. The light changed minute to minute. Being a painter, Nonnie loved it. We sold the house to the author Pat Conroy’s brother when Nonnie died. You can now rent it on VBRO which is super weird but also tempting?

Nonnie in her backyard / happy place. Fripp Island, SC.

The purple childhood bedroom I was trying to move on from (read on and you’ll see). Mallette St. house, Chapel Hill, NC.

So, my blog took a summer vacation. I hadn’t intended for that to happen but if you read my last post you’ll know that we renovated a house in Maine by ourselves this summer. That was exhausting and all consuming but it turned out great. We had to hustle back to Texas in early August so that my daughter could start her senior year of high school this week. She had enough gumption to refuse to ride in the car with our dogs for 4 days, so she (wisely) got herself invited on her friend’s family’s vacation and dodged that bullet. Chris and I weren’t so lucky. And, insult to injury, my 50th birthday fell smack dab in the middle of the return drive.

I always joke about my birthdays getting the shaft. Chris is 3 years older than me so he hits the milestones first and we always celebrate with gusto! By the time my stuff rolls around we tend to be tired and in debt. For example, we were dating when Chris turned 30. He was finishing up law school and could take a little time off. We both had room on our credit cards so we went to Spain to drive around. We hit the major cities and ended up at the new Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao on his big day. Fabulous. For my 30th we were married and probably still paying off Spain, so we went to Laredo. Now, Laredo may have an exotic sound to it but it’s a border town between Texas and Mexico. When we visited it was having some sort of locust infestation. It felt biblical. We walked across the Rio Grande to Nuevo Laredo for dinner (you could do that back then) and Chris suggested that we stop for a drink first. Being (self-proclaimed) savvy travelers we both agreed that we didn’t want to go anywhere “too touristy”. So, Carlos & Charlie’s was definitely off the list. We wandered around until we heard the sound of accordion music coming from an alley. Perfect! A real cantina. We went in, bellied up to the bar, ordered a round and started chatting with this lady sitting nearby. She had a little English, Chris claimed to speak a little Spanish. What could go wrong? After a while I noticed that this lady and I were the only two women in the place. That was a little strange but not alarming. Guys were wandering in and out. The beer was cold and they had bar nuts, I was content. Chris kept trying to talk to the lady. Having no Spanish myself I assumed it was going fine until she started yelling “I’M NOT A PUTA! I’M NOT A PUTA!”. For those of you who, like me, don’t speak Spanish, puta is slang for prostitute. Chris had not intended to imply that this woman was one, but with his limited language skills we found ourselves in a situation we couldn’t get out of. She was getting madder and madder and we were digging ourselves into more and more of a hole. Our confused eyes met and we silently agreed on a strategy… 1….2….3… RUN! We bolted out the door and ran straight to Carlos & Charlie’s for one of their big cheesy tourist drinks. We asked the bartender what the hell was the deal with that bar down the street. What bar? There wasn’t a bar there. Oh that? That’s a brothel. Oh, lawd. We had wandered into a brothel, unknowingly chatted with the madame, ATE THE BAR NUTS, and then accidentally insulted her but implying she was one of the working girls. Happy birthday to me!

For Chris’ 50th we spent a wild couple of days in New Orleans attending our first Jazz Fest. I splurged and got tickets to see the Rolling Stones (who ultimately ended up canceling, but we still had a blast). The weekend was a big time. So, when it came my turn to turn 50 and Chris said to me “we need to be in Arkansas by Sunday”, I have to say I was braced for lameness. What I had forgotten was that the Crystal Bridges Museum is in Arkansas and there are actually fab restaurants and hotels in Bentonville. My 50th birthday ended up being surprisingly awesome. Go, Chris! (And, don’t worry, being a Leo I plan to celebrate all month. I just had a big bash on Friday with costumes, bands, and a surprise performance by a drag queen. Arkansas just got the party started!)

Mom and Dad had been telling me for years to get myself to Crystal Bridges. So, it was definitely on my bucket list. A world class museum in the beautiful Ozarks? What’s not to like?! Now, I’m telling you to get yourself to Crystal Bridges if you have not been. They have a Frank Lloyd Wright house that they brought from Wisconsin piece by piece. When the tour guide asked “who is a fan of Frank Lloyd Wright?” my hand SHOT up! Mom had seen to this. I went to my first Wright house when I was maybe 8. I think it was in Virginia. I loved it. So, after that, Mom bought me little Frank Lloyd Wright house models to build, she gave me books on Usonian architecture, and she saw to it that we spent a full day of a Chicago vacation in the suburb Oak Park, touring Wrights’ multiple houses and the fab Unity Temple. Mom always went next level on things that interested me.

On the way home from Maine this summer we took the Eastern route, the one I used to take to get to and from college. Chris hasn’t really spent much time driving the East Coast so when we got to the Blue Ridge Mountains he was really bowled over by the beauty. It just felt like home to me. We decided to alter our route to include a quick stop in Kingsport, Tennessee, the childhood home of both of my parents and location of every holiday of my youth. My uncle Michael is still there so we swung by for a quick hello and then got back on the road, making sure to stop by the Reed and Volberg family homes on the way out of town. Speaking of Frank Lloyd Wright, the Volberg house was definitely influenced by him. My grandfather designed it and it was his pride and joy: low slung and harmonious with nature with its large picture windows. It’s comforting to see that both houses appear to have attentive new owners. I restrained myself from knocking on the door and telling them about the notes we used to hide under the floor tiles in the basement or the time I threw up ON my Uncle Frank who was inconveniently standing at the toilet I needed to use on Christmas Eve. So many memories.

On the drive I thought back to when Mom turned 50. It seemed so old to me! I had just finished my freshman year of college and was home for the summer. I threw a dinner party for her. I am here to say the 50 is not old! It’s amazing. I’m happier than I was at 30. Or 40 for that matter. I find myself doing Mom-like things now and understanding her better. For example when painting a french door in Maine I got out my daughter’s tiny watercolor brush and patiently painted the trim around each panel of glass. Old me would have slapped on some painters tape and sloshed on a coat letting the color bleed through. New me has an appreciation for a job well done, so I took the time to do it painstakingly right. When I was growing up in the Mallette Street house I desperately wanted a “modern room”. Our house was full of antiques and that look had invaded my bedroom as well. What did I consider modern? Wall to wall carpet and a futon. (Who knew that my dream aesthetic was essentially what every college kid’s first apartment would like like?!) Anyway, Mom let me do it for my 13th birthday. I was dying to get rid of the purple walls of my youth, so I got a bucket of white paint and hastily painted a coat while Mom was teaching piano downstairs. She came up to see my progress and was disappointed that I hadn’t put down any drop cloths. There was paint all over the hardwoods. I didn’t think that would be a problem as I assumed that Mom and Dad would fall IN LOVE with wall to wall carpet and that they would never remove it. The carpet was on order and taking a little while to arrive so Mom had time to really sit with the paint splatters. She made it about 2 days and when I came home from school one day, they were simply not there anymore. Poor Mom had taken a razor blade to the floor and cleaned up my mess, bit by bit. I wouldn’t be so kind about that if it happened but, as it now stands, I probably would clean it up, too.

On Friday I re-piped the frosting on my birthday cake. I had ordered a digital edible image to put on top (did you know about this?! Such bizarre technology!). The image was too big so I had to scrape the border frosting off, cut the image down, place it on the cake, and then put the frosting I had scraped off into a piping bag and put it back on the edges of the cake. I was worried because it was a little crooked in one part. Chris thought I was insane. Mom would have understood.

Turning 50 you get a lot of weird gifts despite you telling people to not get you anything. My friend Susan gave me a slew of Elvis’ related items. (Have you seen the new Baz Lurhmann movie Elvis?! If not go see it now!! I’m still trying to get Dad to go. I understand his hesitancy, those are big shoes to fill, but SHEESH I was entertained!) My fave of the Elvis birthday items? His recipe card for meatloaf. I remember touring Graceland with Chris on one of our first dates (we drove from Houston - it was a LOOOOOOOOONG date). In the kitchen there was an audio recording of Priscilla complaining about having to make meatloaf every night for a month because that’s all Elvis wanted to eat. Mom made a good meatloaf. I actually asked her to bring me one when she visited me one summer at music camp because I felt like I wasn’t getting enough protein. I’m sure I wasn’t. (Do fruit roll ups have protein?) Anyway, Mom arrived at Parents’ Weekend with a tinfoil loaf in hand, my wish was her command.

There are two meatloaf recipes in Mom’s files. She cooked the bacon wrapped one more frequently than the other but I’ll post both. Pro tip: cold meatloaf on white bread with Duke’s mayo makes one hell of a sandwich!

BACON-WRAPPED MEATLOAF WITH BROWN SUGAR KETCHUP GLAZE
Serves 6 to 8

If you like, you can omit the bacon topping from the loaf. In this case, brush on half the glaze before baking and the other half during the last fifteen minutes of baking. If you choose not to special-order the mix of meat below, we recommend the standard meat loaf mix of equal parts beef, pork, and veal, available at most grocery stores.

Brown Sugar Ketchup Glaze

1/2 cup ketchup or chili sauce
4 tablespoons brown sugar
4 teaspoons cider or white vinegar

Meatloaf

2 teaspoons oil
1 medium onion, chopped medium
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
I teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1/4 teaspoon hot red pepper sauce
1/2 cup whole milk or plain yogurt
2 pounds meatloaf mix (50 percent ground chuck, 25 percent ground pork, 25 percent ground veal)
2/3 cup crushed saltine crackers (about 16) or quick oatmeal or 1 1/3 cups fresh bread crumbs
1/3 cup minced fresh parsley leaves
6-8 ounces thin-sliced bacon (8 to 12 slices, depending on loaf shape)

I. For the glaze: Mix all ingredients in small saucepan: set aside.

2. For the meat loaf: Heat oven to 350 degrees. Heat oil in medium skillet. Add onion and garlic; saute until softened, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool while preparing remaining ingredients.

3. Mix eggs with thyme, salt, pepper, mustard, Worcestershire sauce, pepper sauce, and milk or yogurt. Add egg mixture to meat in large bowl along with crackers, parsley, and cooked onion and garlic; mix with fork until evenly blended and meat mixture does not stick to bowl. (If mixture sticks, add additional milk or yogurt, a couple tablespoons at a time until mix no longer sticks.)

4. Turn meat mixture onto work surface. With wet hands, pat mixture into approximately 9-by-5-inch loaf shape. Place on foil-lined (for easy cleanup) shallow baking pan. Brush with half the glaze, then arrange bacon slices, crosswise, over loaf, overlapping slightly and tucking only bacon tip ends under loaf.

5. Bake loaf until bacon is crisp and loaf registers 160 degrees, about I hour. Cool at least 20 minutes. Simmer remaining glaze over medium heat until thickened slightly. Slice meatloaf and serve with extra glaze passed separately.

SMOKED CHEDDAR JALAPENO RANCH MEATLOAF

1/4 cup applewood-smoked bacon lardons (3/4 inch sticks)
1 3/4 pounds ground premium beef sirloin
3/4 pound ground pork
4 large eggs
1/4 cup minced jalapeños
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons salt
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon toasted ground Mexican oregano
3/4 cup cubed smoked cheddar
1 cup diced white onion

Preheat oven to 325°. Partially cook the bacon in an ovenproof skillet over low heat for 5 minutes. Do not let the bacon get hard. Transfer to a large bowl, add all the other ingredients, and mix very well. Put the mixture back into the skillet or into a standard 8-inch loaf pan and bake for 1 hour, or until the meat loaf reaches an internal temperature of 150°.

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