Don't ask me why I have such weird hangups. I have several of them. Can't explain them, I just know I have them. Maybe we all do, but just so you understand I'll describe a few:
~Cats, I only like my own. There's something weird almost personal when a strange cat sashays around my legs.
~Round earrings. I'm an eighties baby, they were all the rage when I was in high school. In fact I wear very large hoops nearly everyday. But I hate to see round earrings lying flat on earlobes or hanging just underneath. KOMU has a cute little a.m. broadcaster who is attempting to bring back those ugly 80s earrings. She looks ridiculous. Weird, I know.
~People who park in front of the door at any C-store. It is NOT a parking space, nor is the area 10ft in front or behind you when you park there. This is wear my hubby likes to park when he wants to fetch himself a paper or lottery ticket. I've thought seriously about making myself a sign to hide under my seat. In the worst of parking times, I can pull it out and show people: "I TOLD HIM NOT TO PARK HERE!" Again, weird, I know.
~Finally the reason why I'm writing this post: compressed meat. If it's not a hamburger, I do NOT want my meat smashed together. The texture of meat being held together with anything other than itself almost makes me a little nauseous.
No balls in my spaghetti. No croquettes for my salmon. Got the idea? I've just explained all of this...then...I must digress...
There is a compressed meat that must be served in Heaven. Then again, maybe not. It's Italian Meatloaf. It just may be sinful. Very, very sinful.
During the summer of my freshman year of high school I dated a young, fine looking Italian boy who was visiting relatives for the summer. He stayed until it was time to return to school in Kansas City. Fortunately for me he invited me to his big Italian family dinner on Sunday. I sincerely looked forward to the wonderful meal I knew would be served that day. The minute I got out of the truck I could see the hustle and bustle of everyone moving about. They were such an energetic, loud, and fun bunch. All of this was centered around the afternoon meal. I asked Mr. A what was being served. He sweetly replied, "meatloaf". If any of you know me, you know I wear my heart on my sleeve. There is no doubt in my mind my face dropped and my pupils became fixated into laser beams. "MEATLOAF?" was all I could think. Why in the heck would this huge Italian family fix freakin meatloaf? I just knew I would starve until I got home that evening.
We visited with friends and family until it was time to eat. The dreaded meal. I watched as the helping of meatloaf was placed on my sad little plate. My stomach was rolling. I knew my tongue would feel something of unknown origin when that piece of meat hit my taste buds. After avoiding the dreaded lump of protein for quite some time, I had to...one of his aunts was asking me if I liked it. I couldn't be an insult because this boy had too big of a gorgeous smile for me to lose out to meatloaf.
I so bad wanted to pinch my nose, close my eyes and swallow. But I was paranoid that all eyes were on me. I knew it would be bad. I KNEW it would be bad. My fork would cut a piece in half. Then in half again. Then in half again. Finally...it was time...I had to make the approach from the sad little plate to my tongue. My stomach was ready to explode or implode, I was not sure at this point. My taste buds were trembling in terror. I could feel their goose bumps. But I did it. That one teeny, tiny little taste grabbed the attention of every single taste bud in my mouth. The taste bud angels rejoiced...they sang for more. This Italian dinner was worth it after all.
That was 1984. It was the only time I had a tummy friendly meatloaf until this past Sunday. One of Mr. A's aunts created a cookbook a few years ago. I received it for Christmas and found that yummy meatloaf recipe. Mom couldn't believe I wanted to make her and hubby a meatloaf for supper. My family really liked it and it will be added to my favorite recipe collection for keeps!!
If there is any interest I may post this recipe later this weekend.