I don’t mean to make fun of anyone, but it was kind of funny to think this yesterday when I plated the first Mrs. Sippel’s meatloaf alongside the second Mrs. Sippel’s cooked red cabbage.
I followed the directions, even though I was pretty sure the red cabbage wouldn’t cook well with vinegar in the water. Sue was a little let down by the texture and the flavor. Yeah, my recipe really is better. (I’ll share it one of these days.) But Mrs. Sippel’s wasn’t bad; it was just really plain. And crunchy.
Someday I’ll have to tell you a family story—well, more of a legend—about my Great-grandma Thomas and red cabbage. It speaks of the love she had for beautiful red cabbages, and the love her husband had for her.
. . . Okay, and the meatloaf—well! I was a little let down that it didn’t remind me a whole lot of my mom’s. Partly because I didn’t cook it as long as I remember my mom cooking it; she didn’t want us to get worms, or E. coli, so her meatloaf tended to be a little firmer than mine. I was actually going to leave it in the oven longer, but Sue noticed the sides had pulled away from the loaf pan, and the inside was cooked, so she probably saved me from overcooking it.
And another little detail that occurred to me: the ketchup on top. Mom always used to very carefully pour it out of the glass bottle in little dabs (note that the recipe says “dot with catsup”) . . . and here I am, in 2009, with a handy plastic squeeze bottle of Heinz that doesn’t deliver the ketchup in “dabs” or dots. Oh well.
It tasted really good. I have to admit that I used a little more onion than the recipe called for . . . and I cut up the bacon into little pieces instead of laying big strips down the middle (this way it’s easier to cut slices later on).
Today, we’ll have cold meatloaf sandwiches for a late lunch. It will taste really good with some watermelon and potato chips. Summer is definitely here, folks.
I followed the directions, even though I was pretty sure the red cabbage wouldn’t cook well with vinegar in the water. Sue was a little let down by the texture and the flavor. Yeah, my recipe really is better. (I’ll share it one of these days.) But Mrs. Sippel’s wasn’t bad; it was just really plain. And crunchy.
Someday I’ll have to tell you a family story—well, more of a legend—about my Great-grandma Thomas and red cabbage. It speaks of the love she had for beautiful red cabbages, and the love her husband had for her.
. . . Okay, and the meatloaf—well! I was a little let down that it didn’t remind me a whole lot of my mom’s. Partly because I didn’t cook it as long as I remember my mom cooking it; she didn’t want us to get worms, or E. coli, so her meatloaf tended to be a little firmer than mine. I was actually going to leave it in the oven longer, but Sue noticed the sides had pulled away from the loaf pan, and the inside was cooked, so she probably saved me from overcooking it.
And another little detail that occurred to me: the ketchup on top. Mom always used to very carefully pour it out of the glass bottle in little dabs (note that the recipe says “dot with catsup”) . . . and here I am, in 2009, with a handy plastic squeeze bottle of Heinz that doesn’t deliver the ketchup in “dabs” or dots. Oh well.
It tasted really good. I have to admit that I used a little more onion than the recipe called for . . . and I cut up the bacon into little pieces instead of laying big strips down the middle (this way it’s easier to cut slices later on).
Today, we’ll have cold meatloaf sandwiches for a late lunch. It will taste really good with some watermelon and potato chips. Summer is definitely here, folks.
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