So for the past couple weeks I have been cooking for Husband since he works until 6 now and if I waited til he came home to cook we wouldn't eat dinner til 10 and I'm just not down with that. I'm all about that early bird dining. I've been trying to keep things interesting and have managed so far to avoid the same meal twice. We've had hamburger helper, baked chicken with rice-a-roni, tortellini with ground beef, white people tacos... You know, nothing too adventurous but still yummy all the same. Last night I decided to make a meatloaf, the same meatloaf my mom made when I was growing up. I skipped the onion but the recipe goes something like this (going by memory here):
2 lbs ground beef
2 tsp hot sauce (I feel you can be a bit more liberal here)
1 tsp salt
3 tbsp melted butter
1 cup bread crumbs
6 American cheese slices
You combine all but the cheese in a bowl, put half of it in a bread pan, layer the cheese right there in the middle, and put the rest of the meat combo on top making sure all sides seal in that cheesy goodness. Bake for an hour at 350 and voila! You have my childhood.
We had some leftover mashed potatoes so I did a quick Google on how to do fried mashed potatoes. You pat them into what would essentially be a hamburger patty and lightly coat them in flour, garlic salt and pepper. You're supposed to put them in hot oil until they're light brown on both sides. That shit did not work for me and I made one helluva mess. I ended up taking what I'd done to the mashed potatoes and just cooking them in a nonstick pan on the stove until they were crispy. Turned out real nice, actually. I also boiled baby carrots and put them in mixture of water, a tablespoon of butter and some brown sugar, the result of another Google search for steamed baby carrots. They were good and not super sweet. I think the water diluted it so they weren't candy carrots.
I'm sort of a paranoid mess when it comes to feeding Husband because he's so picky so I told him he would have to be super complimentary at first until I got the hang of this cooking nonsense. I'm lucky he comes home hungry as a hostage and doesn't have much time to really analyze what I'm feeding him. Last night he inhaled the first serving and even went for seconds. That made up for him looking at the meatloaf on the dish as I served it to him and saying "It feels like 1983, babe. Should we talk about the upcoming Olympics?" Ass.