wicked meat loaf

basically from the feb/mar 09 cooks country mag which is awesome, i had to make a few changes

small onion, chopped wicked fine
two cloves garlic chopped wicked fine
2/3 cup of those new half town cracker half pretzel
1/3 cup milk
pound ground beef
pound ground pork
2 large eggs and one egg yolk
2 teaspoons mustard
2 teaspoons worcestershire
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
buttload of finely chopped parsley
salt & pepper


cook onions until almost carmelized over medium heat, about 5 to 10 minutes, you must hover over to make sure they dont burn. then toss garlic in and stir till you smell garlic. then take onions & garlic out of pan into a bowl.

crush crackerpretzel until really fine, mix with milk, beef, pork, eggs, mustard worcestershire, thyme, parsley, and as much salt & pepper as you think a normal person could stand.

now mash that shit up good. in the recipe they took some of the above ingredients and whizzed them in a food processor. if you are into the processor, then have at it, but i hate cleaning the thing. but the recipe pointed out the reason most meatloafs fall apart is because the meat is in too large chunks. i have to say they were quite right. when i did this, i mashed the christ out of the mixture and the texture was unreal like i never made before.

ok, now, dont use a meatloaf pan. form the loaf on a cookie sheet lined with foil, make sure the sheet has edges to catch the fat. put the sheet on the top rack in the oven and broil on high until the top is browned and i mean browned good. should be enough time to

quickly make a glaze:

1 cup ketchup
1/4 packed brown sugar, how come you look so good!
2 1/2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon hotsauce

whisk that shit up over medium heat until sugar dissolves and the stuff is a little thick.

keep track of your loaf. once browned, slide out and paint it with the glaze all over and back on top rack and brown up that glaze for about two minutes.

then, move sheet down to middle rack and paint your loaf with remaining glaze. bake at 350 until it hits 160 on your handy themometer, about 40 to 45 minutes. then pull your meat out and let it rest for at least 20 minutes.

people will freak.

paula creamer

if ever there was a reason to watch the lpga, it is paula creamer. along with many of the new faces in womens golf, paula has brought something that has been missing...a feminine touch, pink, or maybe it is basically a golfer you would drill. in any event, she is smoking hot.




the other thing is her persona. she is not stuffy, or bitchy like that webb freak from down under. she takes everything in stride, always smiling and talking with the gallery.

she can golf to boot!!! she is not the only golfer making watching the lpga easier to watch, but i think she is one of the biggest reasons.

obamarama

for those who dont like it, you can pound it.

ghetto defendant

sing it with me: da da da da duh, da da da da duh

Do the worm on the Accropolis
Slamdance the Cosmopolis
Enlighten the populace
Hungry darkness of living
Who will thirst in the pit?----Hooked in metropolis
She spent a lifetime deciding
How to run from it----addicts of metropolis
Once fate had a witness And the years seemed like friends
girlfriendsHer babies can dream
But dreams begin like the end----shot into eternity
Methadone Kitty----Iron serenity----
Ghetto defendant----It is heroin pity
Not tear gas nor baton charge
That stops you taking the city----strung out committee
Walled out of the city Clubbed down from uptown
Sprayed pest from the nest Run out to Barrio Town
the guards are itchy Forced to watch at the feast
Then sweep up the night Flipped pieces of coin
broken bottles Exchanged for birthright
grafted in a jiffy----Strung out committee----
Sitting pretty----Graphed in a jiffy
No pity, pretty The ghetto prince of gutter poets
Was bounced out of the room
Jean Arthur Rimbaud By the bodyguards of greed
For disturbing the tomb
1873 His words like flamethrowers Paris commune
Burnt the ghettos in their chests
His face was painted whiter And he was laid to rest
died in Marseille
Buried in Charlevill
Shut up Soap floods oil in water All churn in the wake
On the great ship of progress The crew can't find the brake
Klaxons are blaring The admiral snores command
Submarines boil in oceans
While the armies fight with suns

-The Clash & Allen Ginsberg

listen to it here