Murder Me Meatloaf

Christ, I've been working a lot of hours. These last few weeks have been a confused haze of dreaming, butchering, drinking, and Big Brother episodes. That's right, I watch it. I would challenge you to find something better for me to watch on TV, but that would mean I'd have to divert my attention away from America's homemade "Truman Show" and on to your boring ass. Anyways, I haven't had any time to keep up with my e-mails or phone messages and I feel like I've missed almost all of my summer. Plus, people are getting pissed.

My Angry sous- chef, Tulip, left me a message yesterday that seemed just a little bit less friendly then her usual upbeat and carefree calls. "I know you're there, damn it," she began (I WAS home, but I didn't want to miss the toll-free number to get those interchangeable Tupperware things that you can store anything in). "Listen. You owe me beer and a dinner from those aprons I lent you. Don't think I'm gonna fucking forget. Plus, YOUR stupid fans are sending mail to my shit now, asking for more of YOUR stupid recipes. Some of them think you're DEAD. Me, I can only hope. AND, they're asking how they can get to prove they're a better cook then you. I can't take this shit anymore. Call me when you get up, asshole."

I'm no expert on the female psyche, but it sounded like my sous- Angry chef, Tulip, was a bit annoyed. So during commercials after work the other night, and between sips of Blatz, I got myself showered, cleaned up the apartment, and warmed up the stove.

I called up my sous -Angry chef, Tulip, and told her to get her ass over here.

She told me to fuck off. So I went over to her place instead.

What You Need To Get:

1 lb. ground chuck (It has to be chuck. Don't fuck this up.)

Half a Cup Ketchup (Easily free at your local McDonalds)

1 Egg

1 Cup Oyster Crackers

Quarter Cup Milk (Doesn't matter what kind. OK... NOT chocolate. And if you drink "skim", you're trying too hard.)

Half an onion

Half a green pepper

Salt and pepper

2 Cloves Garlic (Use two Tablespoons of the bottled, minced stuff)

Oregano

Bacon

I was right. Tulip was not very happy with me. After she slammed the door in my face, I let myself in and proceeded to the kitchen while she sat in her Lazyboy watching "So You Think You Can Dance". I was gonna tell her what I thought of that show, but then figured that the criticism coming from the rest of literate America must be hard to ignore.

Anyways, I had a gourmet feast planned.... wait for it...meatloaf. Yes, I know what you're thinking. Perhaps, you may say, the Angry Chef is losing it. Maybe, you're thinking meatloaf sucks. Perhaps you're disappointed that I haven't taken to any French or Italian dishes lately. Here's what I'm thinking: You're all fucking Donkeys (thank you Gordon Ramsey).

Meatloaf is great, storeable, easy to make, and versatile. Its a go- to recipe that everyone will think you put a lot of work in to. Plus, it's hard to fuck up. If you really don't like meatloaf you should log off this site and go back to the latest crossword puzzle at "Highlights: For Kids". You need more training.

I start by basically dumping all the ingredients, except for the bacon, into a big bowl. There's only a little preparation for this. I smash the oyster crackers to bits with a rolling pin, or hammer, or heavy pan (this part is fun, even though I am rudely told to shut up. Not by my sous-Angry chef Tulip, but by one of her neighbors.). I dice the green pepper and onion. And I use my best judgement on how much of the salt, pepper and oregano to use. About a palmful or two of each.

This is where things got weird. My sous- Angry chef Tulip stomped into the kitchen to see what I was doing and suddenly I heard the song "Unchained Melodies" playing. She thrust her hands into the ingredient mix bowl and began mixing everything into a ball as the two tenors sang something incomprehensible about "time goes by... so slowly". She looked like she was thinking about something completely different, I think she did anayway, as she molded the meat into this oddly, phallic shape. It was all really confusing. It was almost like some sort of weird ghost of the Righteous Brothers had entered the room. But after that, me and my sous-Angry chef, Tulip, were cool. So, I blew it off.

Anyways, Tulip formed the mix into a loaf and put it on a rimmed, greased baking sheet. I put four bacon strips over the top of the loaf. Bacon is like pepper, you can't use too much, so feel free to use more if you like.

I set it in the oven at 350 degrees and let it alone for about 45 minutes while we heckled "Dateline" and some old Whoopi Goldberg movie ("Jumpin' Jack Off" or something). Then I spread some extra ketchup over the top of the loaf and let it cook about another 10 minutes. Done. It was good for dinner last night and cold sandwiches today.

Tomorrow, I have to look at my e-mail. My sous- Angry chef Tulip tells me somebody's been making death threats. I'm thinking they'll never have time to catch up with me...