I still have a peck’s worth of peaches on my counter. The temperature shot up today and we’ve got the air conditioner rumbling on low. I sun-tanned this morning. And ate an ice-cream for lunch.
But despite all that, I’m officially in fall mode. There’s no going back after you’ve had a few mid-September rains and some cool weather, and the thought of butternut squash soup and apple pies and long, slow braises all enter your head. I may even be swimming in the bay next weekend if this hot weather keeps up, but I’ll be doing so in fall mode; smores will be required afterward.
To enter fall-mode properly, I made meatloaf. Not a fancy one, like this French loaf I’ve been eyeing, or one with un-meatloafy ingredients, chiles or what-have-you. No, I made an old-fashioned meatloaf, with good ol’ Heinz ketchup, store-bought breadcrumbs, and locally smoked bacon. Because you see, when I say old-fashioned, I mean it. There was a butcher shop involved. And ground beef made from the cattle that graze out back. The vegetables were from the local farmer markets, the eggs from our friends Carla and Harry; only the ketchup and breadcrumbs were, well, nationally produced (is that what we call things that aren’t local?).
Obviously not everyone can buy all local ingredients to make a meatloaf, but getting good meat (preferably from a butcher) will certainly make your meatloaf taste better. A few things to look for: you want meat that is not ground to bits but looks like thick, loopy strings of meat. You want to see bits of white fat throughout. If possible, try to buy it from a butcher (you can try to find a local butcher here) so you see the meat in the butcher’s case instead of having to buy it pre-wrapped. The color should either be purple or bright red. If it’s bright red outside but gray inside, that means that it’s not as fresh as can be, but okay in a pinch. If it looks gray and dull all over, don’t buy it—it’s about to spoil. If you can’t find good ground meat, buy chuck and ask the butcher to grind it up for you, or bring it home to do yourself.
When it comes to topping, I’m a line-of-ketchup-down-the-middle type of gal, but we had some perfectly smoked bacon and I guarantee that if you do too, it’s impossible not to use it. I didn’t miss the ketchup at all and I think the bacon kept everything extra juicy. And we had bacon on the side, a serious plus.
On the side went fingerling potatoes, turnips, and carrots, braised in chicken stock, browned butter, and a pinch of cinnamon. And boy, oh boy, it declared fall. Root vegetables will do that. Cinnamon, too.
If you’d like to celebrate the beginning of fall with this meatloaf, I really hope you’ll make the veggies alongside. The carrots speak to the subtle tomato sweetness in the meatloaf. The turnips are both sweet and starchy. And potatoes and meatloaf are eternal partners; one cannot exist without the other. And I’m beginning to believe that fall cannot exist without meatloaf.
