Pioneer Woman’s Meatloaf: Semi-fail.

Good start to a new post…I can’t even find the recipe on PW’s website for this. Maybe I’ll post it later or maybe you’ll have to buy her cookbook…if you still want to after reading this hot mess.

I made PW’s meatloaf. I was stoked. Devin was still recovering from being sick and was not so sure about eating a “real meal”. But I convinced him it would be great. Then what did I go and do? I cooked a dadgum meatloaf, like, medium rare.

Before you topple over laughing…or after because you probably already are, I can explain…ish.

I actually followed the recipe EXACTLY (except I used turkey bacon instead of real bacon because I just cannot do it…but this shouldn’t have mattered) including the oven temperature and cook time. Her cook time was WAY too short (I think I’d blame this on the cheap apartment oven before I’d blame it on Ree), so I left it in even longer. But, there came a point where I was about to either faint from hunger or start eating whatever I saw, and I just decided it was ok to just get the freakin’ thing out of the oven and try to eat it.

I am gagging as I write this.

The first bite sent me dry heaving (but the salad was so good!). DC liked it but said he liked my recipe better (HA!!) and he tried to convince me it was just like eating a burger cooked medium,

but deep inside, he was so skeptical.

Random: I’d like to think I would make it on Amazing Race, but in reality, if they made me eat anything like this during a food challenge, I would lose the game and DC would be livid. Perhaps I need to work on my eating-it-anyway game face. What am I saying?

We ended up eating the nastygrossloaf. I KNOW!!! HURL!!! And for “some unknown reason” DC got to feeling a little worse that night.

Wife fail. Cooking fail. Meatloaf fail. Healing the sick fail. I could go all day.

But wait! The next night DC made open face meatloaf sandwiches (we still kept the leftovers…) and cooked the slices in the toaster oven before he put them on the sandwich. Much better.

I can always count on him to make fun of/save my cooking failures.

Go buy PW’s book. Especially if you want to learn to cook some really good southern dishes, which I promise I know how to do (ish). Remember? He liked my recipe better.

Enough. Get the book.