Ham and Cheese Stuffed Meatloaf


My relationship with meatloaf runs the gamut from love to hate depending on whose meatloaf it is.  First and foremost, anything called mystery meatloaf is out.  Served at a cafeteria?  Ditto. Any meatloaf made by a person who is less than particular about the sorts of ground parts than I am comfortable with (innards? animals not normally consumed in identifiable cuts? skin and feathers?  You hear me McDonald’s?! … oh, sorry, off on a toot.  Though in that vein, thank the gods they aren’t in the meatloaf business. Could you just imagine? I shudder to think).

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That’s all you’ve got to say and they come running.  Few things make me as content in the kitchen as making pizza.  It’s a slow-down, wine-in-hand, stop-and-smell-the-pepperoni, family-absorbing time.  I putter around making dough and sauces, cutting up, and sauteeing… it can take as little as half-an-hour to prep or upwards of half a day, depending on my mood.  Both can turn out faboo pies and attract wayward family members from the far corners.

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