Italian Meat Loaf — The Comfort Food I Made for a Friend Who Never Got Old Enough to Eat It

Danny's birthday is next Tuesday. He would have been twenty-two. I've been thinking about him more this week. Not in the heavy, suffocating way I used to — the way that felt like drowning — but in a lighter way. Remembering the good stuff. Like the time we built a ramp in his driveway and tried to jump our bikes over his dog, who refused to move and just looked at us with total contempt. Or the time we snuck into a Brewers game by walking in behind a large family and pretending we belonged. Or the time Danny ate an entire jar of jalapeños on a dare and spent the rest of the night lying on his bathroom floor saying, "Worth it." Danny didn't cook. He could barely make toast. His mom, Mrs. Katz — Rachel — did all the cooking, and she was good at it. Jewish-American comfort food: brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, latkes. Danny used to joke that he was going to marry someone who could cook because he sure as hell wasn't going to learn. He was sixteen. He thought he had time. I'm going to visit his grave on Tuesday. I'll bring Helen's Wheat. Danny never got to drink a beer — he died at sixteen, four years before he would have been legal, and I know he would have been the guy who pretended to like craft beer to seem sophisticated but secretly preferred Miller Lite, like Dad. This week I cooked Danny's favorite food, or what would have been his favorite food if he'd ever learned to appreciate food beyond pizza rolls and Doritos: a smash burger. Two thin patties, American cheese, diced onions, pickles, yellow mustard, squishy white bun. The kind of burger that doesn't try to be anything other than exactly what it is. I made them in the cast iron skillet — screaming hot, pressed flat with a spatula, cheese melted over the top — and they were perfect in that uncomplicated, deeply American way that Danny would have loved. I made four. Ate two. Put two on a plate and set them on the counter across from me and pretended, for just a minute, that Danny was there. That he was twenty-two and sitting in my kitchen eating smash burgers and giving me grief about something — my hair, my Jeep, the Packers' draft picks, anything. We would have been the kind of friends who gave each other grief until we were old men. The plate sat there until the burgers got cold. Then I wrapped them up and ate them for lunch the next day. Waste not.

The smash burgers I made that week were exactly right — no recipe needed, just instinct and a hot cast iron pan — but after I wrapped up the leftovers and sat with the quiet of the kitchen, I wanted something that took a little longer. Something that made the apartment smell like someone lived there. This Italian Meat Loaf is that recipe: ground beef, simple pantry ingredients, a little marinara on top, and about an hour in the oven to think about whatever you need to think about. Danny would have eaten three slices and complained there wasn’t more. That’s the highest compliment I know how to give a recipe right now.

Italian Meat Loaf

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 65 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs ground beef (80/20)
• 1/2 cup Italian-seasoned breadcrumbs
• 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/3 cup whole milk
• 3/4 cup marinara sauce, divided
• 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan or line a rimmed baking sheet with foil.
2. Mix the loaf. In a large bowl, combine the ground beef, breadcrumbs, Parmesan, eggs, milk, 1/4 cup of the marinara, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, pepper, and parsley. Mix with your hands until just combined — do not overwork the meat or the loaf will be dense.
3. Form and top. Transfer the mixture to the prepared pan and shape into a firm, even loaf. Spread the remaining 1/2 cup marinara evenly over the top.
4. Bake. Bake uncovered for 60—65 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center reads 160°F and the top is set and slightly caramelized.
5. Rest before slicing. Let the loaf rest in the pan for 10 minutes before slicing. This keeps it from falling apart and lets the juices redistribute.
6. Serve. Slice into 6 portions and serve warm. Good with mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, or just on its own with a fork at the kitchen counter.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 318 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 560mg