On a rainy afternoon at the BTRtoday office, my coworkers and I got a grand idea. Something that would cheer us up, pull us all out of our downtrodden lazy-day slump.
Yeah, you heard me right, meatloaf. Perhaps this wasn’t the sexiest way to spice up our lives, but we were excited about it dammit. We were going to get our meatloaf if our lives depended on it.
Due to the sogginess of the weather, we decided the best route for meatloaf-to-mouth consumption would be delivery. So we found a place that could meet our needs: Hu Kitchen, located just a few blocks away. This spot was a whole foods, local, mostly Paleo eatery. Its whole philosophy is that humans should get back to eating the types of food that nourish our bodies and souls, leaving out unnecessary preservatives and added sugar.
This loaf came packed full of pork, beef, and wild elk. It promised to be delicious, and we were sold. So we placed our order, and waited patiently for the object of our desires to arrive.
But, we started to get antsy. How long does it take to make this thing anyways? Were they grinding the meat to order? Would it ever arrive? After about an hour, we got restless. We serenaded each other, raising our voices in harmony with the timeless music of the incomparable band by the very name of Meat Loaf. We belted desperately into the air “I would do anything for meatloaf!”
Eventually, our prayers were finally answered. The heavenly loaf arrived, and we gathered excitedly around a table to scarf down this special treat.
It was dry, and disappointing. Oh, well.