This was my favorite food for years, I want to say ages five to eight. This decadent and beloved meatloaf is a true ode to umami, beef mixed with prosciutto and parmesan make up the loaf itself and it is cooked in a rich tomato wine, and mushroom sauce. The dried mushrooms are a must, adding an even richer dark flavor to the dish. I have many memories of requesting this, not knowing how involved the making of it actually was and it is a true testament to my parents love for me that they followed through on these requests. I haven’t eaten this since I was around 12 or 13 and only have faint memories of its taste. It would be an understatement to say that I am nervous to cook this not only because it takes a lot of work and focus but also the emotions that are tied to it. I have a feeling I am going to cry upon my first bite of this dish. So many things have happened not only to me but my family since I have eaten this last and being brought back to the days of this meatloaf is going to be a test of not only skill but emotional strength. I knew that when I imagined this project up that I would have to make this dish and rather than pushing it off as long as I can, I figured I would kick things off with it. I am curious to meet this meatloaf now as a young woman, our reunion is long overdue.
RECIPE:
From: The Classic Italian Cookbook (Pages 238-240) serves 2-4
- 1 ounce dried wild mushrooms
- 1 lb lean ground beef
- A 2 by 2 inch square of good quality white bread, crusts removed
- 1 tbs milk
- 1 tbs finely chopped yellow onion
- 2 teaspoons salt
- Freshly ground pepper, about six twists of the mill
- 2 tbs chopped prosciutto, or pancetta, or mortadella, or if you can’t really obtain any of these, unsmoked ham
- 1/3 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
- 1/4 tsp finely chopped garlic
- 1 egg yolk
- 3/4 cup fine, dry unflavored breadcrumbs, spread on a platter or waxed paper
- 1 tbs butter
- 2 tbs vegetable oil
- 1/3 cup dry white wine
- 2 tbs tomato paste
Put the dried mushrooms in a small bowl with 1 cup of lukewarm water. Let them soak at least 20 minutes.
Put chopped meat in a bowl, loosening up with a fork.
Put bread and milk in small pan. Over medium heat, mash it with a fork until it is creamy. Add it to the meat in the bowl, along with the onion, salt, pepper, chopped prosciutto, grated cheese and garlic. Mix gently but thoroughly by hand until all ingredients have been incorporated into the meat. Add the egg yolk, mixing it into the other ingredients. Shape meat into a firmly packed ball. Place ball on a flat surface and roll it into a compact salami-like loaf about 2-1/2″ thick. Roll the loaf in the bread crumbs until it is evenly coated.
Drain the mushrooms, reserving the water they were in. Strain the dark liquid through a sieve and set aside. Rinse mushrooms and chop them roughly and set aside.
Choose a heavy-bottom casserole, over medium heat, heat all the butter and oil. When butter foam subsides, add the meat loaf and brown it well on all sides, handling the meat carefully lest the loaf break up.
When the meat has evenly browned, add the wine and raise the heat to medium high. Boil the wine briskly until reduced by half. Turn the loaf carefully once or twice.
Turn the heat down to medium low and add the chopped mushrooms. Warm up mushroom liquid in a small pan and stir the tomato paste into it. When tomato paste is thoroughly diluted, add to the meat. Cook and cover at a steady simmer, turning and basting once or twice. After 30 minutes, set the cover slightly askew and cook for another 30 minutes, turning the meat at least once.
Transfer meat to cutting board, allowing it to settle a few minutes, before cutting into slices about 3/8″ thick. Spoon sauce over the meat and serve.
Notes:
The notes that I have for this dish are few. I would recommend rolling out the meat a bit longer than I did, about two inches in diameter to account for shrinkage in the pot. I only had rosé available for this dish but I think it really does make a difference using the white wine as suggested, even adding a splash more than directed.
Afterthoughts
Going into this experience I was extremely nervous. I was intimidated by the dish itself and the work it takes to prepare it, even though in hindsight it was not that complex, and I was scared of the emotions it might dredge up. If I were to sum up my childhood in a few dishes this would be one of them, the complexity of the mushrooms and the richness of the beef marking eras and events throughout my upbringing. I wanted to handle the cooking of this dish with the utmost care, taking my time to carefully dice and measure out all the ingredients in advance, honoring the food and the process in which it comes together. As it was simmering in the pot I found myself hovering over it eagerly, lifting the lid to inspect it at any small shift or noise within the pot. As my apartment filled with the nostalgic smell, any apprehension or fear I had about this dish melted away as I was filled with a sense of deep comfort.
Coming out of the pot, I was surprised by the size of the meatloaf. It had shrunk considerably and if I were to make this again I would have defiantly rolled it out longer than that. Aside from the size, this dish came out beautifully: the mushrooms and tomato paste come together into a thick sauce in the pot, the fat from the beef glistens and takes on the rich hue of the tomatoes, the pancetta in the beef are bright salty notes in the darker toned grassiness of the beef. This dish is a masterclass in the intersection between comfort and class, nourishing you on every level. It is completely understandable that I selected this meatloaf to have for my seventh birthday, it can be acceptably served at a fancy dinner party and as consolation after a long day. I really couldn’t recommend this dish enough.
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