The Wine-Drunk Italian Chef, Vol. 2: Italian Meatloaf Dinner

Itsa me! Your Wine-Drunk Italian Chef, Jason Provencio. Ready to serve up an Italian version of an American staple, meatloaf. This is the version you’re more likely to get from Artie Bucco at Vesuvio’s, on The Sopranos. Ketchup-topped, flavorless, suburban meatloaf? Fuhgeddaboutit!

I honestly can’t remember where I learned this recipe, or if I even thought of it myself. Perhaps I saw it in my online travels. Maybe it’s the two or three goblets of cabernet I’ve had tonight. Not knowing. Not caring. Just be glad I can remember the details of this awesome meatloaf recipe that you and your family will love.

Once again, I have my lovely assistant/co-chef Avery the first to help me make this delicious dinner happen. This one takes a bit of time because we’re not only making the Italian meatloaf itself, but my regionally-famous red sauce, delicious baked potatoes slathered in olive oil and coarse salt, along with buttery garlic Brussel sprouts.

We have a lot going on here tonight, so it’s advisable to have an awesome assistant like Avery “Meadow” Pro-prano. She’s not an actual mafia princess but plays one in the kitchen. She’ll make fun of your mother, then give you a big, heartfelt hug. She also picks the BEST music while we’re cooking an Italian take on an American classic dish. Ask her about The Pretty Wreckless.

Ave starts us off on our culinary journey by spinning “And So It Went”. I tip my recently-filled full glass of cab toward her, she points her murder knife back toward me, and away we go.

She starts slicin’ and dicin’ numerous ingredients, while competition is payin’ the price. She’s gonna knock it OUT. Her mama said knock it OUT. Just like LL would. Ladies Love Cool Ave. That’s not just a gay joke because she’s a lesbian. It’s because she’s a wonderful human. I adore my wonderful daughter.

Avery gets us started with chopping up not one, not two, but THREE types of onions to go in this wonderful loaf of meat. She tells me my mom loves her loaf of meat. I ask her what that even means, and all I get is a silly, teenager giggle back. This freakin’ kid. I couldn’t see sharing my kitchen with anyone but her.

Next, she wields her razor-sharp cutting utensil on some mushrooms with the skill of Danny Trejo in Machete. We now have a large mixing bowl full of yellow, red, and green onions, plus the mushrooms. We’re stackin’ ingredients like bodies an ’83 Cadillac DeVille’s trunk, but it smells better.

Time to add some extras to the equation. A big scoop of garlic from the jar. A large scoop of pesto. Two large spoonfuls of Worcestershire sauce. A cup and a half of Italian breadcrumbs. Two raw eggs. Then it’s time to bring the meat. “Your MOM likes when we bring the meat.”

The meat isn’t from Satriale’s, but at least we know there’s no chance it’s a relative of John Gotti’s. One pound of spicy ground Italian Sausage, as well as a pound of ground beef. Shake some shredded parmesan cheese into that concoction as well. Add a cup and a half of Italian bread crumbs.

We mix all the ingredients together like some ready-mix cement, perfect for a pair of cement shoes. But we don’t talk about that. You didn’t see nothin’. Nobody rats. Never go against the family.

Oh, we can’t forget the olive oil. Why does it always have to be “extra-virgin”? That’s weird. Next time I’m lookin’ for “lightly-fucked”, not “extra-virgin”. Capiche? Now we add the spices.

I like food spicy. My family likes food spicy. It’s somewhat of a family tradition, at 10+ years into our thing. I remember the first time I made my red sauce for the kids. It was the second night my Bride and I hung out together.

We had a lovely first date the night prior. *Spoiler alert, I put out on the first date. She was gorgeous. She had the kind of body that would make a bishop kick out a stained glass window. But I digress.

I promptly asked her what she was doing the next night. She mentioned she had her kids, and I happened to have six-year-old Avery with me that weekend. I suggested that maybe she let me cook my regionally-famous spaghetti dinner for her and our kids. She was receptive to this idea, and so it went.

Her son noticed it was somewhat spicy and commented about how spicy it was. Me and Avery’s response? “Eh, you’ll get used to it.” And damned if he didn’t. His sis, too. We’ve all had at least 300 or more red-sauce dinners in our ten and a half years together.

So back to the spices in this Italian meatloaf of ours. Italian seasoning, garlic salt, garlic powder, onion powder, chili powder, cayenne pepper, paprika, and bold Greek seasoning. How much, you ask? Once again:

My dearly departed Nana, whispering in my ear, “That’s enough, Child.”

I shake until the spirit of my wonderful grandmother tells me to cut it off. I wish I could give you more information than that, but yours will guide you in the process. Trust me.

Oh shit, I just remembered something. I should have mentioned that I start the baked potatoes first. They have to have time to cook while we’re putting together this masterpiece of an Italian meatloaf. Well, no worries. Just remember that this part should have been at the beginning of this blog. Stupid wine.

Wash and scrub however many baked potatoes you need for yourself, your hot little date, or your family and friends. Lay down some tinfoil on a cooking sheet. Yeah, you read that right. It’s a COOKING sheet, not a cookie sheet. Dumbass.

I kid, I kid. I thought it was a “cookie sheet” myself, until last year. I’m not proud to admit that, but I’ll never lie to you. You and me, we have a good thing. That’s why you’re gonna keep reading my cooking blogs. Plus all of my other ones. We’re good like that.

Alright, so put tinfoil over your cooking sheet, then stab your potatoes with a fork, all over the top of each. Take out that pent-up aggression you have toward your boss, your landlord, the GOP, or anything else that particularly pisses you off. Light those fuckers up.

Then coat each potato liberally with olive oil all over. Don’t be afraid to really stroke those spuds. Then some coarse salt over the top, bottom, and sides. See how easy that was? Then just toss them in the oven which you’ve pre-heated to 425 degrees.

Shit, that too was supposed to be at the beginning of this blog. Goddamn, I’m doing this all over the place. I’m Tarantino-ing this blog. Oh well, it will make sense when you read it. Unless you’re wine-drunk, too. I guess you just gotta laugh it off. Frankie was right when he said, “That’s Life”.

So do this in the correct order and not like a damn “Choose-Your-Own-Adventure” book like we used to order from the book fair in grade school. Those were awesome, along with the Hello Kitty erasers. Your potatoes should be about done by the time your meatloaf is ready. Back to that meatloaf now.

Marone! I forgot to mention the red sauce, too! Sweet Robert DeNiro’s balls, what was I thinking with this one? Ok, one more detour on this road trip.

The potato thing FIRST. Get those dirt-crops in the oven. Then we get the red sauce going. As in Vol. 1 of The Wine-Drunk Italian Chef’s Baked Ziti blog, follow that recipe for the red sauce.

Brief recap: Heated olive oil, chopped onions, garlic, chopped mushrooms, pesto, Nana’s spices, and a stock red sauce, but a smaller job for this Italian Meatloaf recipe. Refer to the Ziti blog for extra details.

Ok, so that goes on the oven top after the baked potatoes and now we return to the meatloaf. Grab your 13x9 Pyrex dish. Wait, what? You don’t have one. Aw, Christ in a Cappucino, please get on Amazon and order this one, pronto.

Ok, assuming you have one or something similar, spray that down with Pam or some other cooking spray. Take your giant Italian meatball and dump a scoop of the red sauce all over it, for the final mixing.

Then transform all of that into a meatloaf, distributing it evenly in the pan. Flatten it enough to where there’s room for our red sauce, but not too flat that you’d see a Jimmy Hoffa bump sticking up through it.

Time to dump the red gravy over the top of our Italian meatloaf. We’re going to cook this uncovered for 45–50 minutes at 350 degrees. Don’t forget to kick the oven temp down from the 425 it was on for the baked potatoes to 350 for our meatloaf. This is dinner, not an arson.

While the meatloaf is doing its thing, take this extra time to prepare some garlic bread, a salad if you’re so inclined, set the table, or take a load off and relax. I use this opportunity to refill on the cabernet while my junior partner takes care of the bread and tells me my mother is a who-er. In not so many words. And my metaphorical mother, of course. She loves her grandma.

Oh, I mentioned buttery garlic Brussel sprouts, didn’t I? Dammit. Well, I’m a man of my word, if I’m anything. It’s easy enough. I take a pound of frozen Brussel sprouts and microwave it covered for six minutes. Then I take it out of the microwave and slather it with butter, salt, and a little bit of garlic salt. Stir it well, cover it, and microwave it for another six minutes. Easy peasy.

Once the meatloaf hits its time, pull that thing out with oven mitts. I can’t believe I’m having to say that, but if you read this and were relieved that little detail was mentioned, I’m glad I saved your hands. Even if you don’t deserve my heroics.

The final step is sprinkling grated cheese all over the top of our soon-to-be masterpiece. I like combining shredded parm and shredded six-cheese Italian from the bag. You can use anything you like, but be sure it’s evenly spread over your Italian meatloaf.

Put back in the oven uncovered and cook for 10 to 12 more minutes, or until the cheese is either bubbly or crispy, whatever people do. You’ll know it looks right when you see it. I don’t need to hold your hand through this entire process.

Well, that’s about it. This recipe will blow your mother’s ketchup-topped meatloaf out of the water. Your granny’s, too. It’s REALLY good. If you have any leftover spaghetti sitting in the fridge, the meatloaf really is good in that as well. Think of it like spaghetti and Italian meatballs. But not round.

Thank you for tuning into the Wine-Drunk Italian Chef’s blog Vol. 2. I hope these recipes are enjoyed by you, family, friends, loved ones, or that hot chick or dude you’re hoping to bang after a nice romantic dinner. Always glad to do our part to help facilitate that. &:^)

Ingredients for Italian Meatloaf

1 large yellow onion, 1 red onion, 1 bunch of green onions

1 medium pack of baby bella mushrooms

(1) 16 oz. tube of spicy ground Italian sausage

(1) 16 oz. tube of ground beef

(1) 24 oz. jar of Prego spaghetti sauce

(1) 8oz bag of shredded Italian cheese (I like 6 cheese Italian)

(1) 8oz bag of shredded parmesan cheese

2 large spoonfuls of pesto

1 large scoop of garlic from a jar

2 raw eggs

1 1/2 cups of Italian bread crumbs

2 big spoonfuls of Worchester sauce

Liberal shakes of Italian seasoning, onion powder, garlic salt, garlic powder, and bold Greek seasoning into the meat mixture

Slightly fewer shakes of chili powder, cayenne pepper, and paprika.