I’ll spare you my standard speech about miniature food. Suffice it to say: If it’s small, I’m all over it. These mini meat loaves are no exception.

Based on Ina Garten’s fabulous recipe, these meat loaves pack huge comfort-food goodness in a small package. They’re a great thing to serve at a dinner party. I mean, come on: Who wouldn’t love a little meatloaf, made just for them?

Ina’s original recipe calls for all chuck (which is cheap and delicious).

I used a more traditional meatloaf mix of beef, pork, and veal. Use any mix of meat you like. Just be sure you wind up with 2 1/2 lbs. For the beef, definitely get ground chuck if you can. It has tons of flavor.

I also swapped in panko bread crumbs for regular, which provide a nice texture.

Panko are Japanese bread crumbs (made from crustless white bread). Most major grocery stores carry panko these days. If you can’t find them in your area, hit up an Asian market or order some online.

Panko bread crumbs

These little loaves are moist and meaty and all-together nap inducing, like all good comfort food. They have a subtle sweetness from a few cups of caramelized sweet onions, and mellow, earthy notes from mushroom soy sauce and a generous amount of fresh thyme.

The top gets covered in regular old ketchup. I like Heinz, but by all means, use your favorite.

Barbecue sauce would work, too, though the flavor could be overpowering depending on what kind you use.

Command your own little meatloaf army

Even if it’s just for a little while. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Seriously, though, they’re kind of fun to make. Tell me I’m wrong. (Smoosh, form, paint with ketchup…)

Alrighty. To the kitchen!

Mini Meat Loaves

Based on Ina Garten’s recipe

1 Tbls. olive oil
3 cups sweet onions, chopped (from 2-3 large onions)
2 tsp. chopped fresh thyme leaves
2 tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. freshly cracked black pepper
3 Tbls. mushroom soy sauce
1/3 cup chicken stock
1 Tbls. tomato paste
1 lb. ground chuck (81% lean)
1 lb. ground pork
1/2 lb. ground veal
1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
2 extra-large eggs, beaten
1/2 cup ketchup
fresh parsley, minced, for garnish

Yields about 6 mini meat loaves

Preheat your oven to 350.

Caramelize the onions

Grab your onions.

Remove the peels and chop them up.

Put the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pan on the stove over medium heat. Measure out 3 cups of onions. Toss them in the pan.

Add the thyme, black pepper, and a little kosher salt. (Go easy on the salt because you’re going to add mushroom soy, which is plenty salty, later on.) Stir to combine.

Cook over medium heat for 8-10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until translucent and brown. (Keep an eye on your heat and turn it down if need be. You want them to brown, but not stick to the pan and burn.)

When they look about like this, yank the pan off the heat.

Add the mushroom soy sauce, tomato paste, and chicken stock to the pan with the onions.

Stir to combine. Set the pan aside for a minute or two while you deal with the meat.

Make the meat mixture

Grab your meat. Toss it all in a large bowl.

Add the panko bread crumbs.

Quickly beat the eggs.

Pour the beaten eggs into the bowl.

And add the onion mixture.

Now, here’s the trick to making meatloaf that’s light and fluffy (i.e. not dense, thick, and heavy). Are you ready?

*dramatic music*

Don’t overmix it.

In fact, handle the mixture as little as possible—only enough to combine the ingredients together. Kind of the same way you make biscuits. That’s what you want to do here.

So, with your hands (or a fork, if you’d rather not get your paws all gooey), gently mix the ingredients together until just combined.

Like this:

Line a baking sheet with foil, then set a piece of parchment paper on top (if they stick, they’ll be much easier to get off the paper than the foil).

Form the loaves

Measure out 1 1/4 cups of meatloaf mixture. Plop it on your pan.

Shape the mixture gently, so that it resembles half a football. Again, you want to go easy here. Don’t mash the mixture together, which can make it tough and dense.

Repeat with the rest of your mixture, until you have 6 mini loaves.

I made mine a little smaller, so I could have enough to experiment with baking them in ramekins.

Grab your ketchup. Plunk a generous tablespoon on top of each loaf.

With your finger (or the back of a spoon), spread the ketchup around so that it covers the top.

Repeat with all your loaves.

Bake the meat loaves

Pop them into your preheated 350-degree oven. If you’re baking them in ramekins, set the dishes on a pan to catch any drips (mine bubbled over a little).

Bake 40-45 minutes, until they reach an internal temperature of 155-160 degrees. Start checking them after about 30 minutes, as your final cooking time will depend on how thick your particular loaves are. When they’re done, yank them out of the oven.

Now, depending on how fatty your meat is, your meat loaves are going to let out a little—or a lot—of juice. Don’t be alarmed if yours look like this. It’s kind of gross, I know. But it’s just fine.

Just scoop them off the pan with 2 spatulas.

Transfer them to a serving platter, and…presto! Little, picture-perfect rustic meat loaves. Sprinkle with minced parsley.

Oh, the meat loaves in the ramekins. They were good, but a wee bit on the greasy side. I’m not sure I’d do it again.

Let me tell ya: These are fabulous straight out of the oven. I swear, though, they’re even better the next day, reheated with cheese on a toasted bulkie roll.

Enjoy!

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By now, you guys probably know about the great love affair I have with my butcher shop, McKinnon’s. When I go, I partly have a shopping list in mind, and I partly decide what to buy based on what looks good, what’s on sale, and what’s new or unusual. That last part is how I came home with a big veal flank the other day.

Now, I’ve made plenty of veal in my day, but have never encountered a whole veal flank before. And you know me: I just couldn’t resist. So this was an experiment. A happy, delicious experiment, as it turns out.

(Has anyone cooked one of these before? If you have, definitely pipe up and let me know what you did and how it came out!)

If you can’t find a veal flank like this, this recipe for whiskey cream broth is great on just about any kind of veal (or chicken, for that matter).

So what is a veal flank, anyway?

Good question. Let’s start with a picture.

Here’s my veal flank (you may see already why I couldn’t resist bringing it home…it’s big, it’s kind of a funny shape, it’s clearly folded under itself so you can’t see exactly how big it is…):

The top part looks very similar to a beef flank steak in size, shape, and long-grained texture.

When I flipped it over, I saw that the rib bones were still attached. I thought about trimming them off, but figured that I’d cook it the way I bought it. At least this first time.

There’s a separation between the meat and the ribs, which one of the ladies who works at the butcher advised me makes a fabulous pocket for stuffing.

The flank comes from the belly of the cow—and tends to be on the tougher side (think flank steak) because it’s a well exercised muscle. No problem, I reasoned. Low and slow cooking should be just the thing to tenderize it.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth

Based on all this, I decided to braise the veal flank until it was fall-off-the-bone tender.

I finished it with The Angry Chef’s fabulous whiskey cream broth. It’s one of his signature sauces for veal dishes, and is a great way to conjure up restaurant-quality flavor at home.

Braised Veal Flank in Whiskey Cream Broth

1 whole veal flank, about 3 1/2 lbs
2 Tbls. olive oil
kosher salt
1/2 cup whiskey
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 Tbls butter, cut into thin slices
ground white pepper
1 tsp. garlic, minced
7 fresh sage leaves, cut into short ribbons

For the whiskey cream broth
Pan juices from braised veal flank
1/2 cup whiskey
3/4 cup heavy cream
7 sage leaves, cut into short ribbons

Serves about 4 for dinner

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Do a little prep

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Grab an ovenproof pan that’s large enough to hold your veal flank. Ideally, it should have a tight-fitting lid. If not, you can improvise one with aluminum foil.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Sear the veal

Most good braises start with seared meat. Searing helps develop color and flavor. Sprinkle the veal with kosher salt.

Heat a pan on the stove over high heat for a minute or two. The veal flank was pretty big, so I used my double-burner grill pan.

Drizzle a little olive oil on the pan. Set your flank meaty side down on the pan to sear it.

When the bottom is browned and has started to develop a nice crust, flip it over. It probably won’t lie completely flat. That’s just fine. Sear what you can on the other side.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Assemble the veal for braising

When both sides are seared, transfer the veal flank to your roasting pan. Put it in the pan meaty side up.

Pour 1/2 cup of whiskey over it.

Pour in the chicken stock.

Dot the top of the veal flank with butter.

Stack up 7 sage leaves.

Cut them into thin ribbons.

Sprinkle the veal flank with the sage ribbons.

Sprinkle with chopped garlic and white pepper.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Into the oven!

Cover with a tight-fitting lid (or tightly seal with aluminum foil).

Pop the pan into your preheated oven. Braise like this at 350 degrees for about 2 hours, until the meat is fall-off-the-bone tender.

When it’s done, transfer the veal flank to a serving platter.

Tent with foil while you make the whiskey cream sauce.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Make the whiskey cream

After you pull your veal flank out of the roasting pan, you’ll be left with all that lovely braising liquid.

Pour it into a medium-sized pot.

Set it over high heat and bring it up to a boil. While you wait, slice up the other 7 sage leaves just like you did before.

When it’s boiling, toss in the sage.

Lower the heat to medium. Pour in the whiskey.

And the cream.

Whisk to combine.

After a minute or two, it should come back up to a bubble. (If it doesn’t, raise the heat a little.) Simmer for a few minutes, whisking occasionally, to let the sauce come together and thicken a little.

Rustic Veal Flank with Whiskey Cream Broth: Serve and enjoy!

Like I said, this wound up being a fairly rustic dish. I whacked the veal flank in a few big pieces, cutting between the ribs, and served them on large plates, drizzled with whiskey cream broth.

Serve with large, crusty hunks of bread to sop up all that beautiful sauce.

Enjoy!

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When I saw that our butcher had put out a spread of thick veal rib chops a few days ago, I couldn’t resist. I can usually only find these around the holidays.

These rib chops are caramelized on both sides with shallots and butter, and then simmered in a shallow bath of white wine infused with garlic and fresh thyme—a technique that ensures that this thick cut will have a ton of flavor, and still stay juicy, moist, and tender.

The end result is meat that’s flecked with bits of jammy shallot, thyme, and garlic and coated in a fragrant reduction that’s been enriched with sumptuous melted veal fat.

This dish makes a festive and impressive meal. It’s a perfect thing for an intimate Christmas or New Year’s Eve dinner for two.

Serve with mashed potatoes spiked with plenty of butter and cream and asparagus that’s been sauteed in butter and sprinkled with toasted pine nuts.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: A note on ingredients

Since veal has a more delicate flavor than beef, I paired my rib chops with shallot instead of onion, which has a stronger flavor.

For the white wine, use any kind that you like to drink. It doesn’t have to be expensive, but the wine’s flavor will only concentrate as it cooks, so it’s important you start with something you like.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: A note on selecting veal rib chops

Veal rib chops are usually about an inch to an inch-and-a-half thick, and—true to their name—have the rib bone attached. If you can find it, look for milk-fed veal, as it will have the sweetest flavor.

For more information on how to select cuts of veal, legendary New York City butcher Lobel’s has some pretty thorough advice (including what to avoid when shopping).

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction

2 milk-fed veal rib chops, about 1 lb. each
1 shallot, minced
kosher salt
2 cloves garlic, mashed
1 Tbls. fresh thyme
3/4 cup white wine

Serves 2 as a main course

You’ll want to make these in a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan. Your pan should be big enough that you can fit both rib chops in without them touching. If you’re making a double recipe for four, you might want to use two pans.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Cook the shallots in butter

Put the butter in the pan over low heat to melt it.

While the butter’s melting, peel and mince up your shallot.

Swirl the butter around in the pan to coat the bottom.

Toss in the minced shallot.

Give it a stir to coat the shallot in butter and distribute it evenly around the pan. Turn the heat up to medium.

Cook the shallot over medium heat for a few minutes until it just starts to brown. If it starts to burn, turn your heat down.

In the meantime, grab your rib chops from the fridge. Unwrap them, and sprinkle them with a little kosher salt on both sides.

When your shallot just starts to brown, it should look about like this:

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Add the veal rib chops to the pan

Add your rib chops to the pan right on top of the shallots.

Make sure that they don’t touch. You want them to brown at this point. If you crowd them together, they’ll kind of steam instead.

As they cook, some of the veal’s fat will melt off into the pan, which gives your sauce extra fabulous flavor.

Raise the heat a little to medium-high. Let the rib chops cook, untouched, for 8-10 minutes, depending on how thick they are.

Mine were about an inch-and-a-half thick, and I cooked them for about 10 minutes on each side. If they start to burn or smoke, turn your heat down.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Flip your chops

After about 10 minutes, your rib chops should be nicely browned on the bottom. Flip them over with tongs.

Let them cook like this, untouched, for another 8-10 minutes over medium-high heat. Again, if they start to burn or smoke, turn your heat down.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Prep your garlic and thyme

While your meat is cooking, mash up your garlic and measure out your thyme leaves.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Deglaze your pan

After your rib chops have cooked on the second side for about 10 minutes, remove them from the pan and put them on a plate.

While both sides should look cooked at this point, your rib chops won’t be done in the middle. (Note that the strip of meat down the center of the rib bone is most likely still pink.) That’s why you’re going to simmer them for another 10 minutes.

Set the plate aside for a minute.

The bottom of your pan should be coated with beautiful, caramelized goodness, like this:

With the heat on medium-high, add the wine to deglaze the pan. Watch your hands and face, as the pan will let off an impressive amount of steam when you pour it in.

Scrape at the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to loosen up all the browned bits. Toss in the garlic and thyme.

Stir to combine well with the wine. At this point, your kitchen should smell amazing.

Holiday Veal Rib Chops with Caramelized Shallot Reduction: Simmer the rib chops

Add the rib chops back to the pan.

Cover your pan with a tight-fitting lid. Turn the heat down to medium. Simmer like this for about 10 minutes.

After about 10 minutes, uncover your pan. Turn the heat up to medium-high to start to reduce some of the liquid for your sauce.

Now at this point, your rib chops should be completely cooked. If you’re unsure, cut a little nick into one and take a peek. The inside should be completely opaque and white (not pink) in color.

After a minute or two, remove the rib chops to their serving plates.

Depending on how much juice you have in the pan, you might want to raise the heat to high and whisk it a little to reduce it further.

Top your rib chops with a few spoonfuls of the reduced sauce. Serve and enjoy!

***
Copyright 2008-2009 The Hungry Mouse™/Jessica B. Konopa. All rights reserved.

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So, when I ask my friends what they have the most trouble cooking, the answer will very likely be: “Meat!” (Or, “Steak!” or “Veal!”) Sometimes it’s, “I can’t grill pork chops. They always dry out, no matter what I do.” Or, “Every time I roast a chicken, it’s burnt on the outside and raw on the inside.”

The most important thing I’ve learned over the years is to match meat to cooking technique. Try to sear a brisket then serve it, and it’s going to be tough. Give it lots of slow, long heat, and it’ll melt in your mouth.

The first thing I tell my friends is, “When you buy your meat, ask your butcher how to cook it.” Followed by, “Do a little reading.”

The good news is, there are a lot of great cookbooks about meat. They’re well organized, easy to read, and make it easy to find the info you need. For quick online info, Lobel’s of New York is encyclopedic in its information.

Here’s a quick overview of some of my all-time favorite cookbooks—along with a few that are still on my shopping list.

The Complete Meat Cookbook, by Bruce Aidells and Denis Kelly
This is the book that I always turn to first. (Admittedly, Aidells has already won my heart with his fantastic chicken and apple sausages.) Aidells and Kelly open up with a comprehensive primer on cooking techniques, from roasting to poaching—and everything in between. They discuss each method, which cuts of meat are best suited to it, and how to select those cuts at the market. Then, they give you a “Master Technique” for each.

The bulk of the book is divided by type of meat: beef, pork, lamb, and veal. Each section talks about how to select cuts, and includes illustrations to make identification easy. I often turn to the “Steaks at a Glance” chart, which lists out every possible type of steak (along with its various regional aliases) and how it’s best prepared. The recipes are well written and easy to follow, and show you how to put their Master Techniques to work.

The book is made up of recipes and illustrations, peppered with full-color photo pages. If you had to pick just one book on meat, I’d say this is the one to buy. It’s comprehensive, and easy to read and reference.

How to Cook Meat, by Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby
And this is the second book I turn to. I love Schlesinger just a wee bit more because he’s a local guy, and heads up the East Coast Grill in Cambridge, MA—one of my favorite watering holes. If you’re in the area, go have a bite. The spicy food—and luscious cocktails—will knock your socks off.

Like The Complete Meat Cookbook, the front of this book also has a detailed description of cooking techniques. The text is longer and less chunked up, which means it takes a little more time to scan for the info you need. There’s also a good discussion about different types of meat-specific cooking equipment.

The rest of the book treats each type of meat in its own section. Each chapter opens with background information on cuts of meat and what to look for at the market. This is followed by a handful of recipes. Each recipe has a handy sidebar that tells you what cut you need to make the dish, other names for it, and what you can substitute if you can’t find what they recommend. There’s also a “Butcherspeak” blurb, which gives you insider tips on what to ask your butcher for.

Steaks, Chops, Roasts & Ribs, by the editors of Cook’s Illustrated
This book is extra close to my heart (and my stomach) because I had the honor of doing some editing and proofreading on it. The good folks at Cook’s Illustrated and America’s Test Kitchen are known for their relentless and thorough recipe testing, and this volume is no exception. What’s more, they explain how and what they tested, which can save you the time—and hassle—of experimenting with certain things yourself.

The book’s front matter features a meat-buying guide, complete with several detailed illustrations. Then, instead of being organized by meat, each of this book’s 16 chapters is devoted to a cooking technique (as in, “Chapter 4: I Want to Grill Chops.”) Each chapter includes a preface that describes how they arrived at their current recipes. They explain what they did that worked—and what didn’t. Each chapter is also packed with recipes and variations. For example, the section on “Braised Lamb Chops” includes four separate dishes.

The last chapter of the book, “Rubs, Sauces, Salsas, and Gravy” is packed with all sorts of yummy, spicy goodness to help you dress up what you make. (Hoisin, Honey, and Ginger Glaze, anyone?)

Pigs And Pork: 90 Recipes from Italy’s Most Celebrated Chefs, by Daniela Garavini
This book is a glorious tour of the pig as an integral part of our culture and society. Filled with folklore and lavish pictures and illustrations, it’s just one volume of Konemann’s “History, Folklore, Ancient Recipes” series.

The first part of the book takes you through the rich history of the pig throughout the ages, including a chapter on recipes from the 16th through 19th centuries. (Wondering how to cook Pork with Eels? Look no further.) The remainder of the book features recipes from 55 Italian chefs, complete with wine pairing recommendations.

Heller’s Secrets of Meat Curing and Sausage Making, by B. Heller
First published in 1904 by Chicago’s B. Heller & Company, Heller’s Secrets of Meat Curing and Sausage Making is basically a meat-packers manual. While not necessarily 100% relevant for the home cook, it’s a great read for anyone interested in the history and how-to of American meat packing. If you want to snag a copy, you’ll need to track it down on eBay or Old Cookbooks, or give Bonnie Slotnick a call. You can also download an electronic version of the book through the American Libraries Internet Archive.

The front of the book is devoted to proper dispatching and dressing of animals. The back portion details packing-house recipes for fresh and cooked sausages. The proportions are gigantic, but in theory, the recipes could be scaled down and monkeyed with by a determined (and adventurous) home cook. There’s a really good section on how to properly hang sausages to dry. The final pages showcase display ads for butcher’s supplies, including Freeze-Em-Pickle and Bull-Meat-Brand Flour.

(For all you zombie apocalypse conspiracy theorists out there, stick this one on the shelf right next to your US Army Survival Manual.)

Books I have my eye on
You know—and I admit that I have a problem—you can never have too many cookbooks. Here are a few I’d like to add to my collection. (My list is vastly longer, but I’ll save the rest for the inevitable Part II of this article.)

The River Cottage Meat Book, by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
Somehow, I have a feeling that anyone who runs a 60-acre animal farm can teach me a thing or two about how to cook meat. Originally published in the United Kingdom, this version has been retooled slightly for an American audience.

The Meat Buyer’s Guide, by the North American Meat Processors Association
I have a thing for manuals and guide-like books. The more it looks like a textbook, the more likely I am to be (inexplicably) drawn to it. This book is a food-service standard for buying beef, lamb, veal, pork, and poultry. While it’s not a recipe book, I’d be interested in getting an inside perspective on the modern meat business.

Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing, by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn
I’ve haven’t made my own sausages. Yet. Growing up, I would listen to my father’s Italian barber talk about how his attic was hung thickly with all sorts of salty, cured meats in various stages of drying perfection. I also love a good culinary challenge—which is exactly what the several-days-long process of making a salami presents. Sign me up.

***
Copyright 2008 The Hungry Mouse™/Jessica B. Konopa. All rights reserved.

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