Cockloaf with a jerked banana glaze

a twist on a twist

Hello, my beautiful clowns!

It recently occurred to me that I have not developed a recipe for the newsletter in a while, and I thought that today would be a good day for me to work on one for you.

Recipe development takes a lot of work, personal inspiration, and courage (you must be so brave), which is why I sometimes shy away from doing this. Reading a scathing review from someone saying that they replaced every single ingredient with stuff that they stole out of the back of someone’s unlocked Jeep, and therefore hated the results, can take a toll on you. It hurts even more when they blame you for their divorce.

But because I am Dannis Ree, the greatest food writer in all of history, I will gladly forge new ground by creating a new, never-before seen recipe and show you the thought process behind it. This way, you too can start your own mildly successful Substack newsletter, yet never achieve a full career out of it.

I will let you in on a little recipe development secret that food bloggers and even high-up lifestyle culinary directors will never admit to you. You can make a new recipe by starting with an existing one, then sneakily replace enough parts of it so that you can call it your own. It’s like prying off your Nissan Sentra’s emblem and slapping a bootleg Bentley one on it instead.

Today’s newsletter will go over this creative process, which is really the most important part, and next week’s (for paid subscribers) will be the actual recipe. Don’t get mad, it’s because I have the gist down, but I’m still tinkering with ratios to make it taste right.

So for today’s exercise in recipe development, I thought I’d go with something that’s pretty easy to make, yet is known to be a crowdpleaser: meatloaf.

After all, everyone loves a meat dish that’s shaped to resemble a loaf of bread. And in terms of ripping someone o — er, inspiration, I figured I’d go the route of least resistance and base mine off the concept of Lipton Soup’s “Souperior Meatloaf” recipe. It’s that meatloaf recipe that eschews all traditional seasoning in favor of one of Lipton’s onion soup packets, which is genius. Also, calling it a “Souperior” anything is an extreme power move.

Next was the matter of making it my own recipe by putting a personal twist on it. So I looked back at my heritage, which is something food bloggers and recipe developers often do to put their stamp on a dish. And as most of you know by now, I’m Korean-American, and there’s nothing hotter in the food world than, well, Korean food.

This is exactly why I decided to create a Jamaican and Lipton Souperior-inspired fusion meatloaf, because I am tired of constantly having to talk about being Korean. If I have to be your Korean barbecue friend so I can explain to you what the banchan is one more time, you’re paying for dinner.

(Yes, that’s regular potato salad. It has apples in it for some reason. And those strips are fish cakes.)

Time to get to recipe riffing!

Lipton’s meatloaf recipe is pretty simple; all it involves is meat, breadcrumbs, eggs, water, and soup mix. Instead of using straight beef, which is what Lipton goes with, I decided to go with a blend of beef and pork, which is what I usually use for meatloaf at home. Interspecies cooking is the best.

And for the meatloaf’s soup seasoning, I went with a Jamaican instant soup base for something called “cock soup.”

This brand of cock soup is from a company called Caribbean Dreams (another popular brand is Grace). I really love the logo of the chicken, too — the rooster’s perfectly rounded dangling wattle is a nice artistic detail. Think of this stuff sort of like a Lipton’s noodle soup packet that tastes like cock.

I can’t really imagine meatloaf without some sort of ketchupy glaze on top, but rather than a standard tomato-based one, I thought I’d get creative and go with a banana ketchup.

This one’s actually from the Philippines (don’t let the “sauce” part of the label throw you off, it’s ketchup), and it’s delicious. It does in fact taste like a sweeter tart ketchup; but it’s so good you don’t even miss the tomatoes. Because of the way it’s seasoned, that banana flavor flies beneath the radar, too. Sure, it’d be great by itself, but I wanted to add that extra Jamaican kick to it, which is why I jerked it.

I jerked the banana sauce by adding a few teaspoons of jarred spicy Jamaican jerk paste, and let me tell you, this stuff has some spirited kick to it.

I mean that in a good way, because when the heat of the jerk paste is tempered with the banana ketchup, the combination of the complex spices with sweet sauce is delicious. After I mixed the glaze together, I set it aside while I made the meatloaf portion.

The meatloaf base can’t get much easier — you just dump all the ingredients into a mixing bowl and blend it together by hand, making sure you don’t overwork it.

In this case, I went with a one-to-one ratio of ground beef to pork, though I’ve seen other recipes that include ground veal, but who can afford that kind of shit right now? Inflation sucks! Presidential candidates even argue about it! But I’m not convinced that even they know what it is.

See, you know this is going to be a good recipe when one of the eggs I used to develop it was blessed enough to be a twin.

Twin egg yolks are like the four leaf clover of the food world, after all. Once you’re in the presence of one, you’ll feel sad when the rest of your eggs are normal. Hey, it’s okay to be sad when you’re cooking sometimes.

The rest of the ingredients included breadcrumbs and milk, which act as a binder for the meatloaf when the crumbs hydrate with the liquid.

Then, finally, there was the matter of the cock soup packet, which I dumped straight into the bowl.

Cock soup is a noodle-based one, but the noodles are small enough that you shouldn't be concerned about any little crunchy bits in your final loaf, as they’ll swell and cook as it bakes. But then there was the matter of the name — if Lipton could name its meatloaf “Souperior,” I obviously had to make my own memorable version.

The answer was right in front of me on the soup packet. I’d call it “Cockloaf!” That was straightforward and described the dish perfectly without resorting to cutesy adjectives. I could see this becoming a household recipe someday, even. Hopefully it’ll even make it to a community cookbook.

I gently mixed the whole blend together, just until all of the ingredients were more or less evenly mixed into the meat.

If you play with your Cockloaf too much, by the way, it’ll get dry and tough after you bake it. See, it’s this kind of cooking expertise you read the newsletter for.

Feel free to press the meat into a bread pan, but I generally prefer my meatloaf with a well-formed crust, so I sculpt mine manually on a foil-lined baking sheet.

This allows a lot of its exterior to be exposed to the heat of the oven. Shape it however you like, but as long as it’s relatively consistent in shape so it cooks evenly, you’re good to go. I’m pretty proud with how mine turned out.

Then, before it goes in, spread the jerked banana glaze all over its surface, reserving some on the side for later.

This will cook down and create a sweet and spicy coating for your Cockloaf. You’ll be cooking this thing for about an hour at 350 degrees, so make sure your oven’s been preheating. (Again, I’ll have the specifics for the Cockloaf written for next week’s paid newsletter, so no need to take notes.)

Don’t worry if your Cockloaf has oozed stuff out while it was cooking; I’m still surprised at how often people often get freaked out by this.

That’s just protein and minerals, and you can eat that goop for your sick gains. You do want your gains to be sick, don’t you? Oh, and this is science. Just to be sure, I confirmed that it’s protein by asking my friend Kenji about it. Yes, that Kenji.

And finally, you can plate your Cockloaf however you like.

I like a good old-fashioned mashed starch, like potatoes, since that makes this a classic meat-and-potatoes combination. But if you want to stay on theme, I’d also suggest mashed plantains, which would work pretty well. You could even post that recipe on your own newsletter and tag me, but just be prepared for some really weird soul-crushing reviews from people who may or may not be space aliens.

And I’ve got to say, this Cockloaf is shaping up really well so far.

It just needs a few seasoning adjustments (I think it needs more cock, if I’m being totally honest), but the texture’s great, and that jerked banana glaze ties the whole room together. I’m excited to keep working on this thing for you, but more importantly, I’m here to whoop Lipton’s ass and snatch the Souperior crown.

Be on the lookout, clowns, because this loaf is coming and it can’t be stopped.

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Why’d so many people suddenly unsubscribe today?

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Davida and I have a lot of Cockloaf leftovers to eat, and there’s going to be more, because I’m going to continue refining the recipe in small ways (the ratios need some work) before I finalize it for paid subscribers:

That’s your call to sign up for the full version of the newsletter. You’re not just paying for new paywalled content, but your subscriptions unlock past ones too. I’m awfully close to 300 editions of the newsletter now, so just know the money you put down will unlock at least a few novel’s worth of content.

I put my whole perfectly spherical ass into this thing, anyway, so I hope you enjoy it. In any case, whether you sign up or not, happy Friday! As always, I love you all, I hope you guys have a beautiful September weekend, and I’ll see some of you exclusive few next week.