Valentine's Day is next week and I am single and unbothered, which is what I tell people, and I am single and slightly bothered, which is the truth. Not because I want a boyfriend specifically — I want the IDEA of a boyfriend, which is different. The idea of someone who texts you good morning and takes you to dinner and holds your hand in public. The actual execution of having a boyfriend seems like a lot of work and I already have Public Speaking homework.
Dana has a boyfriend — a quiet engineering student named Marcus who she describes as 'fine' in a way that makes me think Grant-the-Wallpaper is a family trait in all relationships, not just Megan's. I told Dana about Mom's wallpaper assessment and she laughed so hard she spilled her terrible student union coffee.
Mom made heart-shaped meatloaf for Valentine's Day dinner, which she's done every year since Megan and I were little. She uses a regular meatloaf recipe but shapes it into a heart on the sheet pan and tops it with ketchup-brown sugar glaze. Dad receives this with the same sincerity he receives everything Mom does — he eats two slices and says 'Happy Valentine's Day, Donna' and she says 'Eat your meatloaf, Kevin' and this is romance in the Abernathy house.
They don't do fancy Valentine's stuff. No roses, no reservations, no jewelry. But Dad bought Mom a card that he wrote in himself — not a Hallmark card with someone else's words, but a blank card where he wrote his own — and I know this because I found the rough drafts in the trash can. Three attempts. Kevin Abernathy, combat veteran, wrote three drafts of a Valentine's card because he wanted to get the words right.
I didn't read them. They're not for me. But the fact that they exist — that this man who says 'be safe' instead of 'I love you' and communicates through eggs and gardening sat down and WROTE WORDS — tells me more about love than any rom-com ever will.
Love isn't fireworks (literally or figuratively, in Dad's case). Love is three drafts of a Valentine's card. Love is heart-shaped meatloaf. Love is thirty years of dinner at 1800 and saying 'eat your meatloaf, Kevin' instead of 'I love you too' because you both know what it means.
I want that. Not the meatloaf specifically (though the meatloaf is excellent). The underneath part. The three-drafts part. The part where someone tries that hard for you.
Single and slightly bothered. But also: surrounded by the best love I've ever seen, served on a plate, at 1800, every night.
I can wait.
So this week, I made my dad’s meatloaf — the actual one, the heart-shaped Valentine’s one, the one that means I love you in our family’s particular dialect of food-as-feeling. It felt right: if I can’t have the three-drafts kind of love yet, I can at least have the meatloaf. His version uses a stuffing mix in place of breadcrumbs, which sounds like a shortcut but is actually the whole secret — it keeps everything moist and gives it that savory, herb-forward depth that makes people ask what’s in it. Here’s how to make it.
Turkey Stuffing Meatloaf
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs ground turkey
- 1 box (6 oz) seasoned stuffing mix (such as Stove Top), crushed slightly
- 2 eggs, lightly beaten
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1/2 cup chicken broth
- 1/2 cup finely diced onion
- 1/2 cup finely diced celery
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- For the glaze:
- 1/2 cup ketchup
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and lightly coat with cooking spray. (A baking sheet gives you full control over shaping — essential for the heart.)
- Soften the vegetables. In a small skillet over medium heat, cook the onion and celery in a drizzle of oil for about 5 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.
- Mix the loaf. In a large bowl, combine the ground turkey, crushed stuffing mix, eggs, milk, chicken broth, cooked vegetables, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper. Mix until just combined — do not overwork or the loaf will be dense.
- Shape it. Turn the mixture out onto the prepared baking sheet. Shape into a heart roughly 1 1/2 inches thick: form two rounded lobes at the top and bring the sides to a point at the bottom. Smooth the surface with damp hands.
- Make the glaze. Whisk together the ketchup, brown sugar, and apple cider vinegar in a small bowl until the sugar dissolves.
- Glaze and bake. Spread half the glaze evenly over the top and sides of the loaf. Bake for 45 minutes, then spread the remaining glaze over the top. Return to the oven for 15 more minutes, until the internal temperature reaches 165°F and the glaze is caramelized and sticky.
- Rest before slicing. Let the meatloaf rest on the pan for 10 minutes before slicing. This keeps it from falling apart and gives everyone time to sit down at 1800.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 680mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 46 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
