By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

Is there such a thing as Jewish meatloaf? My first reaction to that question would have been no, at least until I had a discussion with Reporter Executive Editor Diana Sochor. She forwarded me a link to an article on The Nosher website about meatloaf, saying that her non-Jewish grandmother, who had a number of Jewish friends, used to make it. I’d seen the article, but hadn’t given much thought to it. However, her comment made me look at the article again and I noticed something that made me reflect on my childhood.
It’s probably be more 50 years since I’ve had meatloaf, except for vegetarian versions. My mother also used to make the one featured in the article, which is different from other meatloaves because encased in the meat was a hard-boiled egg. Actually, my mother used to make two loaves: one with the hard-boiled egg and one without because I refused to eat the one with the egg. Why? I have no idea. I don’t remember ever tasting it and saying I didn’t like it. I just wouldn’t eat it.
To be fair, I wasn’t that fond of meatloaf in general. That is, until I went to college and discovered non-Jewish meatloaf. The University of Pennsylvania dining service was closed on weekends so we were responsible for our own meals. A friend and I would walk to 30th Street Station (the train station about five large blocks away from our dorm) and have lunch at the drugstore counter. I don’t remember what she had, but I fell in love with the non-Jewish meatloaf that came with mashed potatoes and mushy peas. (Yes, as a college student I also loved mushy peas.) Not a lot of students went that far off campus for lunch or dinner, but we both loved to walk so that was an added benefit. (I would also accompany her when she wanted to visit the candy store in the station to buy the white and pink chocolate that she loved.)
By my last year of college, I was on the first of my medically restricted diets and ground beef disappeared from my diet. (It’s not that I won’t eat beef, but I won’t cook it and rarely eat it elsewhere.) What made this so interesting for Diana, though, is that she has a vague memory of eating this meatloaf once at her grandparents’ home. However, memory can be funny: When she asked her parents and brother about this, they had no memory of the meal. Her father does remember the meatloaf his mother made as being really good, so perhaps that’s what made her think she’s eaten it. Kind of funny if you think about it: the non-Jew was excited to read about the Jewish meatloaf the Jewish person could live without. Then again, who knows? Maybe I would actually like it now, that is if someone else was willing to make it for me.