Name: The Best Meatloaf Recipe
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 1 h
Total time: 1 h 15 min
Yield: 6 servings
Cuisine: American
Ingredients: 2 lbs ground beef; 1 cup breadcrumbs; 1/2 cup milk; 2 large eggs; 1 small onion, finely chopped; 2 cloves garlic, minced; 1/3 cup ketchup, divided; 2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce; 1 tsp salt; 1/2 tsp black pepper

Alright, settle in because if you’re looking for The Best Meatloaf Recipe, or maybe just a meatloaf that won’t get you silent stares across the dinner table, I think you’ll like this one. My grandma used to say that no one ever asked for seconds of her meatloaf, but ever since I fiddled with her old recipe and made a few (okay, several) kitchen disasters along the way, my family actually requests meatloaf night now. Not kidding—I’ve even resorted to hiding the leftovers for a next-day sandwich, or else they vanish. Anyway, if you like no-nonsense, home-cooked stuff, grab a cup of tea or whatever, and let’s get into it.

Why this is the meatloaf I keep coming back to

I make this meatloaf when the weather’s gone a bit grim, or when I realise (oops) that I forgot to defrost any fancy meats. My family goes a bit wild for it—don’t ask me why, but apparently the hint of ketchup mixed with Worcestershire hits the nostalgic spot for them. Maybe that’s the key? I used to struggle with meatloaf coming out dry (I’ve committed some truly sad bricks of beef), but this one solves it. Actually, the secret is in the soggy breadcrumbs, but I’ll get to that. If you hate chopping onions (who doesn’t?)—good news: you can be lazy with it. And if you’re the type to sneak a taste pre-bake, join the club. I definitely don’t judge.

What goes in (and what you can swap, trust me)

500g ground beef (I sometimes use a 50/50 split of beef and pork if I’m feeling flush, or just whatever was on special at the shop)
1 onion, finely chopped (or half if you’re not a fan, or—between you and me—onion powder in a pinch works, maybe a tablespoon)
2 cloves garlic, minced (I use jarred when I’m in a hurry; my grandmother would’ve had a fit but honestly…)
1 cup soft breadcrumbs (got stale bread? Perfect. Panko sometimes, if that’s all I find in the cupboard)
1/2 cup milk (or water, or even a splash of cream if you’re feeling posh; my cousin does, and she’s fancy like that)
1 large egg
2 tablespoons ketchup (or BBQ sauce when I’m out—it’s all delicious, just different vibes)
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (sometimes soy sauce if I’m desperate—subtle difference, not a dealbreaker)
1 teaspoon dried thyme (if you happen to have fresh, toss in a pinch—makes you feel like you’re on a cooking show)
1/2 teaspoon salt (I never measure, but you probably should)
1/2 teaspoon pepper
For topping: More ketchup, or if you want to make it look real fancy, mix ketchup with a spoonful of brown sugar and a dash of mustard

How I actually make it (with a few detours)

Preheat your oven to about 180°C (that’s 350°F if you work in ‘F’, or as my uncle says, ‘moderate oven’—which is annoyingly vague).
In a big mixing bowl, chuck in the breadcrumbs and pour the milk over them. Let them soak for a couple of minutes—this is where I putter around the kitchen, trying not to eat any cheese cubes meant for later.
Add in the beef, chopped onions, garlic, egg, ketchup, Worcestershire, thyme, salt, and pepper. Roll up your sleeves and get your hands in there, unless you can’t stand the texture—in which case, use a fork, but trust me, hands mix better.
Mush everything together so it’s all just barely mixed. Don’t overdo it or you’ll end up with tough meatloaf. This is where I usually second-guess myself if it looks a bit mushy—it’s fine, trust the process.
Plop the mixture onto a parchment-lined tray or into a loaf tin (I sometimes freeform it right on a baking sheet, like a rustic meat log—fewer dishes).
Slather the top with a good layer of ketchup (or your jazzed-up glaze). It’ll look messy, don’t sweat it.
Bake for about 55 minutes to an hour. Check it at 45 if your oven runs hot—I’ve learned the hard way that dry meatloaf makes for awkwardly long chewing.
Rest for 10 minutes before slicing. Or just hack into it. I’m not the food police.

Stuff I Learned (sometimes the hard way)

If you use lean meat, add a smidge of oil or extra breadcrumbs soaked in milk—otherwise it gets too dry.
Once I used entirely dried herbs and forgot the thyme, the result was…bland. Don’t skip it if you can help it.
Leftover meatloaf tastes brilliant cold (with pickles and good bread!).
If you’re out of eggs—try it anyway. It’s just a bit crumblier.

Experiments (and failures… for science!)

I’ve thrown in grated carrot or even courgette to sneak veggies past my kids. Worked a charm, mostly.
One time I tried crushed cornflakes for breadcrumbs—honestly, wouldn’t go there again. It got weirdly sweet.
Bacon strips on top? Yes, please. My brother-in-law swears by it. Messy but, wow.
I swapped ketchup with sriracha once. Did NOT go down well with the spice-averse—lesson learned.

On the subject of tools (no fancy gadgets required)

If you have a loaf tin, brilliant. Otherwise, I just mound it up on a tray and shape it by hand—works fine, might even get you rustic points. I once used a pie dish; don’t recommend, but it technically worked. For chopping, a food processor saves you time but, eh, so does a sharp knife and a bit of patience (or questionable knife skills).

Keeping leftovers—if any

Wrap leftover slices in foil or pop them in a container in the fridge. They’ll keep for two or three days…but honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day. If you want to freeze: slice first, layer with parchment in a bag, and you’re good for a month or so. Oh, meatloaf sandwiches from frozen? Brilliant—just zap in the microwave or plop directly onto the grill pan.

What do I serve it with? The eternal question

I’m a mashed potato person (if you want a genuinely fluffy mash, check out this method; it’s magic). Sometimes peas, sometimes buttery corn—the stuff you shove to one side when you’re a kid, but it grows on you. Once a year, my sister makes a cranberry sauce that’s way too posh but somehow, it works. Gravy or brown sauce if it’s around. Oh, and you have to try meatloaf with sour cream mashed potatoes—trust me.

Some lessons I learned from (mildly embarrassing) mistakes

I once tried to slice it right out of the oven. Trust me, it fell apart like a sandcastle—wait the ten minutes.
Don’t eyeball the salt if you’re not used to it. The difference between seasoned and sodium overkill is just a careless shake (I once made ‘saltloaf’ and never lived it down).
Don’t skip the breadcrumbs. One time I tried to go low-carb and… nope. Didn’t hold together, just sad beef crumble.

Questions I’ve actually gotten… and my honest answers

“Can I use turkey or chicken instead of beef?” Absolutely, though it’ll be drier. Just up the wet stuff—maybe another egg or more milk. But beef is still my fave, not gonna lie.

“Why does my meatloaf fall apart?” Usually not enough binding—so more egg, breadcrumbs, or just take it easy when mixing. Also, if you try to slice it hot it’s a lost cause (been there).

“Can I make this ahead?” Oh for sure, I think it tastes better the next day anyway. Sometimes I prep the mix and bake it off after work.

“Is it supposed to look that…unattractive?” Ha! Yup. Pre-bake, it’s just a greyish mound. Post-bake, golden edges and ketchup glaze—much better.

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve added?” Pickled jalapeños. Surprisingly not terrible—and yes, I’d do it again if I remembered to buy them.

Hope this helped (or at least entertained you for a minute). Honestly, if you make it and it comes out lumpy or wonky, welcome to the club—I swear the ugly ones taste the best. And if you want a classic American version for comparison, check out this recipe from Simply Recipes. Happy cooking and may your meatloaf be moister than my first attempt!