Meatloaf in cupcake form?

The concept of the month-old Meatloaf Bakery, the brainchild of Cynthia Kallile, who spent 25 years in corporate America, is certainly novel: It serves cupcakes, but with various kinds of meat (beef, pork, veal, sometimes all three) subbing in for the cake, and toppings like aged parmesan cheese and sun-dried tomatoes instead of frosting, thus yielding infinite dinnerly combinations. But The A.V. Club couldn't help but wonder if the shop's hopeful mini-meatloaf "craze"—it also offers tiny loafettes, called "loafies," in flights—is nothing more than a fleeting novelty. And there's only one way to find out: Stuffing our faces with odd-shaped meats.

The Mac 'N Barb
This is one of the "daily surprises" that may or may not be on the menu each visit. It's beef topped with pasta shells and a mix of four cheeses.
Taste: Savory and juicy, with the slightest hint of carrots (ground-up bits). The texture is melt-in-the-mouth heavenly, and gooey cheese (after zapping in the microwave for a few minutes) only helps the cause. The supplied barbecue sauce, though, lacks punch.
Comfort food factor: High. Two great childhood tastes that taste great together, previously only recreated in the Old Country Buffet line.
Gimmick or legitimate culinary art?: Master's thesis. The design is eye-catching, and the subtle mix of spices—with a hint of olive oil—lingers on the tongue long after eating.

Yentl Lentl
Lentils and brown rice smooshed together make up the base of this vegetarian friendly option, and roasted bell peppers top it off.
Taste: If only there were any. Other than an odd grease flavor, this "loaf" was overwhelmingly bland. And forget texture: The lentils spilled out after the first forkful, making it difficult to spear even a decent bite. The peppers on top were roasted, yes, but probably too long ago to retain anything other than sogginess—like day-old stir-fry.
Comfort food factor: The name at least conjures images of bubbie's soup.
Gimmick or legitimate culinary art?: Kudos for throwing non-meat eaters a bone (so to speak), but this gimmick needs some pop. Or salt.

Omega-3
Alaskan salmon is mixed with lemon, parsley, and dill, then finished off with whipped wasabi mashed potatoes. 
Taste: Seriously, easy on the dill, fellas—these puppies overpowered us with the taste of dill and pickles (well, the dill part). As for the rest, the loaf is dry and can't hold its own to the canned stuff, flavor-wise. One The A.V. Club colleague put it thusly: "At least with the canned stuff, you have the surprise of bones." 
Comfort food factor: Doesn't beat out the warm, crumbly salmon patties of healthy moms past. 
Gimmick or legitimate culinary art?: It looks good enough to eat (the mashed potatoes are the most frosting-like of the bunch), but the only feasting that should be done is with the eyes. 

A Wing And A Prayer
Chicken, wing sauce, blue cheese, and crushed-up celery make up the loaf, with a thin blue-cheese crust on top.
Taste: Wingy—in the best way possible. Not surprisingly, blue cheese dominates the nose, but balances the zip of the slow-burn sauce nicely. The cake even holds up its consistency after repeat bites. The chicken itself, sadly, leaves a bit to the imagination.
Comfort food factor: Low, but who grew up on a steady diet of hot wings? (Lucky.)
Gimmick or legitimate culinary art?: Not the masterpiece that was the Mac 'N Barb, but still inventive and immensely chowable.

Final verdict: A random sampling yielded a 50/50 spread between hate and great, gimmick and gimme. But the goods were really good; given more solid contenders, it won't be long before the phrase, "Where my loafies at?" catches on.