In the sixties we had casseroles with cream-of-something soups –tuna-noodle casserole with cream of celery, chicken and cream of mushroom, turkey tettrazini (exotic, since you add sherry instead of milk), ground beef and noodle with cream of tomato. Fast. Easy. Yummy.
Casseroles are comfort food. They’re stress reducers because they’re easy to make and they feel like love-in-a-bowl. Moms make casseroles. Moms love us. A nice culinary equation.
The canned retro thing still works, though it only takes five minutes more to make cream-of-something soup from scratch, which eliminates the extra sodium and preservatives in most canned soups. Sautee some chopped veg – mushrooms, or diced celery and onion — in about 3 oz. butter. Add 3 oz. flour for a roux, cook for a minute or two, whisk in about 3/4 cup of milk and ¾ cup of stock or bullion until smooth. That’s it. But hey, if you’re into canned soup, have at it.
Every cuisine has a favorite casserole and thanks to the vegetable stew of cultures we have here in the US, we get to dip into all of them. Moussaka (Greek), Mexican casserole with shredded chicken, beans, corn and salsa (epicurious.com), Alsatian choucroute garni (saurkraut and sausage with onions and apples, a great thing to make on Sunday and have later in the week), oyster casserole, (a local Chesapeake Bay/Land of Pleasant Living treat which takes about fifteen minutes to put together).
One of our personal favorites is a WASPish ham casserole. Mix together about 2 cups of cooked cubed potatoes, 1½ cups of diced ham, and a cup of cubed cheddar in a casserole dish. Wrap it in homemade cream of celery soup and bake until bubbly. We serve it with something green to mitigate the guilt.
Cassoulet (of COURSE, it’s French) is a versatile meat-and-bean casserole perfect for Sunday cooking or a weekday crockpot now called a slow cooker. It’s also fairly inexpensive. Originally, French cooks used potted goose or duck, pork and sausage. I use browned lamb shanks. Once browned, I put them in a casserole with either canned or quick-soaked navy beans, red wine, garlic, onions, thyme, parsley, a quart jar of tomatoes, (I can my own, which makes me feel unbearably virtuous), maybe a juniper berry or two, a beef bullion cube, salt and pepper. Crockpot it, slow simmer it (3 hours or so) on the stove or stick it in the oven at 300 for several hours. Check periodically to be sure it’s not drying out. It’s done when the beans are soft and the meat is falling off the bone. Serve with warm bread and red wine. Mmmm. Comforting.
One super-easy week-night casserole is cauliflower gratin.
CAULIFLOWER GRATIN
1 head cauliflower
4 ounces butter
3 tblsp flour
1 cup milk
1 1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan (the real deal — parmesano reggiano makes all the difference in this recipe)
1/2 tsp nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
In a pot large enough to hold the entire head of cauliflower, put enough water to reach halfway up the cauliflower. Bring to a boil and cook until just tender (stick a knife into the center and if it resists just a little, it’s ready). Take it out and save the boiling water for use in the bechamel (white sauce) you’re going to make to cover it. While the cauli is cooking, in another pot, melt butter and add the flour to make a roux. Stir until cooked slightly (the edges of the flour will change shading from buttery/liquidy to half-cooked looking) and add the milk, whisking to make a smooth white sauce. Add seasonings. Whisk in 1/3 cup of the grated parmesan. Add enough cauliflower cooking water to make a smooth sauce about the consistency of thick cream of something soup. Break the cauliflower into chunks in a gratin dish, a casserole or a pyrex dish. Pour the sauce over all of it and then sprinkle the rest of the grated cheese generously overtop. Run under the broiler until the cheese is browned and bubbly — watch it because it happens in no time flat. I make this dish on fall and winter evenings when I get in late and want supper quickly. It all takes about 15 minutes start to finish once you get the hang of it and no longer have to read the recipe.
Nancy Taylor Robson 