ruth cooks |
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Miss Marigold and the Casserole Controversy “Aren’t these just a treasure, though! Wish my family would get a clue and give me a gift like this instead of those ole cardigans and slippers. A body’d think I’m getting old,” said Miss Marigold We sat on her back porch, enjoying one of the last days of summer and looking over the stack of cooking booklets I’d just brought over. My daughter and son-in-law found them at the flea market in the summer of 2002 and gave them to me last Christmas: a set of 45-65 page recipe pamphlets printed by the Culinary Arts Institute in Chicago during the 1940s and 50s. Thirty-one in all, they covered such topics as Breakfast, Creole Cooking, Dishes Children Love, and 500 Delightful Dishes from Leftovers. “Here, take a look at this one on Casserole Cookery and tell me what you think,” I requested, as if it were ever necessary to ask Miss Marigold to express her opinion. I’d just finished looking through this one the day before and found most of the recipes blah and uninspiring, like white-sauce-plus-a-vegetable, or the nightmare version, white-sauce-plus-mixed vegetables-plus bologna cubes, baked in a piecrust. The best recipes seemed to be in the section on Desserts, including an intriguing one for Hazelnut Soufflé with a Custard Caramel Sauce, but desserts aren’t considered casseroles in today’s vernacular. “Now, here’s a tasty little selection,” said Miss Marigold. “Sweetbreads and Dried Beef, Tongue and Greens, and Heart with Apple-Raisin Stuffing.” They should call this section ‘offal casseroles’ but spell it “a-w-f-u-l.’ This Savory Oysters has possibilities, seems to be a sort of scalloped oysters with mushrooms, green pepper, garlic and spices. “The Italian recipes are a joke, as most of them were in the 50’s,” she continued, pointing to a chicken dish that looked vaguely cacciatore-like. “All you had to do was add a can of tomatoes and presto! instant Italian. Most of this stuff is just ordinary: franks and beans, mac and cheese, chicken and noodles. Solid recipes, but not what you’d ever call creative, would you?” “I thought it was pretty creative to include a whole cup of peanuts in the stuffed peppers,” I said, “Maybe they were worried about getting their protein. Sounds terrible, especially with that can of tomato soup dumped on the top for a sauce.” At this point, Marigold jumped out of her chair and ran into the house, banging the screen door behind her. Miss M. is often reactive and impulsive, but canned soup in a casserole surely didn’t merit that response. I sat there puzzling until she dashed back out onto the porch waving something at me. “Sorry, dearie, I didn’t mean to be so abrupt,” she
panted, “but that soup comment reminded me of this abomination.
The other day in the supermarket I had a weak moment and picked up one
of those recipe books you find at the checkout counter. “These always look so tempting,” I said, “Full of pretty pictures.” “Pretty pictures is about all they have to recommend them,” huffed Miss M. “This book is nothing but a big commercial for the conglomerate’s products. There are only THREE recipes in the entire book that don’t include either brand names or convenience foods. Just for fun, I counted. In round numbers, there are 35-40 generic convenience foods used, and another 10 mentioned by brand name. There are 20 other mentions of brand names that are not convenience foods. All that in 41 recipes. “In short, I paid $3.99 to read commercials and recipes which would cost me more to make, taste disgustingly like preservatives and stuff me with trans fats and sugars. And I don’t think those products are all that convenient, anyway.” (Sometimes it seems appropriate that Miss M. shout “Bah! Humbug!” after every pronouncement. “What really frosts me,” she continued, lapsing into a little last century slang, “is that I can’t trust these people. For example, take this Roasted Vegetables with Spicy Aioli Dip. Now you know and I know that Aioli is a classic from Provence…strongly flavored garlic mayonnaise—homemade mayonnaise with lots of fresh garlic. It’s not their nasty mixture of commercial mayo, sour cream, and garlic ranch dressing. About the only thing these two have in common is that they’re WHITE. If these people don’t know what aioli is, how can I trust them to know anything?” “You’re right about that, Miss M., I never trust anyone’s opinion about food until I learn what they think tastes good. It never fails to surprise me what some otherwise savvy people will put in their mouths. But back to casseroles,” I said, attempting to put the conversation back onto a less incendiary track, “I think I’ll make one for tonight’s dinner.” “Me, too,” she laughed. “I guess these books are good
for something after all, even if it’s only inspiration. I think
I’ll make that Manhattan Casserole I got back in the 70s and I’d
better get to it. Do bring these delightful booklets back some day when
we have a little more time to go over them.” A variation of this recipe was given to me by a friend, Barbara Zimmerman, in Louisville years ago, and it’s still one of my favorite things to make with a pound of ground beef. My daughter adds black and green olives and eliminates the onion and pepper, which her family doesn’t like, but which I think make the dish special. They stay uncooked and crunchy suspended in the dairy mixture. Add a green salad and perhaps some bread and dinner’s a done deal. 1 lb. lean ground beef 1 8-oz. package cream cheese, softened 8 ounces medium egg noodles, slightly undercooked In a large skillet over medium high heat, season and brown the ground beef. Sometimes I chop extra onion and add to the beef while cooking. Add tomato sauce and about a can of water and let simmer over low heat while you prepare the dairy mixture. Combine cream cheese, cottage cheese and sour cream in a food processor or mixer until smooth. Stir in onions and green pepper. Spray a 9” x 13” casserole with vegetable spray. Spoon about a quarter of the meat sauce in the bottom of the pan. Layer with all of the noodles, all of the dairy mixture and the rest of the meat sauce. Cover with foil and bake about 45 minutes, or until bubbly, at 350 degrees. Let sit a few minutes before serving to firm up a little.
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