It has been some time since we meandered through Memory Kitchen, largely because this is NOT a food blog. But casseroles came up in an online chat, and this threw my mind back into the Iowa kitchen of my boy days.
And I must break your heart at the outset. We never ate casseroles, at least nothing WE caked casseroles. It is amazing how anyone who grew up in Casserole Central can have eluded them. I have mentioned a cousin of mine who, having grown up in Miami, was amazed on visiting one of her mother’s high school reunions, at the variety of casseroles, congealed salads, and bars. (I tried to explain about sheet cakes, but I know my limitations.)
I think I understand where we took a left turn at Dubuque, but we can discuss this as we got through a list of the casseroles of my youth.
Creamed Tuna and Peas on Toast: I have never seen this entrée. My mother used it as a threat. SHE regarded it as comfort food, but my father, who did not eat tuna OR peas, would not have allowed such a thing to happen.
Tuna and Noodle Casserole: This, however, was unavoidable, and was offered to us every other Friday during hot lunch. Tuna is something you either accept or loathe, and I thought the stuff was pretty good. (My memory may or may not be affected by the amount of salt I threw on just about everything). During a period of American history when canned tuna was inexpensive, I tried to duplicate this by cooking noodles and adding a can of tuna and a can of Midwestern Balm (Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup.) It never had the same cachet, and I believe now it was because I was always too hungry (as well as lazy) to pour this into a casserole and bake it. The baking seems to work its magic on the noodles, turning them into a substance known only to food scientists and midwestern buffets.
Hamburger Macaroni: This is the original, a dish my mother served up from my earliest days on solid food (to judge by the pictures of me where I have smeared it all over my face.) This is ground beef browned in a pan, drained, and then garnished by the addition of cooked macaroni and tomato paste. Let others call it Goulash; let others call it Pasta. This was hamburger macaroni easily the first dish I dismayed my parents by utterly refusing to eat once the fun of spreading it on myself was played out.
Hamburger and Noodles: No, come back. This is an entirely different entrée. THIS is ground beef browned and drained and then garnished with cooked NOODLES instead of elbow macaroni, and Cream of Mushroom Soup instead of tomato paste. And not cooked in the oven before serving. (Note also a complete lack of crushed cornflakes or potato chips on these entrees. I don’t remember anyone doing this in my day, but I was not allowed out to eat at other people’s houses. My hamburger macaroni reputation preceded me.)
Beef and Noodles: Now this was a step up. IF you have roasted your cut of beef in a can of C of M plus a can of water, and have covered it carefully so the sauce does not cook dry, you have an excellent gravy for warming diced leftover beef (and adding noodles.)
Maidrites: I am not getting into this ancient debate, but one of the three recipes I know for this dish—the least traditional—involves taking the hamburger and noodles recipe and instead of adding noodles, scooping the result onto a bun and eating it as a sandwich. Very filling, but NOT a maidrite. Trust no one who offers you this and calls it by the wrong name.
You will note several similarities among these dishes. They involve cooking something in a frying pan and then adding some kind of pasta and, except for Hamburger Macaroni, large amounts of C of M. And, at out house, these were never rebaked in the oven, which meant I grew up accustomed to noodles and elbows al dente.
For which I think the world should be grateful. If I had been brought up on “Add cream of mushroom soup and then stick it in the oven”, what manner of casserole would have resulted the time my mother brought home a pound of liver and said “Here, cook this.”
Blogsy Babbles 