I don't make many casseroles. When I do, all the ingredients come together and taste like mush. All of the original ingredients seem to get lost in this mush. But, I haven't made too many so I was willing to try again.
When you Google quick and easy casseroles, 99% of them contain cream of chicken or mushroom soup. Up until last night, I had never tried these sort of soups. I blame this on my mother. If I had grown up on these delectable condensed life savors, maybe they would be a staple in my home. I had found a chicken and broccoli casserole recipe that contained both flavors of these soups and had a five star rating. The recipe said that it would take me ten minutes to make the casserole and thirty minutes in the oven. Yes! Easy and good, my kind of meal. I got to the part where I was to open and dump the cans of soup in the mixture. The soup looked like a huge pile of snot, both in consistency and appearance. When I turned the cans upside down, the soup didn't pour out, it came out in one piece of congealed looking mucus. Sorry, but I was a bit grossed out at this point. I decided to look at the ingredients. Bad idea. Fifty four ingredients! Do you want for me to name a few? Mono sodium Glutamate, hydrolyzed soy, corn and wheat proteins, tortula yeast, thiamine hydrochloride, gum arabic, disodium guanylate, oleoresin carrot Do I need to go on? On the front of the can, it clearly states, low cholesterol and 98% fat free. That makes me feel a lot better....
Even after this, I ventured on with the casserole. It was hard not to gag as I took the big wooden spoon and mixed in the soups with the chicken, broccoli and stuffing.(Yes, the recipe called for a bag of cornbread stuffing) When the family sat down for dinner, George dove right in. He would eat ground up roaches and rat tails, if I put it in front of him. Sophia, who is usually much like her daddy in her eating habits, took one bite and spit it out. Samuel tried a bite, looked at me and said, "Do I have to?" Gabrielle had eaten earlier. I knew she would have nothing to do with the casserole. I had a few bites but it just wasn't worth it. When George finished, he told me, "Thanks, that was delicious!" My Neanderthal husband.
Part of me feels like a snob. People use these soups all the time. I have nothing against these people, really I don't. But I feel like I'm missing something. I know I didn't grow up in this country and I did grow up with a food snob as a mother. Is this why? Will I ever like a casserole? Can I be an American and not like casseroles?