Recipe by my Aunt Jean (I told you that I was related to most of the women in this book, didn’t I?)

My childhood holidays were spent with this side of the family, but I don’t ever remember seeing this dish offered. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, though. What I do remember was Grandpa’s spaghetti (stay tuned), Gramma’s rolls (a family secret not even I ‘ve had the privilege of knowing), and the oyster dip she made especially for one of my cousins. I never ate it, and I hate myself for it now.

My first thought when seeing this recipe was, “why in the hell does it need cream of mushroom and celery soup?” The real question is, I guess: do these two soups really taste different? These are not things we keep in the pantry since it’s not 1982 anymore, so Cyrus and I headed off to the store in search of the “cream of” section.

I had to grab a few more things, including “taco sauce.” I don’t think I’ve ever used this in my life. We found it close to the salsas and hard taco shells in boxes. If you’re wondering, it’s not salsa; it’s just a smooth, red sauce. I’m not sure salsa would work because I think it’d be too runny, but I’m curious to know if any of you try it.

Aunt Jean’s recipe called for 4 ounces of green chiles, which I assume means canned (those are usually found by the taco sauce and hard shells, too). Instead of buying that, I grabbed a few poblano peppers growing in our garden. I had 4 very small corn tortillas in a package, and I thought that was going to get the job done, but I was super wrong. Luckily, I had several more packages. And, while cooking the meat I added salt, pepper, garlic powder, and maybe two ounces of the taco sauce; the beef just looked like it was going to be too bland. Jean’s instructions said to use a “package of cheese,” so I bought an 8 ounce package, but had another 2 ounces already shredded from another meal that I threw in. Seeing how the recipe was supposed to take 1 hour and 20 minutes of cook time (and my family’s penchant for overcooking everything), I decided that was probably way too much and cut it in half. 

_________________________________________________________________

Most of you might know me personally and know that my partner is a trained chef who works as a chef. Throughout the years, I’ve heard a lot of people ask, “What’s it like to be with a chef!? Is she always cooking gourmet meals for you!?” And, when I say, “not always” people are pretty disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, Gaby cooks often, and it’s always amazing; her food projects benefit me, too. (Recently, she’s been making sourdough from a starter that she created!). So, am I spoiled? Yes, of course. But one of the first things Gaby told me when we stated dating was that what she loved more than anything was when someone cooked for her. Of course, I was intimidated when it all started because how was I (the one who overcooked the ramen and didn’t know garlic was a plant) supposed to cook for a real-life, actual CHEF!? Most of you probably assume that Chef Gaby has very discerning tastes when it comes to food, and that is true. It is also true that one of her favorite foods is a Venezuelan style hot dog topped with onion, potato straws, sauerkraut, mustard, and mayonnaise.

Over the years she’s taught me knife skills, salting techniques, and to calm the fuck down and trust my instincts. She’s also shown me that most foods can be enjoyed if they’re made with care and intention.

_________________________________________________________________

So, I had messaged Gaby earlier in the evening to tell her that I was making a casserole for dinner, and I could hear her groan through texts. She had been flipping through the cookbook, too, and we both commented on the amount of casseroles and condensed soups.

When she arrived home, Cyrus and I were already shoveling it in. Gaby made a disgusted face at it and, after a long day, resigned herself to eating some. I knew she would love it or hate it; there would be no in-between.

Cyrus had already proclaimed their love for this dish, and even though I wanted to dislike it, I, too, was enjoying every bite in spite of myself. We both watched Gaby take her first bite. Her face contorted. “Oh. My. God.” The three of us ate at least half of the pan, and I’m pretty sure Gaby even had some for breakfast the next morning.

When I asked her about telling the story of her loving this casserole, she agreed. And then I asked her if she’d like to rate all of the dishes I make. We discussed presentation, taste, quality, etc. But I think we ended up on a new rating scale; each dish will be assigned a number: 0-Mexican Casserole.

_________________________________________________________________

This meal costs less than 15 dollars and you’ll have some milk, tortillas, and a bit of taco sauce left to use in another dish.

Mexican Casserole:

yields 8 servings

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 pound of hamburger

1 cup whole milk

1 medium yellow onion, diced

3 medium poblano peppers, diced (or a 4 oz can of green chiles)

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

6 ounces taco sauce

8-10 ounces of shredded sharp cheddar cheese

At least 10 soft taco size corn tortillas

Directions:

Brown the meat on high for about 5 minutes, adding the salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Add about two ounces of the taco sauce with the onion and poblanos/green chiles and cook another 5 or until the sauce is really soaked into the meat. Add the mushroom soup, chicken soup, milk, and the rest of the taco sauce and simmer for about 10 minutes. This is the “soupy mixture.” Don’t be scared at its soupy-ness.

Put a small amount of this mixture on the bottom of a baking dish, then layer with pieces of the tortillas to cover most of the surface, a layer of cheese, and another layer of the mixture. Repeat until you’ve run out. The top layer should be tortillas with cheese on top.

Bake at 350 for about 30 minutes. Let it cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn the taste buds right out of your mouth. Serve with rice, salad, beans, or nothing, but definitely add some sour cream to cut the scorching cheese. Aunt Jean said she likes to dip Fritos into it, too. You could totally add beans and corn to this if you wanted.

Stay tuned for next week’s adventure: Beef and Potato Hash!

EPILOGUE

A few days after making this, we saw my Aunt Jean at a family get together. I told the table full of women whose recipes are in this book about my intent to do this project, and said, “Jean, I made one of your meals.” With no hesitation she said, “Mexican Casserole.” She told me some friends in New Mexico first made it for her, and I surmised that maybe they used hatch chiles. She told me, you know, when she was watching them cook it and saw the “soupy mixture” she was pretty put-off, but damn if it wasn’t good anyway. Gaby again proclaimed how much she enjoyed it. Jean wasn’t a bit surprised. This led the table to all talk about the cookbook, of which most of them were some how a part, and I can’t wait to feature them and their recipes here as we go along.