I don’t want to be all braggy or anything, but I just pulled off a casserole that our entire family actually ate. I feel like this could be a Biblical sign of the end times, as casseroles are never a dinner item that meets unanimous applause at our house. Hubs, himself, is a casserole sort of guy. If it can’t be a dead animal grilled to perfection on his dinner plate, then he’s all about the gravy train that leads to a mixture of diced chicken, cream of mushroom soup and twenty-seven pounds of grated cheese. I enjoy a good casserole, too, which is a sign of my maturity. I remember looking at my plate of supper on Casserole Night when I was a little girl, and really hoping that I could just head straight to bed, without passing GO or collecting $200, because who thinks mixing ALL THE FOOD in one bowl and baking it at 350 is a good thing? But, as the human body ages, it develops a need for cheating, reader glasses to see any print that isn’t written on a billboard, and then it develops a taste for a nice hot dish that could have come straight from the heavily-laden tables of a good Baptist potluck.
Our boys are not usually on board with casseroles at all. The boy usually pleads SICK, because he is intelligent and knows how to work his parents so that they don’t suspect anything. Sadly, his mom played enough Clue in the early ’80s to figure out what he’s up to. True to form, he came out of his bedroom when I called him to dinner tonight, looked at the 9″x13″ on the stovetop and announced, “I’m not feeling so well. I think I’m getting a stomach bug, and might just need to go to bed early.” He proceeded to take a single tablespoon of casserole on his plate, to let me know that he’d give dinner one hell of a good fight, but that he really suspected the stomach version of Influenza A.
Thing 2 looked at his plate and announced, “This looks disgusting!”
Never mind that I paired this casserole with a nice bag of steamable, mixed vegetables, which included the little cube carrots, corn and green beans. Mixed veggies is usually the death of any dinner, as far as children are concerned.
But, y’all, I am here to announce that, after Thing 2 smelled his casserole six different times, from six different angles, he tasted it and realized that, “Hey, Ma! There are Doritos in the bottom of this supper! WE HAVE CHIPS IN OUR DINNER!!!” And that was all the encouragement he needed to lick his plate clean, mixed veggies included. I’m telling you, miracles still happen.
The boy tried his tiny bite, with a little sigh, letting me know that he may be home from school tomorrow, because he really JUST!! ISN’T!! FEELING!! WELL!! And then, following in his younger brother’s footsteps, he announced, “The Doritos in this casserole are kind of awesome!”
And there you have it, folks. If you put an entire bag of crushed Doritos beneath some diced chicken, a can of cream of mushroom soup, and twenty-seven cups of grated cheese, you may not be complaint with a Whole 30 diet, but you WILL win hardened hearts for the Lord.
Now, I’m left with a kitchen that is a bit out of control and in desperate need of some loving attention tonight, but a sink full of dirty dishes and counters filled with dinner remnants that need put away are all a small price to pay for four thumbs up over our meal.
Well, immediately after dinner (after his second trip to the 9″x13″, where the boy got an ENORMOUS, HEAPING PILE of chip-infused casserole to replace the mere tablespoon he had feebly managed to choke down at first), the boy made a full recovery. He felt well enough to mix flour and cocoa and eggs and every other thing out of our pantry into a single coffee cup, which he baked in the microwave. The end result was a gooey brownie, because modern mankind has made some culinary advancements. I’m sure that the housewives of 1960 could never have envisioned a world of desserts, mixed up in a coffee mug and zapped with radiation in a General Electric microwave oven, in less than four minutes.
I know that this post has been riveting, as y’all have clung to the very edges of your seats, reading about our chip-filled casserole.
I aim to please.
In case any of you have a wild hair and are more inclined to eat a casserole filled with all the goodness of Doritos chips than a no-sugar, no-carbs version of dinner, in the form of grilled tomatoes and zucchini, let me share the recipe.
Your children will rise up and call you blessed.
Click here for Doritos Cheesy Chicken Casserole.
Y’all have a good weekend.