Obviously your opinion may be different, and in the spirit of the holidays I will not give my standard answer in such cases: "People may disagree with me. These people are wrong."
And people do disagree. Years ago I worked at a magazine that published a lot of recipes, which is how I learned a lot about proper format for cookbook text. Around Thanksgiving I mentioned this gooey, gluey insult to a great vegetable, and both full-time chefs who worked there said how much they LOVED the classic GBC. "It's so salty and crunchy and AWWWESOME!" was the consensus. I was stunned.
The Pilgrims did not have green bean casserole, nor was this some Olde Englishe Qulinarie Dishe. Wikipedia says we have Campbell's Soup to thank for this abomination, and only 63 years ago:
The green bean casserole was first created in 1955 by the Campbell Soup Company. Dorcas Reilly led the team that created the recipe while working as a staff member in the home economics department. The inspiration for the dish was "to create a quick and easy recipe around two things most Americans always had on hand in the 1950s: green beans and Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup." It initially did not test well within the company but, in part because of Reilly's persistence, eventually earned a reputation for being "the ultimate comfort food."Emphasis added.
French's, the McCormick-owned outfit that makes the famous yellow mustard, also makes tons of the canned, fried onions used in this casserole, and so I went to them to get the most authentic version of the recipe:
1 can (10 1/2 ounces) Campbell's® Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup
3/4 cup milk
1/8 teaspoon McCormick® Black Pepper, Ground
2 cans (14 1/2 ounces each) any style Del Monte® Green Beans, drained
1 1/3 cups French’s Crispy Fried Onions, Original, divided
Basically you mix it all together except for a few onions, reserved for the top to float on the slop, then bake it. Oh, but get this: "For a kick of spice, double the black pepper in this recipe to 1/4 teaspoon and prepare as directed."
Whoa, there, Pedro! A quarter of a teaspoon of black pepper? What're ya trying to do, blow the doors off the joint?
Here's my objections:
I don't much care for cream and vegetables, unless the cream has gone all the way to butter and the vegetable is corn. Creamed corn, creamed spinach, milk and green beans -- I'd have included prohibitions on this if I'd been writing Deuteronomy. But I accept that this comes down to personal preference.
I do think that green beans are among the easiest vegetables to prepare fresh; you just have to clean 'em and clip 'em. Corn on the cob is more complicated. Carrots that aren't the baby variety are more complicated. And fresh green beans taste so good. You used to eat them raw in the produce department when you were a kid, didn't you? I understand that sometimes we're in a rush; I am too, and I'm not too proud to open a can of Green Giant. But there's no reason to use the canned variety on a dinner that's supposed to be the highlight of the family dining for the year.
And speaking of cans, have you ever tried to eat those fried onions right out of the package? Grease and more grease. You could keep it your plumber's kit for valve and faucet work.
As for canned soup, I have no problem. I even have used cream of mushroom soup out of the can in a recipe on this very blog. But have you ever just had a bowl of canned cream of mushroom soup? Has anyone ever said, "I could go for a big bowl of Campbell's cream o' mushroom"? Probably not. If the ingredient is that repellent it makes the dish suspect.
If you've read any of this blog you know none of my objections are of the my-body-is-a-temple variety. If my body were a temple, it would be one of those old rounded ones in jungle movies, falling apart and covered with vines. No food is too unhealthy for me to try. But green bean casserole? Tried it; nasty crap.
Nope, my verdict is immutable. Fortunately for me, my wife also dislikes the classic GBC, and she's doing the cooking this Thursday. At least you usually only get green bean casserole at Thanksgiving, where there are so many side dishes no one notices that you took no green bean slop but doubled up on the candied yams.
Mmm... candied yams....
If you want to try a version of the recipe that is not made of canned gunk, there are plenty of elevated ones out there. Williams-Sonoma has one that looks okay. Still not my bag, baby, but I'd be willing to taste it.
Of course I welcome your comments on this pressing issue, in the comments section or at frederick_key via yahoo dot com. I'm planning to start working on a new casserole that will sweep the nation. Something with kohlrabi? Mustard greens? Feel free to send in any ideas.
When required to eat canned soup (usually better than the powdered, just-add-water-stuff) I would opt for Campbell's Cream of Mushroom over the more typical offering -- Chicken Noodle. The advent of non-condensed canned soup has not really advanced the technology, either.
ReplyDeleteGreen bean casserole was around often enough when I was younger and required to eat what was put before me, that I developed a tolerance for it. I have even made it a couple of times for some holiday I don't remember.
I would prefer the Mushroom Soup without the added ingredients, though. It took me some time to learn to tolerate green beans, too. Never ate them raw, even fresh from our garden.
My nomination for difficult vegetable, though is yellow squash. Took me many years to learn to like it. The solution was to drown it in butter.
I think we have a lot of room for agreement here, Raf, and I have to say that I usually find squash more trouble than it's worth. The possible exception is zucchini, which can be used to make a nice zucchini bread -- but a banana or carrot will do even better. It's just a method to keep us from being buried in zucchini.
ReplyDeleteSome people try to slip zucchini into their kids' diet by making "zoodles" instead of noodles for dinner. The small sampling of parents I know who have tried this seem to be divided into two camps: those whose children rejected the "zoodles," and those who claim that their kids loved them because they don't want to admit the awful truth.