A "Gourmet Classic" Evolves
Sat., January 12, 10:43 AM
You can blame it on the Golf Widow. Well, you probably read her posts anyway, but this was generated by her rant(s) about Sandra Lee, the “Semi-Homemade” cook. As far as I’m concerned, you can cook whatever you like. Personally, I don’t do much cooking any more. But to quote the late Peg Bracken, “you can pour canned tomato soup over a veal chop if that’s what you like, but you can’t call it scallopini” — no matter what some kwik’n’e-z recipe says.
Probably the most famous semi-homemade “classic” is the green bean casserole, made with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, Durkee’s French-fried onions, and canned green beans — maybe a splash of Worcestershire sauce. Sure, it’s easy, and you can find the recipe printed on any of the packages. Nevertheless, we have found some better variations.
Our friend Betsy makes it with chopped broccoli. That’s much tastier than green beans. My kids like it a lot, but Husband doesn’t eat broccoli. And that’s why I came up with the idea of using spinach. That’s frozen chopped spinach.
You have to remember that canned vegetables are cooked, but frozen ones are not. Each vegetable has its own spices. And Worcestershire is very good, but it’s not vegetarian, so we don’t use it. In any case, I had to experiment with seasonings and cooking times until I was satisfied.
I have made this recipe three times in the past couple of months, mostly because I seem to have forgotten how to get it right. Or maybe it was because I (gasp) started using a different brand of onions.
Durkee’s fried onions are very tasty, but TJ’s are, excuse me, a lot better — less salt, no preservatives. However, that green beans recipe is copyrighted. So TJ’s wrote its own recipe. It starts with sautéed fresh mushrooms. What a novel idea! The next instructions seem to be for a cream sauce… I’ll just beat an egg into the soup concentrate. As usual, I substitute chopped spinach for the green beans.
So I have a version of my basic recipe; what I no longer have is the instinct for the nuances. The first time, it tasted all right, but it was too wet. I’m not sure why; I do believe it was cooked through. In any case, when I made it again, I set the spinach in a sieve for several hours. I drained out several ounces of water. Y’think that could be it? Yes, sometimes. I did it once more, draining the spinach all day; only a tablespoon of water came out.
C’mon! Same brand, same size package, same product. That’s a big difference. I’ve come to the conclusion that it depends on how well the frozen foods manager handles his merchandise. Thawing and refreezing would release more liquid, I think, but I shall never be able to tell until I open the package; time for drainage is now written into my recipe.
I served a piece of this delicately seasoned spinach casserole to Husband for supper one evening, along with a bowl of hearty chicken noodle soup. He was delighted. “Ooh, spinach,” he said, “can I put it in my soup?”
So much for us gourmets. Now you understand why I don’t bother to cook much any more.
