Southern Hospitality
When I was a kid, holiday meals were a big deal. We’d gather in the late morning at a cousin’s or an uncle’s house in West Memphis, Arkansas, just over the Mississippi. Everyone would bring a dish, and “everyone” was a lot of people. There was a separate kid’s table, y’all! There was turkey, mashed potatoes, pe-can pie, dressing, and gravy, as one might expect, but some of the dishes we shared seem pretty foreign to me now: sweet potato casserole with an inch-thick layer of toasted marshmallows on top; every frozen or canned vegetable you can think of; rolls and biscuits also from a can; a “fruit” salad made of canned fruit cocktail, Jell-O, Cool Whip, and rainbow marshmallows. One of my favorites was the ever-present basin of white flour dumplings in white gravy. It must have had turkey or chicken stock in it, and possibly some seasonings, but it was in all respects the whitest food I’ve ever eaten.
My dear, sainted grandmother couldn’t cook worth a lick. She was the sort, of whom it might be said, could burn cereal. She usually made the marshmallow fruit salad. I loved it all. Family meant a lot to all of them, and food was always a part of it.
I’ve tried making versions of some of these dishes before, but to make them right is to make them recklessly and with abandon. These are dishes that require too much butter, or margarine, Stay-Puft, lard, Bisquick, canned fruit, Crisco, Velveeta. My sweet potato casserole with a layer of natural maple-flavored marshmallows was a poor substitute for the real thing, and I just can’t bring myself to purchase Cool Whip or rainbow marshmallows.
There were other family gatherings throughout the year that all featured much better food. Barbecues, fish frys, or pulled pork bought by the pound from Leonard’s Barbecue, with beans and coleslaw. These affairs depended on the cooking skills of one or two individuals, or on a restaurant. My dad’s family loved good food; they just mostly couldn’t make it. At Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner it didn’t matter. Everyone helped, and that made it special. Even if you just brought the canned rolls and Uncle BooBoo made the turkey, everyone was on even footing. Everyone felt appreciated. We’d all plate up together, eat together, and then watch football together (or run around outside together).
I’ve long since realized that I don’t need to recreate these dishes. What was important was the sense of togetherness that was created by everyone contributing a part to the whole. I can remember just how everything tasted, and it brings me right back. That’s enough.
That’s what I want to create when I host holiday meals. I want to have memorable dishes with great ingredients, but more than that I want everyone to feel involved and included. If for some that means buying rolls, or being in charge of cranberry sauce, that's great. I’ll probably make something more involved, or more likely several things plus sauces and relishes, but I don’t expect it of anyone else. I’d much rather have a four-ingredient green bean casserole that a loved one knows how to make easily, than for them to feel an expectation of bringing a complex dish. Simple dishes can create lasting memories, especially if you have that one family member or friend that always brings it. It’s about bringing people together and feeling connected, and what better way than for everyone to have a plate on the serving table.
Four Ingredient Green Bean Casserole
Ingredients
2-15oz cans Field Day organic green beans, or an equivalent amount of thawed, frozen green beans. Really, freshly cooked is best- but don’t leave them too firm, they should get quite soft while baking.
1-10.5oz can Pacific Foods Organic condensed cream of mushroom soup
3/4 cup milk or your preferred milk substitute
1-3.5oz package Fresh Gourmet crispy onions
Directions
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Mix green beans, soup, milk, and ½ of the onions in a casserole dish. You can check the salt and pepper levels and adjust, but it’s probably fine.
Bake until hot and bubbly, 25-30 minutes.
Top with the remaining onions and return to the oven until the onions have started to brown, about 5 minutes. Let stand a few minutes before serving.