As much as part of me still yearns powerfully for summer's grandiose warmth that so rapaciously steals our hearts and sends us running straight for the nearest beach, meadow of wildflowers or azure hued pool to linger longer, that ship has sailed and in its place now docks autumn, complete with its own distinct appeal.
Undoubtedly one of the perks of the third season of the year is its menu. From the first sublimely succulent pear to the very last pumpkin, chilled from pale frost, and destined to be into a silken, scrumptious soup, this time of the year speaks to the gastronome in all of us, soothing and filling with a bounty and repertoire unlike any other.
One of my first school memories as a youngster that I can recall with a substantial degree of clarity is of a potluck that was held in the school gym when I was in grade one. It was an evening event and was open to students of all grades (which back in those days, meant kindergarten through to grade seven) and their families, many of who added dishes to the long rows of tables. Already a budding foodie (though that term scarcely existed back then), I well recall the way that upon walking into the gym, decorated with hand print paper turkeys, streamers, and autumn foliage centerpieces, the entire place smelled, headily and deliciously of both corn and casseroles.
Though each of these foods were already long established elements of the season, right then and there, they cemented themselves even further as part of autumn in my books and on my table. As such, when I spotted today's delightful 1950s 7-layer casserole recipe, one layer of which is corn, a few months ago, I knew that I had to share here in honour of the long ago memory as soon as the mercury really started to plummet.
{Rice, corn, tomato sauce, ground beef, onions, green peppers, and bacon call this vibrantly hued vintage seven-layer casserole recipe home and add up to one mighty lovely cold weather dish. Image via the fantastic, imaged filled blog Hey, My Mom Used To Make That!}
One thing that I especially love about this great mid-century recipe from Hunt's Tomatoes is that it's inherently gluten-free (assuming you use gluten-free bacon, which most brands are). No forgoing ingredients or swapping in one food for another here, no siree! Aside from the fact that I need to use ground chicken or turkey instead of beef (it bothers one of my GI conditions something fierce), I'm good to go - quite the rarity for me with any recipe, be it vintage or modern.
Fear not, too, all my lovely vegetarian and vegan friends, you can easily skip the ground beef or replace it with your favourite meat substitute crumble, mashed potatoes, a second layer of onions, cooked squash, lightly fried eggplant or zucchini, or anything else your heart desires. It doesn't need the bacon either, and again a meat-free version can be used, or you can top this tasty casserole with cheese, vegan cheese, bread crumbs, fresh herbs , or broken up pieces of pretzels, which deliver simple hit of salt and crunch as bacon would.
As with most casseroles, there is a lot of leeway here and I almost never make it precisely the same way twice. Sometimes I tuck in some green beans, others black olives, and every now and then, even little squeaky, creamy balls of bocconcini cheese. I usually play around with the seasonings, too, introducing things such as garlic powder, paprika, and/or seasoning salt, plus some fresh parsley, chives, basil, scallions, chervil, or dried oregano.
Though there have certainly been others since that memorable one back in the first grade, quite a while since has passed since I last attended a potluck. Where I to be invited to one right now, in the middle of fall, this is the dish I would most likely bring. It serves many hungry dinner guests, is incredibly easy to make, doesn't cost a huge fortunate, and the leftovers - though I doubt they'd be any - keep really well for up to four days afterwards in the fridge or can even be frozen for a few months.
Summer is long gone and winter looms near, but before the jingling bells and snowman lined streets of December return again, and certainly once they have, it's time to whip out our trusty casserole dishes and slide many a mid-century approved recipes like this wonderful, stick-to-your-ribs seven-layer casserole into the oven. The nostalgia inducing smell and timeless warmth they imbue one's kitchen with alone make doing so more than worth it!
