By March is doing its tentative green-underneath-the-gray thing in Pilsen. I have been walking the neighborhood more — through the murals on 18th Street, past the taqueria, past the bakery, past the church with the garden. The neighborhood in early spring has a different energy from the neighborhood in full summer: quieter, more interior, the sounds coming from inside buildings rather than from the sidewalk. I am learning its seasons the way you learn a person's moods.
Blog writing this week has been about the book idea — Kristin has said twice now that the blog should be a book, and I have been sitting with that seriously. I wrote an outline. It is messy. It covers the same territory the blog does but arranged differently — not chronologically but thematically: the foods of survival, the foods of grief, the foods of a new place, the foods you inherit and the ones you invent. I emailed it to Kristin because she is the lawyer and also the most practically intelligent person I know. She called back in an hour. She said "This is good. This is actually good."
Made moussaka this week — a project recipe, the Greek version with ground lamb and eggplant and bechamel on top. Under six dollars for a casserole that fed me four days. The bechamel is the same bechamel as the macaroni and cheese, slightly different seasoning. The eggplant takes forty-five minutes to prep properly — salted, rested, rinsed, roasted — and then another thirty to assemble and another forty-five in the oven. Three hours total. A Sunday recipe entirely.
There is something about making a dish that takes three hours that is about more than the food. It is a statement about having time you are willing to spend on something that is only for yourself. I am twenty-four and I am spending three hours on a Sunday making moussaka for nobody except me, and I am going to eat it all week and write about it on the blog and that is a completely legitimate use of a Sunday afternoon. I have earned this Sunday. I have earned it exactly right.
The moussaka got me thinking about casseroles in general—about the particular satisfaction of building something in layers, putting it in the oven, and letting time do the work. This Broccoli Corn Bake is a different kind of project: simpler, faster, but cut from the same cloth. It is the kind of recipe that rewards a Sunday afternoon and pays you back in quiet, reheatable meals all week—which, right now, feels like exactly the right trade.
Broccoli Corn Bake
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 (10 oz) package frozen chopped broccoli, thawed and drained
- 1 (15 oz) can whole kernel corn, drained
- 1 (14.75 oz) can creamed corn
- 1 egg, beaten
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
- 1/2 cup crushed crackers or breadcrumbs
- 2 tablespoons butter, melted
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Instructions
- Preheat. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease an 8x8 or 2-quart baking dish.
- Combine filling. In a large bowl, stir together the broccoli, whole kernel corn, creamed corn, beaten egg, sour cream, cheddar cheese, salt, pepper, and garlic powder until evenly mixed.
- Transfer to dish. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
- Make topping. In a small bowl, toss the crushed crackers with the melted butter until coated. Scatter evenly over the top of the casserole.
- Bake. Bake uncovered for 40–45 minutes, until the top is golden and the center is set and bubbling at the edges.
- Rest and serve. Let sit 5 minutes before serving. Stores well covered in the refrigerator for up to 4 days; reheat individual portions in the microwave.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg