Easy Cheesy Potato Casserole

Thanksgiving. The meal. The table. The day I have been cooking toward all year, the way a river moves toward the ocean — inevitably, with purpose, gathering everything along the way.

I was up at four in the morning. The turkey went into the oven at four-thirty, twenty-two pounds of brined bird that I had rubbed with butter and herbs and covered with cheesecloth soaked in more butter because a dry turkey is a failed turkey and I do not fail at turkey. The ham went in at six. The collard greens were on the stove by five, simmering low with smoked turkey necks, because collard greens need time the way Calvin needs coffee — without it, nothing good happens.

CJ arrived Wednesday night and slept in his old room. Destiny was there by nine Thursday morning, still sleepy, wearing the Birmingham sweatshirt she has had since high school. Marcus was at the kitchen table by seven, eating cereal and reading, and he said Mama do you need help and I said baby you are helping by being here, which was true and also a way of keeping him out of my kitchen during the critical hours when a mother does not need help, she needs space.

The table was set for seven: me, Calvin, CJ, Destiny, Marcus, and I set places for Doris and James who said they might come by for dessert. The tablecloth was white, pressed, because a Thanksgiving table deserves ironed linen the way a church deserves flowers. I set Marcus's favorite glass at his place — the tall blue one he has used since he was twelve — and I put the candied yams at his end because Marcus and candied yams have a relationship that borders on romantic.

We ate at two o'clock. Calvin said grace, a long one, naming each person at the table and what he was thankful for about them. When he got to Marcus he said I am thankful for this young man's heart, and his hunger, and his future, and his mother's mac and cheese that made him who he is. Marcus ducked his head. I blinked hard. Calvin kept praying. The food waited. Good food knows when to wait.

We ate for two hours. We talked and laughed and argued about football and passed the dishes and went back for seconds and thirds. Doris and Harold came for dessert and brought their grandchildren, and suddenly the house was loud and full and exactly what Thanksgiving is supposed to be. Marcus ate until I thought he might need medical attention. He pushed back from the table and said Mama, that was the best meal of my life. He says that every Thanksgiving. I believe him every time.

I washed the dishes by hand because some things should not be given to a machine. The washing is the ending of the meal, the benediction, the putting away of the celebration into clean cabinets and dry towels. Calvin dried. Marcus put away. The kitchen was clean by nine. The house was quiet by ten. I sat in my chair in the dark kitchen and said thank you to nobody and everybody and the room itself, because the room heard me, and the room has been hearing prayers like mine for eighteen years, and the room said amen.

That potato casserole has been on my Thanksgiving table for eleven years, and I think it stays because it is the most honest dish I know how to make—simple and warm and meant to feed a crowd without any fuss or pretense. When a house gets that full and that loud, you need food that holds, food that comforts, food that lets you be present for the people instead of hovering over the stove. This is that food. Here’s how I make it.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 10

Ingredients

3 lbs russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
8 oz cream cheese, softened and cut into pieces
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 cup whole milk or heavy cream, warmed
2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
8 slices thick-cut bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled, divided
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 tsp black pepper
3 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with butter or nonstick spray and set aside.
Boil the potatoes. Place cubed potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cook 15 to 18 minutes, until a fork slides through without resistance. Drain thoroughly and return potatoes to the warm pot for 1 to 2 minutes to steam off excess moisture.
Mash until smooth. Add butter and cream cheese to the hot potatoes and mash until both are fully melted and incorporated. Add sour cream and warmed milk, and continue mashing until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Do not over-work; stop when the lumps are gone.
Season and fold in the cheese. Stir in garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Fold in 1 1/2 cups of the shredded cheddar and half of the crumbled bacon. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Assemble the casserole. Spread the potato mixture evenly into the prepared baking dish. Smooth the top with a spatula. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar and remaining bacon evenly over the surface.
Bake until golden. Bake uncovered for 25 to 30 minutes, until the top is bubbling at the edges and the cheese is melted and beginning to turn golden in spots.
Rest and garnish. Remove from the oven and let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Scatter sliced green onions over the top and bring it to the table warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Easy Cheesy Potato Casserole — The Side Dish That Earned Its Place at Loretta’s Thanksgiving Table Right Next to Marcus’s Candied Yams