Ham Chicken Casserole

The week between Christmas and New Year's — the liminal week, the one that doesn't belong to either year, the one where time goes soft and the house smells like leftover ham and the kids stay in pajamas until noon and nobody asks what day it is because it doesn't matter. I love this week. It's the pause between exhales. The kitchen is full of leftovers and cookies and the remnants of a holiday that went exactly the way it should, and the only task is to eat what's left and rest and think about what comes next.

I made ham and bean soup — the New Year's tradition, the recipe that turns the Christmas ham bone into something new. The bone simmered in water with navy beans and onion and celery and garlic and a bay leaf, all day, low and slow, until the beans were soft and the broth was thick and the ham had given everything it had to the soup and the soup was greater than the sum of its parts. Leftovers as resurrection. The ham died at Christmas and was reborn as soup. This is the most Midwestern metaphor I know.

Jack spent the week planning his 2020 garden. The seed catalog from Christmas is annotated — color-coded tabs, circled varieties, margin notes about spacing and companion planting and soil pH requirements. He's nine in September but he's already gardening like someone who's been doing it for decades, and the reason is Roger, who calls every Wednesday at seven PM sharp to discuss planting strategies with an eight-year-old the way other grandfathers discuss football scores. The calls last forty-five minutes. They cover soil temperature, frost dates, seed starting schedules, and the eternal question of watermelon variety selection. Jack takes notes. Roger gives instructions. The farm may be gone but the farming instruction manual is being transmitted, one Wednesday phone call at a time.

New Year's Eve was quiet. Kevin and I stayed up until midnight with sparkling cider and the TV on and the kids asleep by ten, which is the correct age for kids to be asleep on New Year's Eve and the correct way for parents to celebrate, which is to say barely, with fizzy grape juice and the knowledge that tomorrow the pantry needs reorganizing and the Christmas tree needs to come down and the world keeps spinning whether you toast it or not. We toasted. We kissed. We went to bed at twelve-fifteen. We are not party people. We are pajama people. Pajama people with a good marriage and a full freezer and a boy who plans gardens. That's enough to start any year.

After the ham bone had simmered all day and given itself entirely to the soup, there was still a bit of ham left — not enough to build a meal around on its own, but too good to let go. That liminal week between Christmas and New Year’s has a way of asking you to be resourceful, to stretch what you have a little further, and this Ham Chicken Casserole was exactly the answer: simple, warm, and satisfying in the way that only a dish built from good leftovers can be. It felt right for a week when the whole family was in pajamas and nobody needed anything fancier than something bubbling gently in the oven.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or cubed
1 1/2 cups cooked ham, diced
1 can (10.5 oz) condensed cream of chicken soup
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 cup frozen peas
1/2 cup diced yellow onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese, divided
1 cup crushed buttery crackers or breadcrumbs
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
Mix the filling. In a large bowl, stir together the cream of chicken soup, sour cream, chicken broth, Dijon mustard, black pepper, and smoked paprika until smooth.
Add the proteins and vegetables. Fold in the shredded chicken, diced ham, frozen peas, onion, garlic, and 1 cup of the shredded cheddar. Stir until everything is evenly coated.
Transfer to baking dish. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
Make the topping. In a small bowl, combine the crushed crackers or breadcrumbs with the melted butter and toss to coat. Scatter evenly over the casserole, then sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of cheddar on top.
Bake. Bake uncovered for 35–40 minutes, until the filling is bubbling around the edges and the topping is golden brown.
Rest and serve. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Pairs well with a simple green salad or crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ham Chicken Casserole — Using Every Last Bit of the Holiday Ham