Ms. Hunting Creek is a writer in Virginia. Her work has appeared in The Toast, The Airship, The Washington Post, and Medium. When she isn't rooting for the California Golden Bears, she designs textile art, reads cookbooks in bed, and wrangles two cats, a golden retriever, and her husband..
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Green Bean Dystopia
We won't be having green bean casserole on Thursday. As a matter of fact, we will NEVER have green bean casserole in this house, by this cook, EVER. Green beans are a nice enough vegetable, but they are not traditional to my family's Thanksgiving, or Mr. Hunting Creek's. His family always had a nice broccoli casserole made with cream and sherry and parmesan and slivered almonds (no cans of soup involved); mine always had whatever my dad felt like making, (he never ever made Green Bean Casserole).
We never encountered this dish (abomination is not too strong a word) when we grew up in California. Californians are fortunate to have abundant fresh vegetables all year round.
It was only after we moved to Virginia that it made itself known. Our first year here, we were invited to Thanksgiving at the home of Mr. Hunting Creek's new boss. He was worried that we didn't know anyone and had no family nearby. We had never had Thanksgiving at a non-family member's home. It was here that we discovered that some people think that Green Bean Casserole is a food. We were troupers; we ate it. After we got home, Mr. Hunting Creek and I agreed to never let that dish darken our table again.
It was with shock and horror that I read this morning that about 30% of American families serve it for Thanksgiving.(Others hate it too!) With news like that, it is surely the harbinger of the End Times. People! Cook some broccoli, for Pete's sake! Or some fresh brussels sprouts. Or some nice creamed spinach. We'll be having roasted brussels sprouts with pancetta and roasted chipotle sweet potatoes. The cream of mushroom soup will be where it belongs...in a Tuna Casserole, on some other table, some other night.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
I too think they are horrible ;) We never had them at our house.
I am thankful that someone else agrees with my cousin and me. Green bean cassarole is one of the most vile creations that existed. I did not learn about it until a few years ago when I was living in Fla. I will never cook it or eat it as long as I have enough brain cells to know better.
Dare I say it? I'm actually almost fond of the stuff. About in the same way that I am fond of beef strogannoff (?) by hamburger helper. We don't cook either of them, but I wouldn't turn down a serving. Just one - not a whole pan.
I'm with you! I've never met a Brussels Sprout that I didn't like . . .
I grew up thinking everyone's turkey came with a side of green peas with tiny pearl onions, (without cream sauce, duh, not when there's a gravy boat on the table). And a lovely mound of winter squash pureed with brown sugar and ginger. I don't think I saw or ate a sweet potato until I was an adult.
If you have to murder a vegetable by overcooking it in a casserole, I think I'd rather have beans than broccoli. But neither will ever grace my Thanksgiving table.
Thank you, and a very Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family too!
I grew up with Green Bean Casserole (with the Campbells Cream of Mushroom Soup AND the French's onions out of the can on it) because my mom was from the generation of cooks in the US who completely, totally embraced the crack of convenience foods. Boxed cake mixes, canned soup, dried soup, boil-in-a-bag rice. You name, she embraced it. She was also a pretty horrible cook, actually - I did not realize until I married my husband that beans, broccoli, or brussels sprouts actually came in a color other than grey and came in a texture other than swamp-like. She boiled the death out of everything. And no, green bean casserole does not grace our table either. Actually, we only eat green beans during the summer when I can get them fresh and local because I think frozen green beans taste and have a texture just like paper towels.
Post a Comment