Welcome to my new feature, Ill-Advised Culinary Delights, where every week or so I will feature a recipe that is anything but tantalizing. I was planning to start this feature with something from the “Wilton Gifts From The Kitchen: Recipes and Ideas for Take Along Gifts” book I unearthed the other day. But I’m having technical difficulties with the images at the moment. So all of those wonderful recipes will have to wait for another day. Instead I’d like to start with Ambrosia Salad and Seafood Chow Mein casserole, two lovely gifts from my grandmother’s kitchen.
It seems like in every food blog or book I read lately the author has a rich family food history. Favorite recipes handed down through generations, lush detailed kitchen memories, and important foods that were woven into the landscape of their childhood. I on the other hand was drawn to food exactly because of my lack of food history. My mother was a single parent who worked long hours. All our dinners were in front of the TV at around 10pm. The only meal I remember that made frequent reappearances was bean dip. A big plate of refried beans, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and guacamole, and a bag of chips. At the same time this was contrasted with a lack of kid geared processed foods. Fruit roll-ups, pudding cups, and twinkies never had a place in our house. (Which apparently led to a bartering system in kindergarten wherein I traded home baked chocolate chip cookies for all sorts of crap.) So I grew up in some sort of odd in between world of respecting and appreciating real food and vegetables but also never branching out beyond a very limited scope of foods.
Real meals were always served at my grandparents house. Well, real in the sense that they involved sitting down at a table at a “normal” dinner time and that they included most of the food groups. But there was always an odd choice of salad OR vegetable because for some reason you could not have both. That would be too much green. And waldorf and ambrosia salads (neither of which contain anything resembling a vegetable) counted in that salad or vegetable choice. Everything was very mid-century. Like the ambrosia salad with the it’s pastel colored mini fruit flavored marshmallows. And the variety of Good Housekeeping style casserole dishes. Like the Seafood Chow Mein Casserole.
Ambrosia Salad - I’ve seen a lot of versions of this dish and this particular combination if ingredients doesn’t seem to be particularly common.
- 1 c. salad dressing (mayonnaise)
- 8 oz. cool whip
- 1 lg. can fruit cocktail (drained)
- 1 can mandarin oranges
- 1 cup grapes
- 2 c. mini fruit flavored marshmallows
Mix it all together and pretend it’s somehow nutritious and can substitute for a green salad or a vegetable.
Seafood Chow Mein Casserole - I had to search around for a recipe approximating this because I don’t remember it exactly. What follows is a Tuna Chow Mein Casserole but I know my grandmother called it seafood and it wasn’t tuna. I just don’t remember what other canned seafood she used. I made adjustments to the recipe I found to more accurately represent my grandmother’s recipe. What I remember most about this recipe is that none of the crunchy elements remained crunchy. Everything was soggy and gooey and creamy in a very bad way.
- 1 can (10 1/2 ounces) condensed cream of mushroom soup
- 1 can (6 1/2 to 7 ounces) tuna, drained
- 1/2 cup salad dressing (mayonnaise)
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1 can water chestnuts
- 1 can (4 ounces) chow mein noodles, divided, about 2 cups*
In a large bowl, combine all but 1 cup of the chow mein noodles; move to a casserole dish. Top with remaining 1 cup chow mein noodles. Bake in 375° oven 25 minutes or until hot. Makes 4 to 6 servings.
September 15, 2009, 3:58pm Comments