3 min read

This Newsletter Is About Tater Tot Hotdish

This Newsletter Is About Tater Tot Hotdish
Photo by Courtney Cook / Unsplash

Mandy and I are going to Chicago later this week. Given that there are approximately 100,000 restaurants we'd like to go to there, we're holding off on anniversary and Mother's Day dinners until then. Still, we gotta eat for nutrients and stuff. Physicians recommend this.

"If you wanted to do something for me this weekend, you could just make me some tater tot hotdish," Mandy said, perimenopause-ally. "I've been craving that for some reason."

Sold. Not to brag about something with four ingredients, but I make a damn fine tater tot hotdish. So much so that I have some thoughts on it.

THE NAME: I have heard, with my own ears, people call it "tater tot casserole." They did this on purpose. I don't know their agenda. I don't know if their parents were too distant or too protective. But it doesn't change the facts at hand. It was said, without apology or regard.

I don't know where you're from. But I know you're not from here. (Someone in my social feed observed that this is like Wisconsin, where you make something regular but then add a bunch of Sprite to it.)

THE STEALTH VEGETABLES: One way to get kids to eat their veggies is through the time-honored practice of lying to them. Much like getting your dog to take his pills by hiding it in peanut butter, you can feed your children healthy things via deceit and misdirection. Unless you are my kids, who would just pick the peas and carrots out like they were panning for gold. This is also how I knew their teenage vegan/vegetarian phases were unsustainable.

In other words, while many people throw a bag of mixed vegetables into the slurry, I make it without. Roasted vegetables on the side are better anyway, but if this is how you get your offspring to eat something that's not a Lunchable, godspeed.

THE SLURRY: You know, the goop in the middle. The ooze. There are two options: Campbell's Cream of Mushroom (chicken for the anti-fungi) or, and I swear this is real, making your own. Multiple online recipes call for things like browning the beef, removing the beef from the pan, then making your own goop with the remaining fat, whole milk, onion, and cremini mushrooms. While this sounds great, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER THIS TAKES. This isn't the Cordon Bleu. You're not getting a Michelin star for your process. Your grandmoms had this one right the first time.

(Also, I use Campbell's Cream of Mushroom and Roasted Garlic, but that might be too spicy for some Midwestern appetites.)

THE ADDITION: Sharp cheddar cheese added to the slurry. That is my one hack. Just gives it a little extra something. (That something is cholesterol. Mind your statins.) Sprinkle some on the top the last ten minutes of baking if you're a bad boy like me.

THE TOTS: Generic tots (er, tater puffs) work just fine. I am not brand loyal in any way. Ore-Ida has an Extra Crispy brand, but I fear whatever chemical additive they use to achieve that fearsome result. My mother puts tots on the bottom and top for extra starch opportunities, which I haven't attempted but want to note for the tot enthusiasts in the audience.

THE APPEARANCE: Once you've layered your protein and your slurry, you're confronted with a choice:

A. Dump the bag of tots on the pan, spread 'em out haphazardly to achieve relatively uniform coverage, or

B. Place every single tot atop the mess like you're disarming a bomb. You're not making dinner, you're curating a hotdish experience. You always won at Operation and your friends wouldn't even play the game with you after awhile.

I'm more of an A, but I respect the B path because it looks so damn cool when it comes out of the oven. Maybe someday.

THE RECIPE:

Preheat oven to 350. Brown hamburger, season with salt and pepper. If you have an onion on hand, go ahead, chop it up and add to the mix. Look at you, chef.

Once browned, add to bottom of pan. Layer soup on top. Sprinkle cheese on top of that. Top with tots, put in oven uncovered for 50 minutes. Remove, sprinkle cheese on top, return to oven for 10-15 more minutes, donezo. Serve with whatever vegetable you prefer.

See you tomorrow! Naz Reid.