It’s sort of hard to find inspiration for blogging when you’re mired in domestic tedium. I don’t delude myself that anyone is going to find riveting entertainment in a description of my advanced laundry-folding techniques or an analysis of my home decorating shortcomings. For some reason people seem to like reading about food, though. Unfortunately I have been stuck in one of those spaghetti>takeout>tacos>takeout>stirfry cycles for a few weeks, which isn’t nearly as interesting as, say, gateau citron.
Last week I made one of those great crazy can-of-soup casseroles that have no nutritional value whatsoever yet are surprisingly tasty in a retro sort of way:
6 chicken thighs, bone-in, skin-on, browned (you could substitute chicken breasts)
1 cup uncooked white rice
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can (14 oz.) diced tomatoes with green chiles
½ cup water
½ cup shredded cheddar cheese
Put chicken into a 13x9 casserole dish. Stir soup, tomatoes, rice and water together into a semi-coherent glop. Pour soup mixture over chicken, cover with foil and bake for an hour at 375 degrees, possibly 15 minutes longer if rice isn’t quite done. Top with cheese and uncover for last 15 minutes of baking.
This is one of those dishes that’s born of desperation, you know, the “it’s 6 pm and there’s nothing in the house for dinner and if I have to go to the store I’m going to stab someone with a ballpoint pen” kind of desperation? But it was actually a pretty decent meal, served with canned corn, refried beans and tortillas on the side.
You know, now that I think about it, we didn’t have tortillas on the side, but I seem to have embellished my memory of the meal. I’m actually not sure if we had the beans either. Crap, I should just tell the truth: I threw some canned salsa over leftover chicken, served it over dried-out leftover rice from Chinese takeout, sprinkled moldy cheese over it and called it a “casserole.”
Nah, I’m just joshin’ you. The casserole was for real, at least. Try it yourself if you don’t believe me.
1:12:45 PM 
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