From the 1960s-1980s recipe box of a midwestern grandma.

Ingredients and Directions:

2 pounds hamburger

Chopped large onion

1 cup chopped celery

Brown these together and drain grease if needed.

Add to meat mix:

2 cups chow mein noodles*

2 cans chicken rice soup

2 cans mixed vegetables (drained)**

1 can cream of celery soup

1 cans cream of onion soup

2 tablespoons soy sauce

Pour all into casserole. Bake in pre-heated 350 degree oven until bubbling.

Granddaughter’s Notes:

”Hot dish?” More like “Hot Mess,” am I right?

For starters, and god knows with these midwestern casseroles, the details truly don’t matter (cook it ‘til it’s hot in a dish that will fit it).

Still, if you’re going to scribble it on an index card and keep it…

-what size casserole dish? (Yeah, yeah, it’s going to be 13” x 9”, but why not just say so?)

-why, why so much liquid? Does this ever really turn into a casserole or is it just a soupy mess in Pyrex? (Reading the ingredients again, yeah, this is going to be really, really wet for a casserole. But I’m not a chef.) But, thank god, the mixed vegetables are supposed to be drained. (You’ll need to drain the casserole too, probably. Maybe this should have been a stew?)

-Cans of mixed vegetables: carrot, little potato dice, lima beans, corn. Green beans. Maybe some celery. There is nothing about this that suggests (1) it won’t be overwhelmed by the beef , (2) that it will pair well with chow mein noodles (lima beans????), (3) that it won’t be utterly flooded and overly “creamed” by three different kinds of canned soup, even undiluted.

-Is there a sadder recipe than this? I kind of think there is not, in fact, a sadder recipe than this.

(The only way to make this sadder is to somehow add more liquid, maybe some crushed corn flakes, and replace the ground beef with, like, tongue or offal, or something.) (Okay, and then to serve raw, room temp.)

And then dollop some mayonnaise on top.

(Breathe, granddaughter, breathe.)

Fun Fact. There is not one time in many meals eaten at grandma’s house during the ages of the recipe box when this was served. Not one! (Thank God.)

Did she scribble this down from the back of a Green Giant box? A Ladies’ Home Journal page?

Don’t know.

Did she ever serve anything (to my knowledge) approaching this horror? No.

Does that mean she never did? Also no.

And, not to be too refined, but ICK. ICK. A THOUSAND TIMES ICK.

Dear Reader, I’m quite sure there is a version of casserole involving ground beef, various soups, Chinese noodles, and vegetables that is, um, edible.

This recipe is not that version. I’m, like, 99 percent sure.

I literally can’t believe Grandma wasted a perfectly good index card on this one.

Good heavens.

And, well, don’t call it “hot dish.” It’s a casserole, yet another of a million casseroles. Just call it that: “Disgusting, Misguided Mixed Vegetable with Some Beef and Tons of Soup Stupid Casserole with Crunchy Chinese Noodles.”

Fixed it. (The title. Not the recipe.) (Obviously.)

Notes:

*Chow Mein Noodles. Firstly, see “Mein gon.” Then see history of La Choy. (Spoiler: one of the founders died from a lightning strike.) Their crispy chow mein noodles were popular in America by the late 1930s.

Highly recommended viewing: La Choy “Swing American” commercial.

Also, even if this were a good casserole (and we’re pretty sure it’s really not), the best American use of these crunchy chow mein noodles, regardless of brand, is no-bake Bird’s Nest “cookies.” (They’re not really cookies. But they are delicious and adaptable to so many tastes and variations. Basic idea: small piles of crunchy chow mein noodles dipped in white chocolate, chocolate, butterscotch, you get the idea here, surely. Cool on waxed paper; add M&Ms if you want or marshmallows or, well, honestly anything you want that will stick. Presto: Bird’s Nest “cookies.”)

—> Please, please check out “The Occidental Oriental” on Envisioning the American Dream. Excellent, excellent, well, yeah, you get the idea. Five stars.

** The iconic American canned mixed vegetable blend is based on Veg-All’s 1926 “7-Veggie Mix.” It’s lima beans, corn, carrots, green beans, potatoes, celery, and peas. Like a pseudo-mirepoix plus succotash plus whatever the hell the garden gives up this year. Only add aluminum casing, some history, and profits. In granddaughter’s humble opinion, it needs onion. Also, it seems oddly gassy. And a very strange textural mix. That being said, it’s just fine in a vegetable soup. It’s not great on its own as a side. And under no circumstances would we combine this mess of canned veg with four cans of soup and call it a casserole.