On ramekins and casseroles

As some of you may know from twitter, I recently purchased ramekins from Amazon, only to discover upon their arriving that they are “not open flame or broiler safe.” Since approximately 99% of my justification for buying ramekins was to make crèmes brûlées* every day (and die of a heart attack at 24), this was completely unacceptable, and “Return ‘ramecan’ts’ to Amazon posthaste” is at the top of my to-do list.

*Reportedly, you can burn the sugar using a broiler. It is less awesome or precise than a culinary torch, but it is certainly safer, and I already own a broiler. Also, here’s a sad story: The ramekins I purchased are made by a company called Corningware, whose ramekins used to be flame-safe. However, Corningware was bought out by “World Kitchen, Inc.” (of Reston) who decided to replace Corningware’s stoneware with cheap knockoffs and (I can only assume) charge the same price. Great!

While ramekins are not universally accepted as vital kitchen instruments, a good casserole dish is indispensable. Casseroles are easy to prepare, delicious, and you always seem to have appropriate ingredients on hand. Here’s the tale of a recent casserole adventure we’ve had on Virginia Street.

Michael, being from that cultural wasteland we call “The Midwest,” has long conspired to fill his arteries with as much cholesterol as possible, mainly by filling our refrigerator with as much grated cheese as possible. Every grocery trip, another bag of cheddar, monterey jack, or “mexican cheese” sneaks itself into our cart. Shocked and skeptical faces are met with ominous warnings: “Are you sure we’re not out of cheese? What if I want nachos, &c.? Why are you so mean to Michael?” So when our landlady finally replaced our old (and hilariously malfunctioning) oven, there was a whole shelf in our refrigerator devoted entirely to cheese. Please don’t laugh, I’m really not joking.

The natural response was a huge pyrex full of baked macaroni and cheese (plus ham). I make a mean macaroni and cheese, but since I also cook mainly by instinct and refuse to measure things, we ended up with much more four-cheese (cheddar, swiss, monterey jack, and romano) sauce than could possibly fit with all that pesky macaroni in the way. The remainder had been sitting in our fridge for weeks, and I finally decided to do something about it. “Smothered in velveeta” was the only way I ever encountered broccoli growing up, and while the thought of velveeta nowadays fills me with cognitive dissonance, a cheese sauce of my own artifice could no doubt substitute! Throw in chicken and noodles, and that is a casserole, good sir.

 
Easy n’ cheesy chicken and broccoli casserole

• 2 1/2 cups dry short pasta (we had rainbow rotini)
• 2 boneless skinless chicken breasts, cubed
• salt and thyme
• olive oil
• 2 medium heads of broccoli, florets ONLY. screw the stalks.
• 1 cup leftover cheese sauce (algorithm follows)
• 1/2 cup shredded cheese (we had monterey jack)
• 2/3 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil, and cook the pasta, removing when still firm (slightly firmer than al dente). [In recipes, you usually see "2 minutes shorter than package directions" but the packages from Safeway insist that you boil spaghetti for like, 20 minutes, at which point it has been reduced to a litigation-proof paste, so I always just test these things with a fork.] Drain and set aside.

 
Sprinkle salt and a generous amount of thyme on chicken and brown the outside in olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. It does not need to cook through.

Heat cheese sauce until melted, toss with broccoli in a bowl, then toss that with the pasta in a casserole dish. Toss chicken with monterey jack cheese, then fold that into the casserole dish. Pour milk over top, and bake the casserole, covered, for 35 minutes. Eat and be merry.

 
Cheese sauce algorithm
You will need 1 stick of butter (theoretically you can substitute olive oil, though I’ve never tried this), an equal amount of flour, milk (preferably warm), salt and spices (black pepper, cayenne, and nutmeg are what I usually use for mac n’ cheese), and as much shredded cheese as you can possibly imagine.

Melt the butter on medium in a saucepan, and add the flour in small portions, mixing between additions until thick. This is what is called a roux. Now add milk in small portions, mixing between additions until smooth; thickening will occur, this is what you want. When all the milk is added, you have bechamel (French for “generic white sauce”). Add salt and spices to taste, and then add cheese in handfuls, constantly stirring until the cheese has melted through. When the desired consistency/taste have been achieved, remove from heat and pour the liquid happiness over things you would like to eat.