Seasonally, the time is right for hotdish. The weather is turning cooler, the oven has waited patiently while the grill has had its many days of glory. People are coming off their summer buzz and organizing, whether to boost a local sports team or join a church choir. And in this neck of the woods, anything that involves organizing usually also involves a potluck. Hotdish, of course, is part of the holy trinity of potluck, along with Jell-O salad and bars (that is, calorie-rich baked desserts, not drinking establishments).
Newcomers to this area—that includes second-generation residents—tend to look at a hotdish and say “oh, casserole.” But here hotdish (single word, no article necessary) is not casserole, and we’re just as sure of that as we are of our favorite childhood circle game, Duck-Duck-Gray Duck.
While hotdish and casserole may share the same culinary history, they’ve split in evolution. Both are a one-dish meal served directly from that dish, yet where casseroles have been accepted by the hoi polloi, hotdish has been relegated to nostalgic reminiscences about mom-cooking and church basements. Blame it on the cream of mushroom soup.
Put simply, hotdish is a meat, a veg, a starch, a binder, and cheese thrown together into a Dutch oven or baking dish. The binder is often that cream of mushroom soup (otherwise known as Lutheran binder). If you use a red sauce as a binder, go ahead and call your creation goulash, but if you use beaten eggs, it’s no longer hotdish, it’s an eggbake. I don’t make the rules.
At any rate, the timing may be right for a hotdish renaissance. The food mood has turned slightly nostalgic and cunningly comfortable:
Witness the up-scaling of burgers, meatloaf, roast pork, and mashed potatoes at local restaurants. Why not hotdish? Tater Tot hotdish, arguably the crowning achievement of this food family, could be tweaked and improved on. Tuna-noodle hotdish could sing in the hands of a masterful cook.
Nor, in our quest to update a classic, need we remain dependent on a gelatinous blob of canned soup, just because our mothers were. A roux is a fine binder, and making one is a skill easily mastered. We can use fresh herbs; we can use cheese that comes right off the farm. In short, it is within our power to evolve the hotdish and spread its warm love beyond the Midwest! I have a vision of millions of Lutheran ladies, Le Creuset crocks cradled in their oven mitts, marching forth in a campaign for the new hotdish.
Some will argue that we should leave well enough alone, that a good hotdish is one well remembered, not updated into some upstart version of itself. My response? You can embrace tradition and still advance. I say make the hotdish of your youth when your heart calls for it. But create your own version, too—after all, the next generation will need to remember you.
Chicken and Orzo Hotdish
2 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 1/2 lbs. skinless boneless chicken breasts
3 Tbsp. butter
3 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 cup freshly chopped sage
1/2 cup chopped shallots
1/2 cup crème fraîche
1/2 cup chopped prosciutto
1 cup freshly chopped spinach
1 cup orzo pasta
1 cup panko bread crumbs
1/2 cup grated parmesan
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a 4-quart pot, bring stock to a slight boil. Add chicken and simmer, turning once, for about 6 minutes. Remove from heat and cover pot, letting chicken stand until just cooked through, about 15 minutes. Remove chicken to bowl to cool, but keep stock in covered pot.
Over low heat, melt butter in 2- to 3-quart saucepan. Add flour and stir for 3 minutes, making a roux. Add warm stock while whisking, and simmer gently for 10 minutes, whisking occasionally. Whisk in cream and simmer for 5 minutes, whisking occasionally. Remove from heat, transfer to large bowl and stir in salt, pepper, sage, and shallots.
Remove 1/2 cup of sauce to separate bowl and stir in crème fraîche. Chop chicken into 1-inch pieces and stir into remaining sauce.
Cook orzo in boiling water until just al dente, then drain. Stir into chicken mixture along with spinach and prosciutto. Transfer the mix to casserole dish, spreading evenly. Spread crème fraîche topping evenly.
Toss bread crumbs with parmesan and sprinkle over surface. Cover with foil and bake in the middle of the oven till bubbly (about 25 minutes), then uncover and turn on the broiler for 5 minutes to brown the top. Remove from oven and transport to your community function with care and pride.
