Tex-Mex squash casserole

I took a wrong exit on my way to the Birmingham Airport. I don’t usually mind getting lost because this can often lead to discovery. But after meandering endlessly down tree-lined country roads I realized that my journey, while beautiful, needed to have a focus or I would miss my flight back to New York. I pulled into the first parking lot I saw. It was for a restaurant—Joel’s Restaurant of Trussville, Alabama. The lot was packed with cars, which is always a good sign. But that’s not why I decided to stay and eat lunch. Nope, I decided to sit a spell because they had on the buffet squash casserole. And I adore squash casserole.

I’ve always thought it strange that I love squash casserole so much considering how little I enjoy eating squash any other way. Steamed, grilled, sautéed—no matter how it’s prepared I often pick at it and push it to the side of a plate. I’m just not a fan of its soft texture and abundance of flat, slimy seeds. But serve me squash in a casserole and I’ll eat seconds or even thirds.

OK, perhaps it’s not that odd that I love squash casserole since it’s a creamy, crunchy mass that’s closer to the fattening family than the vegetable family. But this doesn’t make it even less delicious. And I always rationalize eating it by telling myself that certainly some of the squash’s vitamins would have leached into the swirls of dairy that hold the squash in suspension.

This squash casserole on offer at Joel’s that day was the same kind that my mom and my grandma make: yellow summer squash cut into rounds, baked with a mix of cream of mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup and a package of corn bread stuffing. Yes, it qualifies as semi-homemade but it sure is good. That said, when I picked up a few pounds of yellow squash and zucchini at the farmers market recently, I didn’t have any of these squash casserole ingredients on hand. So I knew if this squash was going to be eaten I’d just have to improvise.

I made my first batch of squash casserole, thinking that it was going to be swell and I was going to be able to tell the world, “You don’t need cream of mushroom soup!” But what I made wasn’t all that good. I then made two more pans and had a casserole bake off—me vs. the mushroom soup. A fine idea in practice, yes, but not necessarily execution when it’s hot and humid both inside and out.

I was about ready to admit defeat when I hit on the bright idea to adapt my King Ranch chicken casserole recipe into a squash casserole. And, it worked! At last I had a squash casserole that could rub shoulders with my mom’s squash casserole.

Does mine taste the same? No, it’s different but no less equal. So now we’ll just have to make room on the table for two squash casseroles, which isn’t a bad thing at all.