December 24, 2014

How to Make a Bachelor Casserole

So Christmas (or whatever holiday really, provided said holiday involves a large dinner) is over. You have just… too much stuff in your fridge, wrapped shoddily in tin foil gathering bacteria.

“I’m dry aging it!” you lie to whoever sees your sad icebox. 

“It’s gaining flavor by the minute!”

It most certainly is! The longer you wait, the more the side dishes will taste like cardboard and the meats will taste like shoe leather. Which, if that’s what you’re into, who am I to judge? This is a free country.

I, however, ate eating cardboard and shoes. Because I’m a normal person. So here is what I do with the leftovers.

So, first off, find yourself a casserole dish. You have one of those, right? If not, go to the grocery store and get a foil one for like a dollar. You know the kind people use to make lasagna? That kind. Buy one of those. Any size will do, really. Just know that the bigger it is, the more food it will take to fill it (duh).

Preheat your oven to 375 and grease your pan. If you use butter, it will taste amazing, and you will shave a few minutes off your life. Spray-canola oil is usually my choice, because it’s easy to spray it, and you can make flamethrower or laser-blaster sounds when you do it.

Now, here comes the important part. Get ALL of your leftovers (aside from the desserts) out of your refrigerator. You will be making a leftover casserole today, and it is not a true leftover casserole, unless you use them all… because equality. Choose a bag or Tupperware full of something and put it in your pan in a single layer. Choose a different thing and spread it in a layer on top of the first thing. Continue layering things until you are out of things to layer. No real rules here about what should go above what. As a general rule, spread the meat layers out so that the other dishes separate them. That is less of a flavor thing and more of a texture deal. Other than that, go crazy! Top with gravy. Bake for 45 minutes. You are done.

After 45 minutes, your sad, bacheloresque casserole will be finished. Let it cool for a bit, then get a big-ass spoon and just kinda… scoop some on a plate. Crack a beer, or pour some wine. Maybe something nice to make yourself feel fancy. Or something crappy, so you can drink enough of it to feel fancy. There you have it, a perfectly mediocre meal. At least your fridge is 30 percent less full, now.