With Thanksgiving coming up, it’s easy to get excited for all of the traditional foods of the season. Naturally, everyone is anticipating the old favorites- dressing, gravy, (s)mashed potatoes, Tofurkey, and the like. But let’s not overlook that classic creation, everyone’s favorite gun-metal grey veggie-centric delicacy, green bean casserole. Of course, not everyone has been so blessed to have grown up on this savory treat. If that’s the case, you’re in luck. I hereby bequeath to you, my loyal readership, the world’s greatest recipe for Green Bean Casserole.
Paul’s Impossibly Easy Green Bean Casserole
2 16 oz cans green beans, drained
2 16 oz cans cream of mushroom soup, not drained
1 can French-fried onions, also not drained
1. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Eat one can of green beans as quickly as possible.
3. Eat one can of mushroom soup as quickly as possible.
4. Repeat steps 1 and 2.
5. Vomit contents of stomach into 9-by-12 casserole dish. Induce vomiting, if necessary, only by physical means, either by having a family member or friend administer the Heimlich maneuver or performing it on yourself using the back of a chair. Remember, catch as much as you can in casserole dish to avoid cleanup issues afterwards.
6. Sprinkle onions on top of beans-soup-stomach acid mixture.
7. Place casserole into oven until rancid odor permeates the house and overwhelms the appetizing smells of your other Thanksgiving fare. Remove from oven and serve to gullible guests.
As you can probably guess, I don’t care much for green bean casserole, or it will henceforth be referred to by me, “bean barf.” Of course, I realize that it’s one of those love/hate foods, and I know plenty of otherwise sensible people (including the lovely Angela) who are fans of the stuff. But I find it pretty disgusting, even when it’s made using more conventional methods than the ones I employ above.
Part of it is that the combination of tasty veggies and cream soup seems a fairly unholy alliance. If I’m in the mood for green beans, I want them as unadorned as possible, with some butter and occasionally a few slivers of almond. What I don’t want is for them to be drowning in a heavy cream soup, particularly not if said soup turns the beans from a vibrant green to a grey the color of volcanic ash. I suppose it doesn’t help that I discovered about ten years back that I’m allergic to mushrooms. But then again, my allergy does free me from the burden of having to ever eat bean barf, even out of politeness. The younger me, whose parents thankfully never made the stuff but who often found himself having to “take just a little bit” out of courtesy when visiting others, would be green- or grey, as the case may be- with envy.
So Happy Thanksgiving, everybody, and enjoy your bean barf. Or, if you’re like me, don’t.