Slow Christmas

In Louisville, it’s tradition to serve oyster casserole at Thanksgiving dinner. It’s a curious thing, given Kentucky is a land-locked state and tinned oysters must’ve been pretty expensive back in the day. But if you’re going to splurge, it makes sense that you’d put them in a creamy casserole:  relatively few oysters are enough to impart a delicious aroma throughout the dish. It reminds me of the Christmas oranges, one each, that Mr. Edwards brought through the blizzard to Laura and Mary Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie.  Hard to conceptualize, in this day and age where if you get a hankering for a starfruit in February, you can just go and pick one up. Back then, an orange was a special occasion, and imagine how it must have tasted in the middle of a blizzard in the Dakota territory, after a couple months of corn meal mush and fatback. But back to the oysters. In our family, we serve these in addition to stuffing and mashed potatoes, they aren’t meant to substitute. They go nicely with Elly’s magical turkey, and as she freely admits, the oysters are her true favorite. Here’s a “recipe”, though you hardly need one.

saltines
fresh oysters, found in clear cans next to the crabmeat in the seafood section (a pint for a small family, 2 pints for a big one)
whole milk
unsalted butter
chicken broth
salt & pepper

Crush the saltines in a plastic bag with a rolling pin. Butter a deep casserole or pyrex pan. Lay down a layer of crumbs, lay the oysters an inch or two apart. Drop little pats of butter into the gaps between. Pour in a little broth, and a little milk. Repeat a layer of crackers, then oysters and butter pats, more liquid. Repeat until you hit just below the top of the casserole (it will puff up while baking). Top with butter, salt and pepper. Pour both liquids over all the surface area until there are no dry patches. You don’t want it to look like your morning cereal, but you don’t want it to be at all dry either — this is a custard-like casserole. Make sure the edges are moist in particular, which will allow it to rise. Stick in the oven at 350 degrees for 30-50 minutes, depending on the depth of your casserole.

If you’re curious about the dish but there’s no way you can get your own family to eat oysters at Thanksgiving, I recommend it as its own fall entree, served with salad. The slow spouse and I had it last week with green lentil and tomato stew, a good acidic counterpart to the creamy basic. And if anyone out there knows the origins of the Louisville oyster casserole tradition (Ron Mikulak I’m looking at you), please share it with us!