For better or for worse, in squash casserole and in health.

Food did not factor in to my decision to ask Kris to marry me on Christmas Eve in 1997. I mean don’t get me wrong, the smorgasbord that her family put together at Granny Pat and Pap-paw Bud’s house on Christmas Eve back then was an unwaiveringly direct route to a man’s heart, but we were young and in love and I had (hm. . . hmm. . . ) other things on my mind at the time.

I had begun wooing Kris with food early on in our relationship. As I recall, we celebrated the one month anniversary of our first date over a French Silk Chocolate Pie that I made from scratch from a recipe out of one of my mother’s cookbooks. It was not something I had ever made before and I still think that it didn’t set up exactly right but it was chocolate and I was hoping it would seem exotic or at least romantic. It was after all French Silk Chocolate Pie. I mean give me a break already! We were young and in love and by the way, that was March of 1991 and we have now been married for twelve years so I must have done something right!

Anyway, at some point I knew Kris was the one but, I honestly never gave much thought to what she might bring to the marital table, literally, pun intended.

Actually, I am incapable of describing the joy and happiness that Kris brings into my life and I can’t imagine life without her now. I am so blessed to have Kris at my side as I am recently and woefully reminded of family and the fragile and fleeting nature of human life. Right now I need to celebrate both. I need to revel in family tradition and wrap myself up in the bonds of my kindred and bask in the harmony and peace of home. I need to reassure myself of continuity and recommit to loving my loved ones. I need the kind of comfort that comes from collecting sun warmed vegetables at the farmer’s market with my kids; the peace derived from half an hour in the kitchen crying over onions, a cutting board, a huge casserole dish and several cans of Campbell’s cream of something soup. Right now, I need to stand in the tread of those who have gone before me and to feed, nourish and satisfy those who will go beyond me.

Kris brought squash casserole to the table. Kris’s squash casserole is, for me, just that quintessential comfort food. Yes, squash casserole offers that warm and satisfyingly starchy, creamy, summer sunshine yellow, goodness that we all seek from time to time. But more than that, this is the kind of food that follows blood lines through generations, that joins families and makes friends, food that is as comforting to prepare and serve as it is to eat. This casserole feeds body, mind and spirit.

Kris made squash casserole for me the first summer we were married. I think the recipe was her mom’s or maybe her grandmother’s and as I recall she had to call one or the other of them to jot it down. (An aside: I don’t specifically remember watching Kris make the casserole the first time but thinking back now, a smile sweeps across my face as I imagine her toiling in our exceedingly hot, sparse, college apartment kitchen which we had just painted a sunny but subtle and warm “firefly” yellow, ironically, it was exactly the color of summer squash.) So mind you, Kris has a written recipe for this casserole as to this day, she still rarely ventures into the kitchen without very specific written rules of engagement which she then follows with slavish precision. I've made it enough now that it has become part of my culinary repertoire and I don't need the written recipe. Besides, while I understand there is certainly a time and a place for precision and exactness, I find it infinitely more comforting to cook from course of habit than from a written recipe of rules and measures.

My Mom and Dad are hosting our big family reunion this weekend. I need to be with family and I need to feed them from an enormous crowd size pan of Kris's Summer Squash Casserole, for better or for worse, body, mind and spirit.

Kris's Summer Squash Casserole

Ingredients:

yellow summer squash
onion
stuffing style bread crumbs
2 cans of cream soup
butter
salt and pepper

Choose young tender blemish-free squash with shiny pale yellow skin. Wash and trim away the ends of the squash and slice into round disks. Peel and trim the onion. Slice and separate the onion into rings. Mix the cream soup with two cans of milk and warm gently. We usually use cream of celery but use what you and yours love. Line the bottom of a large deep casserole with a layer of squash slices and onion rings. Season the squash and onions with salt and pepper and evenly spoon over about one third of the soup. Cover with a thin layer of bread crumbs and dot with bits of butter. Repeat the layers until you get to the top of the casserole or you run out of squash. Cover with aluminum foil and bake in a 400 degree oven until the squash and onions are tender throughout. Uncover and bake until top layer of breadcrumbs are crisp and golden.