So, yeah, today was a bit of a dumpster fire, if I’m being honest. You know those days where you just can’t seem to catch a break? That was today. And what do I do when the world feels like it’s crumbling? I make a casserole. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s the comfort, maybe it’s just something I can control. And today, it was the chicken broccoli and potato casserole’s turn to save my sanity, or at least my dinner plans.
Alright, so first, I had to wrestle some potatoes out of the pantry. Always a gamble what you’re gonna find in there. Peeled ’em, chopped ’em up – not pretty, mind you. My knife skills are, let’s be charitable, ‘functional.’ Threw those into a pot to boil. You gotta get them mostly soft, otherwise, you’re eating crunchy potatoes in your casserole, and nobody, I mean nobody, wants that. Just boiled ’em in some salted water until a fork went in easy enough.
While those spuds were doing their thing, I tackled the broccoli. Had a head of it in the fridge, looking a bit sorry for itself, but still good. Chopped it into florets. Some people get all fancy with their broccoli, blanching it perfectly and all that. Me? I just steamed it for a few minutes until it was bright green and a little tender-crisp. Don’t want that army-green mush. Learned that lesson the hard way, believe me. Then the chicken. Thank goodness I had some leftover cooked chicken from last night. If I’d had to cook chicken from scratch today, this whole operation might have been scrapped for takeout. Just shredded that up. Easy peasy.
Now for the sauce. This is where things can go sideways fast if you’re not careful. Melted some butter in a saucepan, maybe a couple of tablespoons. Whisked in some flour, about the same amount as the butter, to make a roux, I guess that’s what they call it. Cooked that for a minute – gotta get rid of that raw flour taste, you know? Then slowly, and I mean slowly, whisked in some milk. Probably about two cups. I’ve made more lumps in white sauce than I care to admit. But today, miracle of miracles, it was smooth! Once it thickened up a bit, I stirred in a boatload of cheese – cheddar, mostly, whatever shredded stuff was lying around in the cheese drawer. Salt, pepper, bit of garlic powder, maybe a touch of onion powder. Nothing gourmet, just good old-fashioned flavor that makes things taste good.
Assembly time. Greased up my trusty 9×13 baking dish. Drained the potatoes, dumped them into the dish, spreading them out. Scattered the cooked chicken and the steamed broccoli florets over the top of the potatoes. Then poured that cheesy sauce all over everything, making sure it got into all the nooks and crannies. You want every bite to have some of that creamy goodness. More cheese on top, obviously. Because why not? A little extra cheddar, maybe some parmesan if I’m feeling fancy, which today I was not. Just more cheddar.
Into the preheated oven it went, around 375°F, or 190°C for you folks across the pond. Set the timer and prayed a little. The house started to smell pretty good after about 20 minutes, which is always a good sign. Let it bake until it was all hot and bubbly and the cheese on top was melted and a little golden brown. Probably took about 30 to 35 minutes, something like that. I just eyeball it mostly.
And you know what? After what felt like an eternity, it came out looking pretty damn good. Bubbly, golden, smelling like heaven. Or at least, smelling like something very edible, which on days like today, is a massive win. Let it sit for a few minutes before I scooped it onto plates. Otherwise, it’s like molten lava. Kids grumbled a bit, as they do about anything that isn’t pizza or chicken nuggets, but they ate it. That’s the real test, isn’t it? Not some fancy food critic, but whether your own offspring will actually consume it without staging a full-blown protest.
So yeah, chicken broccoli and potato casserole. It ain’t changing the world. It ain’t winning any culinary awards. But it got us through another chaotic day. It was filling, it was cheesy, and it used up stuff that needed using. And sometimes, that’s all you need. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. One less thing to worry about, until tomorrow, anyway. Now, about that mountain of dishes… that’s a battle for another time.
