About 30 years ago, I got married. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve been a Newlywed. But some memories will never fade.
Like how much I love green bean casserole. I have since a friend of mine made some for me in college. I’m half-Asian. I grew up with fried rice and noodles. And very few casseroles. I would occasionally encounter one at my Aunt Jessie’s. My dad’s side of the family are from Kansas and are salt of the Earth people. But our trips to visit family back in the day were expensive. And therefore, few and far between. As a result, I never had green bean casserole until I left to go off to college.
An obsession was born. I liked it classic and I liked to mess around with the recipe even back then. Adding in chicken or changing the mushroom broth up. All of that. It wouldn’t be until the latest decade of my life before I would have another green bean casserole revelation. Making home made mushroom stock. And homemade cream of mushroom soup. Using fresh green beans and just fresh ingredients all the way around. This adult version taste nothing like the classic and a thousand times better.
Because of my love for green bean casserole, I made it ALL THE TIME. And my husband ate it. After a year into my green bean casserole obsession, my husband FINALLY told me he hated green bean casserole. That he threw it out when I wasn’t looking. But he never said anything because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. And he thought he could ride out my obsession, but the sheer amount of green bean casserole I was making was making that possibility impossible. So he came clean.
And that’s when I knew he loved me beyond reason. Well, I knew even before that but this cinched it, for sure.
I don’t make green bean casserole so much anymore. Just once a year. At Thanksgiving.