Snorkel casserole

So last night, I went with my dear friend Maryann and Julia out for dinner.  Just the three of us, just to catch up.  We had a marvelous time, as we always do, laughing, talking.  We had a good meal and suddenly the evening was over.  And here is my question:  when did a bowl of spicy Shanghai noodles with crisp vegetables and a delicious glass (admittedly an oversized one) of deep red Sangiovese wine suddenly cost 35 bucks, 40 with a tip?  Seriously, I remember when 4o dollars was my grocery bill for the week.  Don’t laugh we all remember those days, the days where cheap pork steaks riddled with fat, after being marinated in soy sauce and cooked in garlic, were a gourmet treat, where we had fifty different ways to prepare Kraft dinner, where soup could be stretched by constantly adding water to the kettle! All kidding aside, I remember running out of money at the end of the semester at university and eating peanut butter and jam sandwiches for lunch and for dinner for a month till school ended.  

But you know, I imagine every family has a story of a crazy recipe that your mother served that somehow became a family favourite.  In our case, it was something my mother called snorkel casserole.  I have no idea where the name came from except maybe she dreamt it up while looking down at hungry faces standing in the kitchen fresh in from playing outside.  I asked my mother once about it and she remembers it clearly.  There was absolutely nothing in the cupboards to make for dinner and three days till payday and there she was faced with two young children and my father to feed that evening.  So with the creativity of all mothers, she rummaged through the cupboards and threw together a casserole. And what a crazy combination it was:  a couple of sliced onions on the bottom of the disk, some frozen peas tossed in, a couple of potatoes sliced and put in the pan, a handful of white rice and strangely a can of Campbell’s vegetable soup and a half a can of water poured over it all.  Mom fried some breakfast sausages found at the back of the freezer and laid them in rows over the top and baked it all for an hour.  When we pulled up our chairs for dinner, my mother announced that tonight for dinner we were having snorkel casserole so dive in. And you know what it was really tasty; it quickly became my brother’s favourite dinner and even now he will make it as an adult for himself, long after my mother stopped.  I always laugh at that dish, but I know every family has a similar story, a story of bare cupboards and your mother’s ingenuity and a new family favourite is born.  Feeding your guy on a dime and prayer.  Last night I laughed to think how fortunate I am right now that I can toss down two twenty dollar bills for nothing more than a bowl of noodles and fermented grapes.  Times of changed but I know the day will come when my cupboards are looking equally bare and payday is a few days away and I pray that I will be as committed, ingenious and resourceful as my mother and that I can do it as cheerfully as she did, smiling, as she put snorkel casserole down on the kitchen table.