Having been a young child in the Sixties, it’s an instinctive fear, every time I’m in a dinner situation where everyone contributes, that someone will show up with some sort of vegetable baked in Cream of Mushroom Soup. Maybe topped by those horrible chrome yellow crunchy things. (What were those? Onions? Potato sticks?)
In the Sixties, somebody’s mother always made this dish. And it haunts a certain generation to this day.
My friends are all gourmet cooks who tend to buy organic and local.
But still the fear persists.
Here’s hoping your Thanksgiving is Campbell’s Soup-Less!