No, there is no way in hell I’m kidding.

Between our ever deepening New Great Depression and minute-by-minute updates about the Emerging Pandemic, there has never been a better time to revisit this childhood classic.

It has to be the cheapest supper out there [except, of course, for fried bologna, and I have no doubt it shall, at some point, come to that]. It can be endlessly retrofitted. It will fill anyone up, and it will transport one back to those mythical days of innocence and ease.

Let’s start with the Sturdy Original, direct from Campbells’ own website:

Mid-Century Tuna Noodle Casserole

1 can (10 3/4 oz.) Campbell's® Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup
1/2 cup milk
1 cup cooked peas
2 tbsp. chopped pimentos
2 cans (about 6 oz. each) tuna, drained and flaked
2 cups hot cooked medium egg noodles 2 tbsp. dry bread crumbs 1 tablespoon butter OR margarine, melted

PREHEAT oven to 400°F.
MIX soup, milk, peas, pimiento, tuna and noodles in 1 1/2-qt. baking dish.
BAKE for 20 min.
STIR . Mix bread crumbs with butter. Sprinkle on top. Bake 5 min. or until hot.

Have some fun if you will:

Save some of the pimientos for mixing up your own sandwich spread [grated processed cheese food, mayo and chopped pimientos].
Add some diced onion.
And Real Men and Women eschew the bread crumbs and add a topping of crushed potato chips or…tinned French fried onion rings.

Before you know it, you really will believe you’re sitting at a turquoise formica kitchen table, crickets are merrily chirping outside and dad’s in the den with his Pabst.

Spare a Dime, Spoil a Child

Continuing merrily along with our New Depression routine of not working [though I was today, and yes!, at Third World rates], not checking bank balances, pretending there is NOT a lizard in my flat and contemplating mid-century ethnic and not so much cuisines…

Lentil soup. Old school. But I will provide the obvious tips for retrofitting it to almost any regional culture. And sorry about the pic, but the only thing lentil soup is not…is pretty.

Nothing soothes, fortifies, charms, fills one up as much as this. And, as we require, it is seriously dirt cheap. Not to mention, simple as hell to prepare.

Lentil Soup – Platonic Ideal Version

1 meaty ham bone or 1 large ham hock
6 cups water
1 1/2 cups dried lentils
2 cups sliced carrots, about 3 to 4 medium carrots
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped onion
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 bay leaf

Preparation:
In a stock pot or large kettle, combine ham bone, water, lentils, carrots, celery, onion, salt, sugar, pepper and bay leaf. Cover and bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer for about 1 hour, or until lentils are tender.
Take out ham bone or hock and remove meat. Chop meat and return to lentil soup. Remove bay leaf. Lentil soup serves 6.

Caveats: Yes, you can sauté the veggies in butter for a bit, and that does deepen the flavor. One might puree a third of it and add it back [or just cook it another half hour if you happen to be appliance-free]. You can add fresh or canned tomatoes, sliced kielbasa, even kale. Thyme or tarragon for the French version; cumin for Middle Eastern Vague; diced potatoes, marjoram and paprika for Central Europa.

More Peasant Food for the New Depression

So, now that I’ve slashed my rates to Third World levels, I wait, breath not baited, to see what comes to pass.

But back to Comfort Food, the least we should be doing here. Or the best.

One of my favourites from my impoverished university days was Stuffed Cabbage Rolls. Not the fancy ones, though they do lend themselves to infinite variations of ingredient and flavor. They also involve real cooking, several steps and much time spent in the kitchen. Just the thing for avoiding the pointless sending out of 200 more letters to translation agencies or the equally pointless obsessive checking of one’s bank balance.

Stuffed Cabbage Rolls

1 medium cabbage
1 ½ cups cooked rice
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp. butter [or oil]
1 lb. ground beef [the cheaper and fattier the better]
1 Egg
Salt and Pepper to taste
Herbs and spices as desired [some suggestions: thyme, marjoram, savory, allspice]
1 Garlic clove; minced
1 can (15-oz) tomato sauce
Sour cream

Remove core from cabbage.
Place in a large pot of boiling water to cover and blanch for 5 to 10 minutes until outer leaves are slightly wilted.
Drain, cool and separate leaves, cutting a V-shaped notch in each, removing the thick stems.
Sauté minced onion in 1 tablespoon butter.
Combine the meat, rice, onion, egg, salt, pepper, garlic and spices.
Mix thoroughly.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Place about 3 heaping tablespoons of meat and rice filling on each leaf.
Roll the leaf, tucking sides either inside or under.
Repeat with remaining leaves.
Place the cabbage rolls close together, seam side down, in a baking dish or Dutch oven.
Pour the tomato sauce, diluted with ½ cup water [or chicken broth], over the rolls.
Cover and bake in the oven for 1 1/2 hours. You can uncover for the last 10 or 15 minutes or so in order to help the sauce thicken up, but keep an eye on it so it doesn’t burn.

When serving, top each roll with a large dollop of sour cream.

Best served with large quantities of mashed potatoes of the smooth and creamy [NOT “smashed” or lumpy] sort.

Variations: a mixture of pork and beef can be used; a bit of brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce and/or lemon can be added to sauce for a sweet-sour tang

As much as one might be tempted to ask where all the work has gone, we know the question would be merely rhetorical.

As someone who has mostly worked in the “soft” fields – general business, marketing, tourism, academia and such – mine have gone the way of the global economy in general. I suppose those who smugly sneer that their business has been just fine are those who are smugly working in legal, IT and financial. The ever durable Unholy Trinity that would prosper even in the worst of times.

In my case, I am rather certain that some of the jobs I had been doing are now being done by members of a small agency that used to keep me busy. Translating into English, not their native language. Bad form, of course, and clearly bad results, but everyone has to put food on the table.

Beyond that, there has been a marked uptick in agencies from China, Russia and such swooping in with obviously European end clients offering jobs at, oh, one or two cents a word. And I’m quite sure they are happily awarding said jobs to non-native English speakers or non-translators.

Whatever. Having come up with no other alternative, I’ve decided to simply join them. To embrace the New Depression and behave like a simple outlier, slashing prices and bending over until all those other low-balling “translators” start screaming at me for “demeaning the profession.”

In the meantime, I think I might entertain myself by posting some of my favorite Depression recipes. Changing my POV, fully embracing my inner peasant. Irish stew would be an appropriate start.

Here is a most traditional variation, made with mutton [CHEAP!] instead of lamb. Feel free to play with the ingredients, tarting it up with marjoram or thyme, parsnips and parsley.

Irish Stew

2 ½ lbs. boned mutton
4 large potatoes
2 large onions
3 or 4 medium carrots
2 cups watersalt and pepper

Cut the meat into fair size chunks. Peel the vegetables and slice thickly. Use a pot with a well-fitting lid and put in the ingredients in layers, starting and finishing with potatoes. Pour in the water and season to taste. Cover and put on a very low heat for about 2 ½ hours until the meat is tender and the potatoes have thickened the liquid. If you’re feeling flush and can afford lamb, cut the cooking time back to 1 ½ hours.