My Stepmom’s Casserole Still Feels Like Home Decades Later

The kitchen is warm and a little steamy, perfumed with a buttery-chickeny scent I know well. I’m focused and in the zone, assembling a care package for my daughter’s elementary school principal, who is finally home after being hit by a car while riding his bike last year and spending months in the hospital and a rehab facility. I’m making the same thing I’d want if I were returning home after a long ordeal—a dish that tastes like home itself (and one that happens to hold well and reheat like a dream)—Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole.

I tuck the Pyrex casserole dish into my delivery basket, along with a container of tomato, cucumber, and onion salad, and a tub of brownie bites. The crowning touch: a tube of Pillsbury biscuits so he can enjoy leftover casserole over biscuits for breakfast the next morning.

Poppy Seed Chicken will always remind me of my stepmom, Ginger. From the ages of 6 through 16, I spent every other weekend and some holidays with my dad and Ginger. It was a solid routine from which we rarely deviated, and while many things in my life were chaotic, it was a constant I could count on. And almost as predictably, I could count on having Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole on Friday nights at their house.

Walking into Dad and Ginger’s big, well-appointed brick home (the house Ginger grew up in) felt so different than coming home to any of the many apartments that I shared with my mom. It was inviting, if slightly intimidating, but one thing that made it just a little bit more comfortable was being met with the smell of bubbling chicken-y goodness that meant we’d be having one of my favorite dinners—Ginger’s Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole.

I can still vividly remember the laminated index card on which Ginger kept the recipe, but why she needed it is a mystery, since the ingredients and steps were deep in her bones. It was a simple combination of cooked, shredded chicken; cream of chicken or cream of celery soup; sour cream; and poppy seeds, which were mixed together and spooned into a casserole dish before being topped with Ritz crackers tossed in (god bless it) butter.

The dish was often served over rice or pasta, but Ginger always served hers with boxed mashed potatoes and canned asparagus. It was a soft, homey meal. The culinary equivalent of my dad’s worn recliner—cushiony, easy, and nap-inducing. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back, it was our version of comfort food.

In addition to teaching me several casserole recipes and how to sew, Ginger also modeled how to show up for people who needed help. If she knew someone who had just had surgery or lost a loved one, she was right there with a staggering amount of Tupperware loaded with food. She’d do more than drop off a dish; she’d come right in and sweep the kitchen or fold the laundry or just yap for hours with someone who desperately needed company. I have to say, even though these days we’re not always ideologically on the same page, I learned that lesson from her, and it’s one that I hold very dear.

Of course, eventually, I grew up and went to college and to culinary school, both of which taught me that casseroles were uncool at best. I’ll admit, it didn’t take much convincing, as I was ready to shed my upbringing for whatever was going to come next, and casseroles weren’t part of that plan. Stodgy, old-fashioned, and using processed ingredients, they represented the antithesis of the kind of seasonal, local food I was learning to appreciate.

It wasn’t until I started a family of my own and began cooking for them that I reached for the comfort food of my childhood. I’m not sure what brought me back to the casserole after all that time—doing so felt pre-programmed, almost like destiny, though that’s probably a stretch.

Introducing my husband and kids to Poppy Seed Chicken reminded me how much I genuinely loved it, just the way I remembered it. Now, when I revisit the dish, I might add garlic or some sautéed mushrooms (culinary school habits die hard), but I’m just as likely to make it exactly how it appeared on that laminated index card and love every bite, especially the next morning when I serve the reheated leftovers with a fluffy, freshly baked biscuit (another move I picked up from Ginger, who always made a double portion for just that purpose).

These days, Poppy Seed Chicken is my go-to dish for celebrations, condolences, and any time someone needs a little extra love. I like to pair it with a big salad to keep things fresh and balanced, but otherwise, I make no changes to the dish that gave me so much comfort throughout my childhood. Bringing it to my daughter’s principal, I was reminded of that comfort and hopeful that it would convey the same feelings, all these years later, to someone who needed it.

Ginger’s Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole

Ingredients

• nonstick cooking spray
• 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and shredded
• 1 (10.5-ounce) can cream of chicken soup
• 1 (16-ounce) container sour cream
• 1 tablespoon poppy seeds
• 1 sleeve buttery round crackers (such as Ritz), crushed
• 1 stick (8 tablespoons) salted butter, melted

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) and spray a 9×13-inch casserole dish with cooking spray.
2. In a small mixing bowl, combine cracker crumbs and butter. In a separate bowl, combine shredded chicken, cream of chicken soup, sour cream, and poppy seeds. Spoon mixture into prepared baking dish, and top with buttery crumbs.
3. Bake in the preheated oven, uncovered, until heated through, about 30 minutes. Serve hot. Store leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 3 days.