A Minnesotan’s Guide to the Great Tater Tot Hotdish Debate

The Tater Tot hotdish disappeared fast around the table, like it always does. But as we cleared the plates, my aunt leaned in, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Did you notice she puts green beans in hers?”

That’s not Minnesotan for “she did it wrong.” It’s just…not the way we make it. And therein lies the beauty—and the bickering.

Tater Tot hotdish is Minnesota’s unofficial state dish. It’s our shared comfort food, our snowstorm staple, and our potluck MVP. Everyone’s grandma has a special version, and deep down, we’re all convinced she makes it best. 

That, dear reader, is the root of our timeless Tater Tot drama: Who makes it right? 

Corn only, or a full frozen medley? Cheese on top, or not at all? Tots lined in tidy rows, or tossed on by the fistful?

If you ever find yourself at a Minnesotan potluck, this guide will help you navigate the friendliest food fight around (and perhaps, discover where your loyalties lie).

First Off, What Exactly Is Tater Tot Hotdish?

Before we dig in, let’s address the one thing all Minnesotans agree on: Don’t call it a casserole. 

Technically, sure—Tater Tot hotdish is a type of casserole. But the difference is in the formula. A casserole can contain any number of ingredients. A true hotdish follows a specific blueprint:

• A protein: usually ground beef
• A creamy binder: likely from a Campbell’s can
• A starch: in this case, crispy Tater Tots
• Often, canned or frozen vegetables 
• And optional, but beloved by many: gooey, melted cheese

Beyond that? Anything goes. As one Redditor put it: “Don’t overthink it…The beauty of hotdish is its weekday ‘can-dump dinner’ ease, turning pantry and freezer staples into a hearty one-pan meal.”

But if you do want to overthink it, belly up and grab a plate. The ingredients that divide a state are coming in hot.

The Protein: Is It Still Hotdish Without Hamburger?

One thing most Minnesotans won’t mess with? Our mainstay meat: ground beef. It’s what most of us grew up with and still reach for. (Bonus points if it’s on sale—we’re practical folks.) 

That said, some cooks take creative liberties: sausage, chicken, even leftover Thanksgiving turkey. These swaps are usually permissible, especially if they help clear out a packed fridge.

Venture too far down the food chain, however—say, into lentils or tofu—and you’ll trigger a quiet panic among your peers. But don’t worry, this is Minnesota. We wouldn’t dream of saying anything. 

Instead, we’ll channel the spirit of this Redditor: “You bring a lentil tater tot hotdish to my house and I will politely eat it and tell you that ‘it’s different’ to your face.”

Still, “different” doesn’t always mean disqualified. When he was a congressman, Governor Tim Walz famously won the Minnesota congressional delegation’s annual Hotdish-Off competition (yes, it’s real—and yes, we’re proud) three times using bratwurst and turkey.

Cream-of-Something: But What?

Next up: the “Lutheran binder”—Campbell’s condensed cream soups. 

The first hotdish recipe ever printed (found in the circa-1930 Grace Lutheran Ladies Aid Cookbook) called for tomato soup, but that didn’t stick. Cream-based binders quickly took over, cementing their place in Minnesota kitchens and church cookbooks.

But which cream reigns supreme? That depends on whom you ask. 

• Team Cream of Mushroom: The traditionalists. They swear by the classic and will proudly (and politely) fight you on it.
• Team Whatever’s-in-the-Pantry: Cream of chicken, celery, mushroom––if it binds, it belongs. These folks are fueled by frugality, not tradition.
• Team “I Made This Myself”: These high achievers whip up their own sauce with butter, garlic, and just a dash too much ambition. But you didn’t hear that from me. 

And then there are the modifiers: the ones who spice up their binders with sour cream, Worcestershire, and even—gasp—a sprinkle of smoked paprika.

But easy now. As one concerned Redditor warned, “Spices hotter than ketchup aren’t allowed in Minnesota, though, sorry.”

The Starch: Controversial Thoughts on Tots

Ah, the tots: the crunchy crown jewel of the entire dish. They seal in moisture, provide structure, and turn goo into a golden delight. 

An important note: While you might spot sliced potatoes or noodles in other hotdishes, starch substitutions are prohibited here. Only tots will do! 

But how to arrange them? You’ve got options. 

Some folks line them up in neat rows—satisfying as snowblowing in ruler-straight rows after a blizzard. Others, true chaos agents, toss them on by the handful. And then there are the engineers, who stand their tots upright for maximum crunch.

You do you. But let’s be clear:

TOTS GO ON TOP. ALWAYS. 

Mix them in—or worse, put them on the bottom—and you’ll be left with a sad, soggy heartbreak. But don’t worry, we’ll still eat it. 

Veggies: Corn? Carrots? Peas? Chaos.  

Amid all that creamy, starchy goodness, a few nutrients sneak in. And since hotdish is rooted in Great Depression-era practicality, frozen or canned veggies are the gold standard. 

But which vegetables? Opinions run hot. 

Many are diehard corn-only fans (my mother included). Others swear by the classic medley of peas, carrots, and corn. The most divisive? Green beans. Some say they ruin the texture. Others insist it’s not hotdish without them.

Lines are drawn. Families divided. But once in a while, someone sees the light. 

One Redditor lovingly described nudging her husband away from corn-only hotdish toward corn-and-peas, prompting a supportive reply:

“A grown man with only corn in his hotdish is a heavy burden—you have the thanks of a grateful state for leading him in the right direction.”

Cheese: Essential or Culinary Crime?

Finally, we arrive at cheese. Folded in or melted on top in the final minutes of baking, it’s the most controversial ingredient of them all. That is, if you dare include it.

Cheese divides family reunions nearly as deeply as Vikings vs. Packers loyalties. Which feels appropriate, since our neighbors to the east have made a religion of it. 

Some insist the tots already do enough, and cheese is overkill. Others argue it’s as essential as saying “ope” when you bump into someone in a doorway.

But let the record show: Cheese triumphs at the highest levels of hotdish politics.  

Governor Walz used it in all three of his congressional hotdish wins. Senator Amy Klobuchar took top honors with pepperjack, breaking the dairy ceiling and our state’s “no spice” rule in one go.

Coincidence?  Doubt it. 

Whatever your position, just know someone at the table disagrees with you. 

In Conclusion: Everyone’s Grandma Is Right

You might use turkey instead of beef. Add peas. Skip the cheese. You might even—god help us—mix the tots in. But if it warms your heart and fills your belly, you’re doing just fine.

So make it how you like it and share it with your people. Just don’t call it a casserole. And if you’re ready to try it for yourself, my Uncle Todd’s take is hard to beat (though I probably shouldn’t put that in print). Here’s the recipe:

Uncle Todd’s Tater Tot Hotdish

Servings: 6–8
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 45–50 minutes
Total Time: ~1 hour 5 minutes

Ingredients

• butter or cooking spray
• 1 1/2 lbs (24 ounces) ground beef
• salt and pepper to taste
• seasoned salt (Optional)
• 1 medium yellow or white onion, diced
• 1 (26-ounce) can family-size cream of mushroom soup 
• 1 (12-ounce) bag frozen corn
• 1 (8-ounce) bag shredded Cheddar cheese
• 1 (32-ounce) bag frozen Tater Tots

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease a 9×11-inch baking dish.
2. In a large deep frying pan, brown the ground beef over medium heat. Season with salt, pepper, and seasoned salt. Transfer cooked beef to a bowl, leaving a bit of grease in the pan.
3. Add diced onion to the pan with the reserved grease. Sauté until caramelized.
4. Stir the cream of mushroom soup into the onions until combined. Add the cooked ground beef back to the pan. Stir in frozen corn and black pepper to taste. Heat on medium until hot but not boiling. Stir in shredded Cheddar cheese until melted and incorporated.
5. Pour the beef mixture into the prepared baking dish. Arrange Tater Tots in neat, even rows over the top—(symmetry is non-negotiable).
6. Bake in the preheated oven for 45 to 50 minutes, or until tots are golden brown and crisp.
7. Remove from oven and let rest for a few minutes before serving.