• Home
• About Nathan
• Free Stories
• Contact

Almost Dinner

MRS. PENNY PARKER of the WSCS has shared the following story and recipe from the Willow Mills New Millennium Cookbook.

“When I was little, my dad worked for Studebaker’s in South Bend. There was a lot of labor trouble up there and he was out of work, either laid off or on strike, several months out of every year. But I had an aunt who worked for Campbell’s Soup in Chicago. So once a month we would drive up to Chicago where she would load us up with unlabeled cans of soup, which the employees were allowed to take home.

“There were seven in our family, so a meal of soup consisted of about 5 cans which we often made into a casserole. We never knew until the soup was opened what kind of soup it was. Sometimes we would get five cans that were the same kind, but more often, we were inventing something out of very different kinds of ingredients. As a result, we always said that if you had five cans of condensed soup, you almost had dinner.

“We actually invented a recipe for a casserole that has been a favorite for years in my family that includes ground beef, noodles, and of course, five cans of different kinds of Campbell’s Condensed soups. We’ve come to call it ‘Almost Dinner.’”

Almost Dinner

• 2 lbs. Pasta (we like macaroni, but noodles are also a favorite)
• 2 lbs. Ground Beef
• 1 small Onion
• 2 stalks of Celery
• 2 large Carrots
• 2 cans Cream of Mushroom Soup
• 2 cans of Vegetable Soup
• 1 can of Tomato Soup
• Potato Chips

Boil up the pasta. Brown the burger, onions, celery, and carrots. Season with your favorite spices. Drain the burger and pasta and mix together with the soup in a large casserole. Crumble potato chips over the top and bake in a pre-heated 350 oven for 45 minutes. Get everybody a big plate and ladle it on.

The Monte Carlo Supper Club

TIMMY STACKHOUSE missed the hippie era. By a longshot. He was born in the 70s. Before he was in high school in the 80s, all the revolutions that could be started had already been ended. Drugs had come and gone by the time he was a teen. Free sex was a thing of the past. Long hair was out. There really wasn’t much to rebel against. All he could see ahead of him was taking over the family farm out on Co. Rd. 200, or fighting his three younger brothers for it. He was an upstanding member of the Future Farmers of America. But he just wasn’t quite satisfied.

One day in school as he was watching through the door of the Home Economics classroom waiting for his girlfriend to come out, he was startled by Principal Richter laying a not too gentle hand on his shoulder. “Someone with such an interest in cooking should have more direct experience of it,” the principal said.

“It’s not the cooking,” Timmy explained. “I’m just waiting for my…”

“Before you get in more trouble for loitering in the halls,” the principal interrupted, “I think you had better retrace your words and agree with me.” Timmy looked up at the principal suddenly realizing he had just been busted. School rules were clear. Just because he had gotten out of class a few minutes early didn’t mean he could stand around in the halls. All he had wanted to do was walk Carol home, holding her hand. But Timmy had learned that most of the time things went easier if he just went along with whatever the authority in charge was telling him to do.

“Yes sir,” he answered. “I’d sure love to learn to cook.”

“What a splendid idea,” Mr. Richter responded. “In fact, I think Miss Sullivan could help you with that.” And with those words Mr. Richter did the unthinkable and ushered Timmy into the Home Economics classroom where the girls were just putting away the dishes they had used. Before Timmy could fully comprehend, he had been enrolled in Miss Sullivan’s 4-H Foods summer program.

You might think Indiana is a little provincial, but even though they now offer boys Home Economics and girls Shop, they still don’t mix the sexes in those classes. Timmy saw his summer wasting away before his eyes. But you didn’t argue with Mr. Richter. Even if he was technically overstepping his bounds as a principal, he was a highly respected educator among the parents who would all side with him in any punishment brought on their kids.

And so began Timmy’s introduction to cooking. Much to his surprise, he discovered that he liked it. He learned herbs and spices, cooking temperatures, meat cuts, and pastry making. Up to this time the most he’d ever done was bake cookies with his mother. But now he found himself preparing entire meals, and displaying a knack for setting an attractive table, too. About mid-way through the summer Miss Sullivan sat Timmy down and told him about an opportunity that would change Timmy’s life forever. The host of the Homemaker’s hour on WRSW television in Warsaw was inviting members of various 4-H Clubs to appear on her show over the summer to demonstrate what they were cooking. Miss Sullivan had chosen Timmy as her club’s delegate. He was to demonstrate one of his favorite recipes on-air in August.

Timmy was petrified.

Through an incredible amount of coaxing and prodding he finally arrived at a simple demonstration that he was sure he could do: three simple tomato salads for summer. He would use one that was a simple marinade, one that was grilled, and one that was carved like a jack-o-lantern and stuffed with tuna salad especially for kids. He’d made that one once for his little brothers and they loved it.

Miss Sullivan helped him write his script and practice the salads over and over in front of ever-expanding audiences of his club-mates, parents, teachers, and once before the town council. At last the big day arrived. Timmy had all his ingredients prepared, measured, and sitting in individual glass bowls. There was a rubber scraper for each bowl so that none would be used more than once. Serving plates were ready for each salad. Timmy wheeled his cart into the television studio with confidence. He was given no prep time, nor any chance to worry when he got to the studio. The producer got him set up on the kitchen set and Jane Harmon, the hostess of the show, walked into the room just after the lights came on. She started a friendly conversation with him and then asked him to just show the demo as she sat and watched.

The demonstration was going fabulously well. Mrs. Harmon, Timmy’s mom, and Miss Sullivan sat in folding chairs in front of him as he whipped together his three salads. Then he got to the last ingredient, scraping the tuna salad into the jack-o-lantern tomato, and it happened. There was one too few rubber scrapers on his table. He had used them all. Miss Sullivan had been very clear about never using the same scraper twice in a demonstration, but the tuna had to be gotten out of the bowl somehow. Timmy upended the bowl over the tomato, then stuck his finger in it and wiped the bowl clean as the tuna went into the tomato. Jane Harmon broke out in laughter to which Timmy’s next response was to look for a non-existent paper towel to wipe his finger on, hesitate a moment, then stick it in his mouth and lick it off.

“Even I can’t wait to try this salad,” he quipped and the red light on the camera in front of him blinked out as the show went to commercial.

Mrs. Harmon raved about the demonstration and suggested that Timmy should think of a career in food preparation, especially if he could teach somewhere. Students would love him.

And that planted the seed. Timmy’s salad demonstration at the county fair won him a championship and sent him to Indianapolis to compete in the State Fair. And the bug had bitten him good. Instead of going to college after high school, Timmy went to cooking school. He was hired by a top restaurant in Chicago right out of school and became the assistant chef there. But the big city just wasn’t what Timmy was cut out for. Just after his 30th birthday, he moved his family back here to Willow Mills and took over the abandoned Moose Lodge out on South River Road, turning it into a supper club with music in the evenings and a dance floor. And he brought with him some of his own specialties, like the Jonathan Halladay Prime Rib that he serves on Saturday nights in honor of the old Tally Ho Restaurant in Peru where he first encountered it.

Since the restaurant is only open evenings for dinner, and Sunday noon, Timmy put Mrs. Harmon’s other advice into effect and teaches cooking classes there during the day. Folks have come from as far away as Ft. Wayne for some of the classes, and his Holiday Cooking classes in November and December have a majority of repeat attendees in them.

Here’s a little of what you’ll find on the menu at the Monte Carlo Supper Club.

Monday is Pork Night

Each week Tim devises another incredible dish out of our favorite four-footed friend. Chops, tenderloins, roasts, and ham all find their way to these succulent dishes. Call to see what this week’s special is.

Tuesday is French Night

Tim gathered recipes from some of Paris’s top restaurants on his vacation last summer. So what if he doesn’t speak French. He cooks it like no one you’ve ever met. Call for this week’s dish du jour.

Wednesday is Chicken, Chicken, Chicken!

Fried, broasted, baked, and boiled. You’ve never tasted chicken so tender and delicious. Wednesday nights often have a theme including special music for dancing. Country, Swing, Rock and Roll. Tim has the right chicken recipe to get your feet tapping.

Thursday is Surf and Turf Night

From broiled Maine Rock Lobster Tails to Deep Fried Catfish, Tim’s going to cook up seafood to go with that aged-to-perfection Hoosier Cornfed Beefsteak. Get started on the weekend early with surfer music for your dancing enjoyment.

Friday is Freshwater Fish Night

Trout, walleye, croppies, and even smelt find their way from the fresh fisheries of the Midwest to the table at the Monte Carlo on Friday nights. This is fish like you’ve never had it before. And don’t forget the fourth Friday is always an All-You-Can-Eat Fish Fry with coleslaw and French fries on the side.

Saturday is Prime Rib Night

This is the night you’ve been waiting for all week. Tim fires up the slow cooker and puts a full, bone-in prime rib of beef on a bed of rock salt where it cooks for twelve hours. When you order, Tim slices off a full rib and tosses it on the flame grill to char both sides to your choice of doneness. This Jonathan Halladay cut and cooking method originated at the old Tally-Ho Restaurant in Peru. Tim has preserved the recipe here.

Family Dinner Sunday Noon

Sundays at noon, the entire Stackhouse clan gathers around the big table in the middle of the Monte Carlo for a family style Sunday Dinner. You can join them. Whatever Tim cooks, it’s the same for everyone. Turkey, ham, meatloaf, beef stroganoff, or even that rare vegetarian delicacy that you’d swear was packed with beef. Join us as we give thanks for this week, and ask guidance for the next.

---

Comments

Please feel free to send comments to the author at nathan@nathaneverett.com.