Bring on the nostalgia.
Growing up, my dad would regale me with tales of his restaurant line-cooking days in his 20s. There were stories of working busy brunch shifts, making batch after batch of Hollandaise sauce, getting scars on his thumb from shucking clams, and watching the head chef add banana liqueur to the fish of the day (don't try this at home!). I loved hearing about his restaurant days and having him teach me knife skills and other classical cooking techniques.
But when it came time for him to cook our family dinners, he wasn't making fancy flambés or elaborate three-course breakfasts. He kept it super simple and made comforting dishes I still crave today. Among them, there's one that I think about (and crave) the most-and occasionally make when I'm feeling particularly homesick. It's a comforting casserole that's unlike anything else we grew up eating, yet so good.
I grew up in New Jersey, not the Midwest, so casseroles were not really in our vocabulary or dinner rotation. Yet, he'd make a broccoli casserole that is now my definition of comfort food. Since it was my favorite, my dad would make this when it was just him and me (my mom and sister were allergic to the breadcrumbs). And while it's technically a side, I'd usually ignore all the other food on my plate and just stick to the broccoli.
It could not be simpler to make. His "recipe" is not so much a recipe as it is an approximation of ingredients-measure with your heart! Rather than the broccoli casseroles that start with a can of soup, or include rice, chicken, or intricate cheese sauces, this one is just five ingredients and done in under 30 minutes. Broccoli, softened cream cheese, and breadcrumbs are the basic foundations of the dish, and everything else is optional to elevate it even more.
Creamy, cheesy, and crunchy, it's endlessly comforting. The combination of broccoli and cheese is just an instant winner, and the buttery breadcrumbs make everything better. These days, when I riff on this recipe, I add sautéed garlic and onions to the broccoli or a little Parmesan or Pecorino to the breadcrumbs. My dad swears a pinch of nutmeg is necessary, so I always add that too. Serve it alongside chicken or pasta, or make the whole casserole for yourself (my fave) on days when you need something that tastes like a warm hug.
Ingredients:
Directions:
Tip: You can use another small casserole dish or an 8- or 9-inch skillet.