I can’t say that I identify as one. We weren’t really a casserole family, so to speak – I’ve never had anything against them, but they just didn’t serve as a big part of my eating experience growing up. When I think of enormous one-dish meals, I think of lasagna and mac and cheese (both of which my mom can seriously make the heck out of).
Here’s what happened: I was sick, and at the grocery store, and I wanted to buy a rotisserie chicken to make homemade chicken stock. But I also realized that in order to get to the chicken carcass (sorry), I would first need to pull off all the chicken and do something with it. I am dying of suspense.