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Chicken ’n’ Chips — The Hotdish That Held Us Together

The funeral was at the United Methodist Church — the same church where Kevin and I married, the same church where Marlene sang in the choir and organized the Christmas pageant and brought rolls to every potluck since 1975. The pews were half-full — COVID distancing, masks, the strange geometry of pandemic grief where you can't stand close enough to comfort and the six feet between mourners feels like six miles.

The church was full of food. The Iowa tradition — grief arrives with casseroles, the community response to death is cooking, and the cooking is the condolence card you can eat. Tuna casserole, chicken hotdish, Jell-O salad (three varieties), brownies, rolls, a ham, potato salad, and more tater tot hotdish than any funeral should hold, each dish brought by someone who knew Marlene and loved her and expressed that love the only way Iowa knows how, which is with a 9x13 pan and a prayer.

Kevin came with the kids. Noah was quiet — the Noah quiet, the processing quiet, the quiet that will become music later, in his room, in the dark, the saxophone playing the grief that his voice can't. Emma cried openly. She cried at the church and at the house and at the table and she didn't apologize because Emma doesn't apologize for feeling things, and her crying was the gift that nobody else could give, the permission to grieve out loud in a family that grieves in whispers.

Jack stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He looked at the empty bed, the quilt folded, the rocking chair still angled toward where Marlene had been. He said, "Can I take some soil from Grandma's garden?" I said yes. He went to the garden. He dug a handful of soil from the spot where the sunflowers grew. He put it in a jar. He labeled it: "Grandma Marlene's garden, January 2021." He put the jar in his backpack. He carried it home. The soil from her garden is in his room now, next to his other jars, next to the soil from our garden and the soil from his birthday jar. The collection of dirt that is the collection of love that is the collection of everywhere Jack has been held by the earth and the people who taught him to love it.

There was more tater tot hotdish at that funeral than I have ever seen in one room, and every single pan of it was an act of love — someone’s hands in a kitchen, someone choosing to show up the only way they knew how. I couldn’t bring myself to make Marlene’s exact dishes, not yet, but I needed to make something in that spirit when we got home — something warm and undemanding that the kids could eat without being asked to feel anything they weren’t ready for. This Chicken ’n’ Chips casserole is exactly that: the kind of dish you set on a table and let people serve themselves from, the kind that says I was here, I cooked, I cared, without needing a single word.

Chicken ’n’ Chips

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 cans (10.5 oz each) condensed cream of chicken soup, undiluted
  • 1/2 cup sour cream
  • 1/4 cup whole milk
  • 1 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 3 cups cooked chicken, shredded or cubed
  • 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
  • 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese, divided
  • 2 cups ridged potato chips, lightly crushed
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (optional, for garnish)

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with nonstick spray.
  2. Mix the sauce. In a large bowl, stir together the cream of chicken soup, sour cream, milk, onion powder, garlic powder, and black pepper until smooth and combined.
  3. Add the filling. Fold in the shredded chicken, thawed peas, and 3/4 cup of the shredded cheddar cheese. Stir until everything is evenly coated.
  4. Transfer to dish. Spread the chicken mixture evenly into the prepared baking dish, smoothing it into the corners.
  5. Top with chips and cheese. Scatter the remaining 1/4 cup cheddar over the top, then cover evenly with the crushed potato chips.
  6. Bake. Bake uncovered for 28—32 minutes, until the casserole is bubbling around the edges and the chip topping is golden and crisp.
  7. Rest and serve. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 820mg

Diane Holloway
About the cook who shared this
Diane Holloway
Week 252 of Diane’s 30-year story · Des Moines, Iowa
Diane is a forty-six-year-old insurance adjuster in Des Moines who grew up on a four-hundred-acre farm that her family had worked since 1908. When commodity prices crashed and the bank came calling, the Webers lost the farm — four generations of heritage sold at auction. Diane left with her mother's casserole recipes and a cast iron skillet and rebuilt her life in the city. She cooks Midwest comfort food because it tastes like home, even when home doesn't exist anymore.

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