What comes to mind when you hear the word “casserole”? Convenience? Mystery? Potluck? Comfort? For me, casseroles conjure all these things.

As a child, I approached any casserole that wasn’t made by my mom with skepticism. Corningware concoctions by unknown cooks almost never made it onto my plastic potluck plate. But some family-favorite casseroles still have a place on my table. None is more gratifying and full of memories than the meal we dubbed “church carpet casserole.” The name requires some explanation.

The dish is most commonly called “cheesy broccoli rice casserole.” My mom first tried it at a potluck and promptly poached the recipe from a friend. The main ingredients flecked the casserole with white, green and orange, a marvelous mosaic of yum. It bore a striking resemblance to

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