My Grandma’s Thanksgiving Casserole Has a Crunchy, Buttery Topping You’ll Dream About

It was sometime in the early 2000s, and I was sitting at the little bistro table in my grandma’s kitchen in wine country, the day before Thanksgiving. There wasn’t a chill in the air like I was used to in the Midwest, and I swear I could smell the California sunshine even through all the aromas of festive food preparations.

It was a special occasion to spend the holiday at my grandma’s house halfway across the country, and we were all busy preparing for a relatively big crowd that year. The kitchen was buzzing, everyone with a different task at hand. 

At this point in time, I had never tasted my grandma’s signature vegetable casserole, since my mom tended to make green beans almondine. I remember my Uncle Kenny adamantly declaring that no one else was allowed to cut the vegetables for the casserole—only my grandma was allowed to do it.

To him, this casserole was so near and dear to his heart that it simply wouldn’t be the same if even the knife cuts were different than what he was used to. That’s when I knew this had to be something special. 

My grandma was in her late 80s by this time, so standing up at the counter would have been too much. She sat next to me at that tiny little table and meticulously sliced carrots, celery, and green beans into pieces no bigger than maybe half an inch, and delicately tossed them into a saucepan to start the recipe. All these years later, I am so glad I watched and learned.

How to Make My Grandma’s Creamy Vegetable Casserole 

As it turns out, my uncle wasn’t wrong. Slicing the vegetables to the correct size was one of the keys to success for this vegetable casserole. Making sure each of the elements is cut into pieces somewhere between a quarter and a half an inch ensures that they will cook evenly, and each forkful will scoop up a little bit of everything. 

This recipe has a couple of genius twists, and the first is how the vegetables are cooked. They are initially steamed in a little bit of water along with salt, pepper, and thyme. This helps soften the vegetables just enough so when the final dish comes out of the oven, they are perfectly al dente. 

And that flavor-infused cooking liquid does not go to waste—through the steaming process, you have essentially created your own vegetable broth that’s then used to dilute the cream of mushroom soup for the sauce. 

Grandma’s Unique Topping

The other genius twist in this recipe is the delightfully crispy topping. There’s not a fried onion in sight here. Instead, the herbaceous crunch comes from crushed Rice Chex cereal. 

All you have to do is scoop the cereal into a zip-top bag and give it a series of whacks with a mallet or roll over it a few times with a rolling pin. (Of course, that year, my grandma had to execute this step as well, lest someone else crush the cereal wrong!)

This Thanksgiving, I think I will give my three-year-old daughter a chance to participate in the preparations and put her in charge of this task. She will love it, and it gives me a chance to tell her a little bit about her great-grandma while we cook together.

The cereal is then lightly toasted in a pan with melted butter and tossed with thyme and onion powder. I love how this recipe doesn’t skimp on the topping. There is a nice layer to cover the entire surface of the baking dish and every bite comes with that important crunch.

Make It a Meal