Worms

It has been a few days since I have written a blog, but rest assured I have not been slacking off in the kitchen.

On Sunday I picked up two dozen additional ears of corn from our CSA; I spent Monday morning shucking corn, blanching it, cooling it, cutting it, and bagging it. I netted seven one-pound bags of corn, and one half-pound bag. I am embarrassed to say I still have four ears of corn hanging out in my fridge from Sunday evening. I can't remember why I didn't cook it for dinner Monday night as planned; Tuesday and Wednesday nights I was not home for dinner, so the corn sat in the fridge. I grew up in a family that took corn - and the freshness thereof - very seriously. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't ever remember corn hanging out in my mom's kitchen for more than a day. My wayward corn is headed for the soup pot later today.

Corn isn't the only thing my family took seriously growing up, though. I mentioned Worms a few posts ago. I had a half a quart jar of tomato puree that did not go in the water bath last Thursday when I canned tomatoes, and wanted to use it up. So I used that jar, and a full quart, to make my first batch of Worms. I've been eating worms and hearing about worms my entire life. My mom's paternal grandmother is the first to have made the dish. When my grandpa was in kindergarten, it was customary for students to go home at noon to eat dinner. Upon his return to school one day after eating, my grandpa's teacher asked him what he'd eaten for lunch. "Worms," was his reply. The teacher said, "Lee Dunn, don't lie to me. What did you have for lunch?" My grandfather was probably a little bit baffled, and replied, honestly, "Worms." He was promptly sent home for the rest of the day. I wonder what my great-grandmother thought. (And whether she shared her recipe with the teacher.)

Worms must have originally been a leftover dish. Growing up, my mom used the odds and ends of whatever noodles she had on hand. While I had several full boxes of noodles in my kitchen on Sunday, I opted to use a blend. I strayed from the family recipe by using whole wheat noodles instead of enriched white noodles.

So, without further ado, I give you: WORMS.
Ingredients:

• Pasta (I used 1/4 box of thin spaghetti, and 1/3 box of elbow macaroni. Use what you have. Unless you have no pasta in your house at all, do not go to the store for this!)

• Ham (use what you have or what you can buy. We often had worms growing up around Easter when there was leftover ham in the fridge. I considered buying sandwich slices, because I've never bought any other kind of ham, but ended up with a 3/4 lb hunk of smoked ham that was very yummy. My grocery store did not have any organic ham, so this poor pig was full of antibiotics, genetically modified corn, imitation smoke flavor, and nitrites. But never having had nitrite free (or antibiotic free) ham, it tasted like ham to me.)
• Tomatoes - I used six cups. See below for discussion on the "correct" amount. My mom uses the tomato sauce I made at her house last Monday. I used the tomato puree I made on Thursday. It doesn't really matter, although chunks of tomato are a good thing. Ideally, my mom and I would get together and use some of each of our sauces. But right now the chunky sauce is in her basement and the puree is in my kitchen cupboard, and it's an hour's drive from my kitchen to her basement.

• Colby cheese. I suppose you could use some other kind of cheese, but we've always used Colby. I had muenster and farmer's cheese in my fridge but made a point of buying local (but not organic) Colby since I had to buy the ham anyway. No sense in messing with a good thing.
• Salt and pepper to taste. Pepper is an essential ingredient in worms. Salt is less important, because the ham and cheese have plenty of salt in them. But you really do need the pepper.
• Butter. Apparently my great-grandmother put a whole stick of butter in the middle of the dish. My mom dots the top with butter. I didn't add any and my worms were not as crispy on the top, but, frankly, until I called my mom to get the "recipe," I had no idea that there was butter in the dish, and I decided to skip it because I did not want to open a new stick of butter. I was having a lazy moment, what can I say? (I didn't actually need the recipe for worms - just the baking temperature and time)
  
• Buttered toast. I have to be honest here. You could probably use whole wheat toast, and I wouldn't blame you a bit, but I think the dish needs white toast to have the right consistency.

• Cook your noodles. I don't believe in al dente noodles. I like my noodles soft.
• Preheat oven to 350.
• Slice the ham and cheese.

• Spray a casserole dish. (I chose to slather soft butter in my casserole dish instead.)
• Layer the noodles, tomato sauce, ham, and cheese (and butter if you desire) in the casserole dish.

(I don't know why it didn't occur to me to cut the ham into smaller pieces.)

• Top each layer with pepper, and salt if desired.

I fit three layers in my casserole dish. I'd give you its measurements, but the dish is still in my fridge with the rest of the worms (today's lunch). I skipped the ham on my top layer - it was noodles, sauce, pepper, and cheese. The cheese/pepper should be on top.

• Place pats of butter on top, if desired.
• Place casserole dish on top of a cookie sheet, or use aluminum foil in your oven to catch spills.
• Bake, covered, for 30 minutes.
• Remove cover and bake 30-45 more minutes, until cheese on top is melted, bubbly, and maybe turning brown and crispy. (I forgot to take a picture, sorry!)
  
• Let sit for a few minutes before eating.
• Serve on plates, with a piece of buttered toast. Use the toast to sop up the juice. If you like juicy worms.
  

My mom introduced this dish to my dad's family. In spite of its name, it was a great hit with my paternal grandfather. I remember the last time he came over for Worms before he passed away. Never one to shy away from saying what he was thinking, my grandpa declared, "I think worms used to be a lot juicier." He was disappointed (and my mom's feelings were probably little bit hurt!), but still ate a big helping. My mom has always struggled to make sure that her Worms are juicy enough for my dad's side of the family. (This is why we immediately thought of Worms when our first attempt at canning tomatoes last week ended up so watery. We cooked the rest of the tomatoes down more, and decided to label the first jar "For Worms.")

So when I asked my husband how he liked his Worms (I think his only previous experience with the dish was that meal with my grandpa) he commented that they were good, but a little too juicy for his taste.

Having never heard such a critique of worms before, my mom was flabbergasted, and had to put my dad on the phone so he could hear the story too. The morals of the story are:
in spite of having lived in Kentucky for three years, I certainly did not marry a relative; and
when your teacher asks you what you had for lunch, think carefully about how you phrase your response.