Cast Iron Skillet Chicken Casserole (Neiman Marcus Inspired)
Cornbread cooked in cast iron recipe. There’s really no other way to cook cornbread, is there? Buttery; soft-centered and crunchy-crusted, no-stick corn bread.
Cornbread cooked in cast iron recipe. There’s really no other way to cook cornbread, is there? Buttery; soft-centered and crunchy-crusted, no-stick corn bread.
Build Your Own Homemade Windshield / Windscreen for the Camp Cast Iron Dutch Oven. When cooking outdoors, this will be both a way to hold in the heat and to show off to passers by at the campsite.
It was the early 1990s. I had entered my 3rd decade of life at around the time when I started to appreciate family that I had otherwise taken for granted during my teen years and even into my early 20s. Not fully appreciative as many (meaning most) of my kin will likely keep to themselves but most of us 50-somethings know what kind of a snot we were in our 20-somethings…not you…but folks I know.
My Grandaddy lived with Grandma Ellamae on her farm in Franklin Parish, Louisiana. They lived a bit out from Wisner, Louisiana. You’d head down the 425 and turn left (if you’s heading down from West Monroe) just before the veteran’s memorial gazebo. Then, you’d go until you see the sweet potato field on the right. Then look left for the white house down the long drive along rows of cotton. If you end up at Turkey Creek Lake, you went too far. That’s where my Granddaddy lived.
Ellamae’s husband had passed a handful of years before the 90s and my Grandmamma that same year. Granddaddy and Grandma Ellamae married after reuniting at a high school reunion and the two picked up the flame that burned those years before World War II.
After Grandma Ellamae had come down with dementia and she was getting cared for down at the home, I’d visit Granddaddy more often.
He’d call once in a while and ask for a visit. Well, not really ask specifically for a visit. It’d be more like, “Sulae, figs are in on the tree. You’d better get you some picked before the birds get them all.” Or, “the Brat (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subaru_BRAT) is full of sweet ‘taters; come get you a box before they’re all gone.”
A day or two later, I’d drive out for a visit. We’d have an iced tea on the carport and in the patio’s shade and talk about the way things were and a bit of how things should be. He’d tell me stories that I ain’t even sure mamma knows about. Then, when the sun dropped low enough to let the heat in under the porch cover, he’d get up and give me a box of sweet potatoes he’d already gathered together. And, I head back home.
He was lonely in that old farmhouse way out there by himself. He really didn’t need to do anything more than just ask for me to come out for a visit. But, that wasn’t Granddaddy’s way. Asking for a visit made it seem like he needed something. He was the kind of fella that wanted to make sure you were taken care of instead of seeming like you were there to take care of him.
I had gotten my own first apartment and furnished it with a nice folding lawn chair and a black and white TV in the early 90s. It was perfect. Granddad found out about my move and called me, “Sulae, when’s the next time you’ll be in Wisner? There’s something I want to give you.”
I drove down for our visit. This time he was giving me all kinds of things: wooden box shoe shine kit, large metal pry bar, and some other stuff. Wasn’t sure at the time why he was giving me all these things. I said the things we say when folks are giving you stuff they really feel you need; it is the polite exchange of talk that we Southerners do. “No, really. You don’t have to give me these things,” quickly morphs into, “This is really nice; I appreciate it so much.”
I filled my car with this and that. Then we sat for a spell, drinking a bit of tea and watching the light “move” from the edge of the carport and slowly up the three painted, concrete steps to the porch as the sun lowered in the sky. That sunlight was like an hourglass of light that would “time” our visits together. Back then it seemed that light moved too slowly. Looking back, I feel that light moved too quickly.
The afternoon heat had picked up there in the sunlight and Granddaddy took my empty tea glass in the house. I got up, stretched a bit in anticipation of the hour-long drive back home. An hour didn’t consider you getting stuck behind a fella on a tractor hauling a loaded cotton trailer.
He came back out of the house with a box. “I want to give you one more thing.”
He handed me a heavy rectangle box, “Wagner’s 1891 Original Cast Iron Cookware. 3 Piece Natural Skillet Set.” This wasn’t something he’d had laying around the house. The box was new. It was a gift. He didn’t let on that it was new; he gave it to me like his other items as if he’d had it all along and no longer had a use for it.
“Sulae, you’ll be cooking with these long after I am gone and in the ground.”
I wasn’t a “cast iron guy” back then; I was a “Chicken Tonight” kinda bachelor. But, I happily took the 3-piece set home and decided I’d make some of that chicken…tonight…that night.
These skillets have been with me ever since. I’ve always re-seasoned these skillets; I’ve never stripped them. And it shows; they are kinda gunky. There’s likely a bit of some of that “Chicken Tonight” there, buried in some of that build up. Heck, there’s a little “something” from thousands of meals over the past 32 years. But, I pay that no never mind. The chicken I cook tonight in that skillet will be just as perfect as the biscuits I made this morning.
Those three skillets are still our go-to users. They sit on our counter near our stove along with a couple of Lodge griddles and 2 quart pocked-but-restored, Asian-made sauce pot. I’ve been cooking with them skillets now long after Granddaddy has been “gone and in the ground.” And, one day I’ll be joining him and my son will “be cooking with these long after I am gone and in the ground.”
My granddad gave me my first cast iron skillet in 1987 and after 35 years of cast iron cooking, I ain’t ever made a pan of mac and cheese. I was almost a little embarrassed when she asked me about my go-to mac and cheese recipe; I felt my skin get all flushed. Got a little mad at myself and pushed out my bottom lip a bit. And, what did I tell her?
Kugel (kʊɡl̩) (pronounced kuh-gull or koo-gull) is a traditional Ashkenazi Jewish dish, often served on Shabbat and Yom Tov (I’m not Jewish and admit that I had to “DuckDuckGo’d-it.”). It’s been around for generations. Basically, a Kugel is a baked casserole, most commonly made with…
A few weeks ago we went camping with this dessert on the menu. There are three things that mix well: Camping, Dutch oven cooking, and BEER. And, when camping in a very public, people-filled campsite on an open plain in the high desert with it’s unpredictable weather, BEER helps maintain that bit of emotional stoicism and makes for a fabulous camping trip.
When packing for a camping trip we always include beer to cook with, drink “with,” and a few extras as a just-in-case “with.” On the way out of town, we made a visit to our favorite, local pub to “raid” the fridge. My pub always has a few interesting brews in the cooler (and sometimes hidden elsewhere if I ask and look pitiful enough).
The cooler is where they keep the $7.00, $12.00 and even the $25.00 cans and bottles of fermented awesomeness. Though the $25 brews are *usually* avoided, there was this one $12.00 brew that caught my eye. Not by the complexity of the can art (something that draws me in like an enticing book cover). As can art goes, this one was sorta a plain-Jane.
Then, boogedy…boogedy…boogedy…off to the great wild to blaze a trail to a very public, and “groomed” campsite. Our camping season usually starts with this local campground that has many things to do such as scorpion hunting, an observatory, sand dunes, and WIND! Oh my gracious. The wind is often relentless out there; but it’s a hit-or-miss. This time: MISS!
Nonetheless, we had beer, iron, and plenty of food.
“Black as midnight, black as pitch, blacker than the foulest witch.” – Blix the Goblin
We had eaten breakfast before departing on our adventure; I knew we’d be eating a little earlier in the evening than normal. So, I skipped a lunch in order to “save some room” for the cast iron creation that was planned for that evening. At three in the afternoon, with all that wind and blusteriness, there wasn’t much to do other than pull the Dutches out, add fire to the coals, and crack a beer.
That $12 brew poured black as midnight. Despite the blowing wind, the sun was shining bright. When I held up that glass up to the sun, I thought about the Black Knight, “NONE SHALL PASS!” (And if you don’t get that reference, we just can’t be friends). It was dark. It was sweet. And, it was delicious! 16-ounces of pure joy! Definitely a “sipper” and one to drink like cooking a great roast: low-and-slow.
A bit later I pulled out the 12” Dutch oven and started assembling my Cantina Jack Chicken recipe. Then I pulled out my 8” Dutch oven to “assemble” this dessert. I say, “this dessert,” because I had not come up with a name for it yet. These recipes are trial-and-error to get them just right and I usually name them after the fact. I knew I had to come up with something clever and tropical-sounding. After all, with ingredients like bananas and pineapples, what could be a better dessert to plan for during a camping trip with 20 mile per hour winds and a high of 40-something degrees (tongue-in-cheek)?
Once the Cantina Jack Chicken was in the pot and “under the fire,” I started gathering the supplies for our dessert…but…something went kinda catawampus. And not a cooking catawampus but my ability to think-kind of catawampus. Just trying to “do the math” on my coal-count for my little 8” Dutch was giving me grief. At my house math is my “thing,” and English is my wife’s “thing.” But I just couldn’t seem to think. The first problem I had was trying to figure out twice of eight and how many coals to go on top and then on the bottom.
My wife just stared at me with her why-are-you-asking-me-math-questions look when I asked, “What’s two times eight?” At first, I didn’t realize I asked that question out loud; it was supposed to be an “internal affair” rather than an embarrassing “external” question (you know, when you thought you said it in your head but your mouth didn’t get the memo). My wife usually gives me a “math look” when I ask her math problems. But, this “math look” was different. After I answered my own question, she asked to see my beer (that I had only had half). She said, “No wonder.”
There was this short period of time where her “no wonder” comment entered my ear but had not yet registered in my brain. My brain was busy toiling over the dessert preparations. Not to mention the distracting aromas from that cooking Cantina Jack Chicken as they piggybacked on the steam sneaking out from the edges of the lid of that 12” Dutch. “Wonder what?” Turns out my sweet, dark, barrel-aged porter was a fifteen-percenter. I ate breakfast but planned on “saving room” for double helpings of that Cantina Jack Chicken for dinner.
Most would like to brag about how they came up with a name for a recipe; there ain’t no bragging here. I was having so much trouble thinking but didn’t correlate the beer as the culprit. What I meant to say next was “Why am I having so much trouble making this banana and pineapple dessert?” What came out was, “Why am I having so much trouble making this bananapapple dessert?!”
Now I wondered, “why is my wife laughing so hard.”
“What?

A few weeks ago we went camping with this dessert on the menu. There are three things that mix well: Camping, Dutch oven cooking, and BEER. And, when camping in a very public, people-filled campsite on an open plain in the high dessert with it’s unpredictable weather, BEER helps maintain that bit of emotional stoicism and makes for a fabulous camping trip.
It was on this camping trip where we came up with this name, “Bananapapple.” Yes, there’s a story behind this name that involves beer and giggling.
This recipe does very well in a 10″ or an 8″ cast iron Dutch oven at camp.
Using your 10.25” Cast Iron Skillet, smear 1-2 tablespoons of butter all on the inside of the skillet where you’ll be pouring your cake batter once you’ve created it. I smear butter all the way to the edge of the skillet. This will be your non-stick in the making. Keep the “smearing” butter (about 1-2 tablespoons) separate from your icing butter (about 2 tablespoons). BE SURE TO Leave the icing’s 2 tablespoons of butter out to soften and get to “room temperature.” You’ll need this soft butter for the icing later.

Preheat Oven to 350°F / 177°C.
You see that “1 cup granulated sugar?” That’s a lot of sugar, right? But, this is a dessert so don’t skimp out on me. Here’s a trick: AFTER YOU SMEARED THE BUTTER TO THE INSIDE SKILLET SURFACE, pour in the entire cup of sugar into the buttered skillet. Hold it with two hands and rotate it all about to spread the sugar into the butter. The sugar will create a “floured” surface to pour your cake batter into. But, DON’T THROW THE REST OF THAT CUP OF SUGAR OUT. There will be a lot of sugar left; pour that in with the dry ingredients. That will go into the cake!

Mix all the dry stuff in a large bowl and sift together: 1 ½ cups flour, the remaining portion of the 1 cup sugar (remember there’s sugar all in the cast iron skillet sticking to the butter coating), ½ tsp baking soda, ½ tsp salt, ½ tsp cinnamon, and mix in the ¾ cups of nuts.

In another bowl, scramble the 2 eggs up real good.

Mash and measure your bananas (eat the rest…there’s always “the rest”)
Mix all the wet stuff in with the eggs: ½ cup crushed pineapple, 1 tsp. vanilla, ½ cups oil, and the 1 cup mashed ripe bananas (about 2 bananas).
Now we’re making magic. Mix your wet and dry ingredients together.
Pour your batter over into your buttered and sugared 10.25” skillet.
Place the skillet in the oven at 350°F / 177°C. We’re baking for 45-60 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. If you peek, you’ll see the cake “cooking” from the outside towards the center and is a light tan color. Eventually it will start to brown…we’re getting close!
Once the cake is done, pull it from the oven and let the cake rest for about 10-20 minutes. This will cause it to shrink and “pull away” from the skillet. If you try to pull it out too soon, it’ll break. Give it a bit of resting time while you finish up that (or pour another) beer.

After it’s cooled for about 10 minutes (not more than 20 minutes), run a spatula (or equivalent) around the edge of the skillet between the cake’s edge and the skillet rim to “loosen the cake.” The big question: will it stick and break? Just tossing it out onto a cooling rack may cause breakage due to the motion and less likely due to stickage.

With the skillet sitting normally, place a cooling rack or a plate over the top of the skillet. Using both hands (that skillet will still be hot), turn the skillet upside down and the cake should just lay out onto the cooling rack or the plate.

Let the cake cool to a “warm temperature.” Unless you want to eat it hot and steaming (it’s delicious that way too especially with some ice cream on top as the ice cream melts and blends with the cake).
Step 14: In a medium bowl, mix your powdered sugar and the soft butter.
Step 15: Add three tablespoons of beer to the powdered sugar and butter mixture. Start stirring and mixing with a fork to blend. Initially it may look like you need more but you likely don’t; keep mixing.

This recipe should feed about 6-8 people…it’ll feed less if y’all are cuttin’ loose…it’ll feed more if y’all are on a diet.
There’s a story behind the “Bananapapple” name. Yes, it involves math, hot coals, and a 15%-er. It’s a stupid story but I know you’re asking, “what in tarnation is a Bananapapple?” But, if you don’t know what “tarnation” means, I’m sorry but we can’t be friends. (I’M JOKING!…only a little).
*Mixing Your Icing Tip: Go with a Medium Bowl to Mix The Icing (1 ½ cups of powdered sugar “fluffs out” of the bowl when mixing…go deeper on your bowl selection).
If the Bananapapapple Cake turns out “too dry” for your pallet, add ¼ more oil to the recipe. Or, better yet, add that 2nd tablespoon of butter to the skillet when you are doing the “smearing.”
If you put this in the refrigerator, the icing will crust up a bit and get kinda crack-ly.
ENJOY!
There’s two things that at 50-years-young that I have to keep in balance: My appetite for cast-iron-cooked, beer-infused, delicious foods and…my midriff. And trust me, the balance is very hard to maintain. I want to eat and drink like I weigh 400 pounds, but I…
mul·li·gan /ˈməliɡən/ – a stew made from odds and ends of food. Fire up your coals in the charcoal chimney. You’ll be frying at first and simmering afterwards. You’ll start with 12 briquettes under the Dutch for Frying. Put about 20 briquettes in your charcoal…
















I am always sharing fresh, flavorful, recipes cooked up in well-seasoned cast iron awesomeness with a bit of my liquid, hop-based, happy-maker as an ingredient.
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