A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon an image posted on the Facebook page of Dinosaur Dracula—a site that documents and celebrates “’80s & ’90s nostalgia, Halloween & Xmas, snacks, toys, spooky stuff and more—that caught my attention. It was a Creamettes print ad that appeared in the January 1971 issue of Family Circle magazine.
Dinosaur Dracula screenshot.
The full page advert features none other than legendary actor, tireless pitchman, iconic voiceover professional, and unexpectedly accomplished gourmand Vincent Price hocking mass produced macaroni. The ad also features a recipe for “Vincent Supper Casserole” that, based on its appearance, only serves to confirm this ad came from the early 1970s. As a husky Midwesterner with an appreciation for pop culture of a certain era, let’s just say this recipe spoke to me for a number of reasons.
Since Halloween (a holiday with which Price is synonymous on account of his oodles of villainous roles and the narration he provided to “Thriller”) is right around the corner and we’re less than two weeks away from our annual Casserole Call fundraiser, I figured there was simply no better time to make Vincent’s Supper Casserole and review it for you fine folks. (Note: I bought all the ingredients and got too far down the rabbit hole before I realized Dinosaur Dracula literally did the same exact thing already. Sorry, Drac!)
Thankfully, this recipe is fairly easy and inexpensive to source ingredients for. If you’re going strictly by the recipe that appeared in Family Circle, it essentially consists of this, plus flour, butter, and salt. As you can see, I opted for the green pepper when given the choice between that and parsley.
As I boiled the noodles and stirred the cheese sauce I had made as it was heating up, I diced up the green pepper and “luncheon meat.” For the uninitiated, luncheon meat is a brand non-specific term for Spam. Even though Spam (and luncheon meat in general) gets a bad reputation, it’s actually pretty good if/when you get over its appearance. You ever have Spam musubi? Do yourself a favor and get some Spam musubi sometime.
Once the Creamette—they Sean Parkered their name and lost the S sometime after 1971 because “it’s cleaner”—was boiled and strained, I mixed it with the diced pepper and generic Spam in a baking pan.
Then I poured on the cheese sauce!
The recipe also calls for “reserving a few slices” of the luncheon meat to put atop of the casserole. I decided to arrange my leftover meat slices in this artful way. Ain’t it gorgeous!
Then you bake it. The recipe says to bake it uncovered at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. I, ever the culinary rebel, defied Mr. Price’s instructions and baked it at 375 degrees for 30 minutes instead and was happy…or as happy as one can be with the cook and coloration of the luncheon meat.
After letting it cool for a spell, I put some in a bowl and chowed down. Many of you surely already made up your mind about whether you’d ever eat this, but I swear on the grave of the late, great Vincent Price himself and the ghost of the departed letter S in Creamettes that Vincent’s Supper Casserole is actually pretty good.
While I’m not about to make luncheon meat (which is astronomically high in fat and sodium) a mainstay in my pantry, it certainly held its own in the mix. The cheese sauce was creamy and flavorful, and the pepper even retained a little bit of crunch to bring a dash of texture to an otherwise soft and mushy dish. That being said, I don’t think this will be something I make again—at least not without adding a lot more spices, subbing in other vegetables for green pepper, and changing out the Spam for another protein…essentially transforming the casserole altogether. But for a 1971 magazine ad recipe, you could do A LOT worse.
Most importantly, making Vincent’s Supper Casserole accidentally taught me how to make a good roux. For my entire adult life, I’ve struggled with runny sauces and either rubbery or otherwise overbaked noodles in my casseroles, mac and cheese, and other baked pasta dishes because, to be honest, I suck at making roux. With Vincent Price’s so-called “cheese sauce” that’s actually a roux now in my culinary lexicon, I can only imagine the rich and savory delights I’ll be able to cook up. Hey, maybe I’ll even start my new roux era by serving up “Tyler’s Supper Casserole” at Falcon Hall on Sunday, November 9!