My Uncle Johnny’s Donkey Fazouu Isn’t Just a Casserole—It’s Family Legend

The name came from my uncle Johnny.

When he was a child when he first saw the dish coated with hot, strange lumps with golden taters, he threw his face up and explained: “What is that? Donkey Fazouu?”

Nobody knew what that meant. We still don’t do it: Uncle Johnny has always had a stoic strip, so that he conjured up a stupid name, it made it glue all the more. And with this name the recipe.

In his heart, Donkey Fazouu is a classic casserole in the middle west: beef minced meat that is browned with onions and is stirred in cream from mushroom soup, perhaps a handful of frozen vegetables that is thrown in when someone feels virtuous. And above? A wonderful, crispy tater ceiling from Tater Tots until you reach this golden, cratered perfection. We always make it in the same dish: slightly on the edges, forever reliable.

It is not glamorous. It doesn’t try to be. But it shows.

Donkey Fazouu appears in my family if nobody wants to cook. When someone gets bad news. If we are all too tired or sad or human to give something with more ambition. It is the dish that we grab when we want something that tastes of home.

And somehow it always delivers.

Casserole are so funny. They are rarely the heart of a holiday spread. You don’t center your birthday party for one. But they are always in the middle of the table. Warm, simple and always generous. A casserole says: I did something for you. It is a culinary embrace that is summarized in a worn court.

Every family has their version. Some call it “tuna wobble” or “Aunt Babs Spaghetti”. The names don’t make sense for anyone, but they are a gospel in the family.

And these stupid names? They are what the dish makes sacred. As soon as something gets a name like “Donkey Fazouu”, it was said. Made permanent. Turned into folklore. It stops being just a recipe and it becomes part of the strange little myth of her family. The type of things that you mention in wedding toast or tearful loud files.

This resistance extends beyond food. In our family, the dish itself, the literal bakedware bears weight. The one we use for Donkey Fazouu has been in the family for decades. It is of course the corningware with these legendary blue corn flowers that are practically screaming “kitchen of the 1950s”.

So it felt strangely poetic when I was far from home this summer to make a longer stay in Sweden, and discovered an almost identical dish in a second-hand shop near Tylösand. White ceramics. Blue flowers around the edge. Not quite corning goods, but close enough to catch my heart a little.

I bought it immediately.

Later that night I made a version of Donkey Fazouu (or something that used the beautiful and rich local dairy products and products for my fiancee and me. And when I pushed it into a Swedish oven in our Swedish home, I thought: someone here probably also grew up with a recipe, including this soul food. Perhaps you remember that your mother is gently in the middle of the table. Has bubbled and browned and made with love.

Because this offers this dish: a feeling.

It’s not chic. It is not impressive. It shouldn’t work, but it does. And it always shows when it is necessary.

Donkey Fazouu reminds me that not everything saints have to be serious. This comfort and absurdity can live on the same plate. This love often comes with a layer of melted cheese.

It also asks me to ask: What is your donkey fazouu?

What is the strange, strangely calming, never written family recipe that makes your people laugh and then return for seconds?

Ask your people. Tell your stories. These recipes, these funny, modest dishes that are part of the metaphorical family quilt, which goes from generation to generation.

Because if you look back, you will not remember the side salad. You will remember what was hot and heavy in the middle of the table.

What was not the heart, but was always in the middle.

Uncle Johnny’s donkey Fazouu (also known as the Toter Tot Casserole)

Ingredients

• 1 LB beef meat meat
• 1 small onion, cubes
• 1 can cream made of mushroom soup
• 1/2 cup of sour cream
• Salt & pepper taste
• 2 cups of frozen mixed vegetables (optional)
• 1 bag (32-Uszen) frozen taters dead
• 1–2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (optional)

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).
2. Cook beef meat and onions in a pan over medium heat until you brown. Drain fat.
3. Stir in the soup and sour cream. Add salt, pepper and vegetables when using.
4. Pour into a greased 9×13-inch casserole.
5. Top with tater together in a single layer. Sprinkle cheese over it (during the last 10 minutes of baking).
6. Bake in the preheated oven, which was discovered for 35-40 minutes until it is hot and golden.
7. Let it rest for a few minutes before serving. Share the story when you have one.