Picture this. The year’s 1975. Your mom’s in the kitchen, pulling a bubbling dish out of that avocado green oven. The smell of cream of mushroom soup, melted cheese, and something crispy on top fills the house.
You had no idea what was in it, really. None of us did. It was just casserole night again, which meant dinner was affordable, hot, and probably involved something from a can.
Casseroles reigned in middle-class kitchens in the 1970s, showing up at potlucks, church suppers, weeknight dinners – anywhere people gathered to eat. These one-dish wonders saved time, stretched budgets, and fed families without much fuss. Let’s be real, they weren’t always pretty. Sometimes they were downright questionable. Yet somehow, they disappeared from the table every single time.
Tuna Noodle Casserole
This was the weeknight MVP in nearly every home with a working mom. Born in the lean postwar years, this casserole had worked its way so deeply into the middle-class kitchen that by the 1970s it barely needed an introduction. It’s easy to see why, as it relies on ingredients that could survive in a suburban cabinet for months – egg noodles, cream of mushroom soup, and canned tuna, as well as a topping of crumbs, cornflakes, or potato chips gave it crunch as it baked.
Whether foodies of the 1970s were jamming out to Funkadelic and Crosby, Stills, & Nash (pre-Young), or catching the latest episode of “Sanford and Son,” there’s a good chance they were fueled by tuna noodle casserole. The retro comfort food of canned tuna fish dotted with peas and mushrooms, blanketed under a bubbly cheese topping, dominated dinner tables of ’70s suburbia – and with its accessible, affordable, crowd-pleasing makeup, it’s no mystery why. The whole recipe came together in about half an hour. Leftovers actually held up pretty well in the fridge, too, which was a bonus when you had four kids and a tight schedule.
The classic tuna noodle casserole that ruled the ’70s typically featured boiled egg noodles and a combination of canned ingredients – canned cream of mushroom soup, canned tuna fish, canned mushrooms, and peas (canned or frozen). Some families swore by crushed potato chips on top. Others went with Ritz crackers. Either way, that crunchy layer was the whole point.
Honestly, if you didn’t grow up with this dish, you probably wouldn’t understand the nostalgia. It wasn’t fancy. It just worked.
King Ranch Chicken Casserole
Texans did not invent this at the famous ranch – nobody from King Ranch claims it – but the name stuck, probably because it sounds Texan. The real origin is fuzzy, but the casserole clearly got its legs in the post–World War II era, when canned soups and convenience cooking were taking over. It likely originated in Texas community cookbooks in the 1950s and 60s, then swept through Junior League collections and church potlucks.
Corn tortillas are layered with shredded chicken, Rotel tomatoes, cream of chicken soup, cream of mushroom soup, and a heavy hand of cheese. Think of it like a Tex-Mex lasagna that your mom could throw together in twenty minutes. The layers soaked up all the creamy, spicy goodness as it baked, and the cheese on top got all bubbly and golden.
This was the dish every Texas mom brought to the church potluck. It fed a crowd without breaking the bank. The leftovers somehow tasted even better the next day, which made it a lunchbox staple for kids across the South.
Funeral Potatoes
Let’s get the name out of the way first. Yes, they’re actually called that. Funeral potatoes get their unique name from being a crowd-pleasing casserole served as a side dish at after-funeral luncheons (particularly in the culture of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints). As sad as that might sound, it shows how comforting and delicious this dish is to have become such a STAPLE.
This dish with a somewhat depressing name came out of Mormon community gatherings in Utah, where it was a fixture at post-service luncheons, but by the 1970s it had spread far beyond church basements. Frozen hash browns, sour cream, cream of chicken soup, cheddar cheese, and a crunchy cornflake topping made this casserole irresistible. You could prep it the night before, toss it in the fridge, and bake it whenever you needed it.
The crispy, buttery cornflake topping was everything. Underneath, you’d get this creamy, cheesy potato heaven that paired with basically any main dish. Ham, chicken, turkey, pot roast. Didn’t matter. These potatoes showed up and delivered every time.
It became so popular that it started appearing at Thanksgiving dinners, Sunday suppers, and basically any gathering where comfort food was required.
Green Bean Casserole
Green Bean Casserole was created by a Campbell Soup Company employee, Dorcas Reilly, at our Camden, New Jersey headquarters in 1955. I find it interesting that the recipe was originally developed as an everyday side dish, and it didn’t take off as a Thanksgiving favorite until the 1960s when Campbell’s put the recipe on the Cream of Mushroom soup can label.
Born in the Campbells Test Kitchen in 1955, this recipe has stood the test of time. With just five staple ingredients and a mere 10 minutes of prep, it’s no wonder this dish has been a beloved family favorite for over six decades. The ingredient list was brilliantly simple. Green beans, cream of mushroom soup, milk, soy sauce, black pepper, and French fried onions. That’s it.
Green Bean Casseroles are served at 20 million Thanksgiving dinners every year. Even people who claimed they didn’t like green beans would eat this. The creamy mushroom sauce coated every bean, and those crispy onions on top made it impossible to resist going back for seconds.
By the seventies, this casserole was basically mandatory at holiday tables. It was cheap, it was easy, and it actually tasted good. What more could a busy mom ask for?
Hamburger Helper Casserole
When General Mills launched Hamburger Helper in 1971, it was pitched as a stovetop solution for stretching a single pound of ground beef. But it didn’t take long for home cooks to realize the mix worked just as well in the oven. By the mid-’70s, families were turning stroganoff, cheeseburger, and beef noodle versions into full-blown casseroles – baked in a 9×13 dish, topped with extra cheese, and made to feed a crowd.
The beauty of this was that you could take a box mix and elevate it just by baking it. Extra cheese on top? Check. Crushed crackers for crunch? Sure. Maybe some frozen veggies thrown in to make it feel more like a real meal? Absolutely.
Moms loved it because it took almost zero effort. Kids loved it because it tasted like comfort. The whole family got fed for just a few dollars. In a decade marked by economic struggles and rising food costs, this casserole was a lifesaver.
Chicken Divan
Chicken Divan started at the Divan Parisien restaurant in New York, where it was a fancy chicken-and-broccoli gratin topped with Mornay sauce. The chef never shared the exact recipe, which meant home cooks had to improvise. By the 1970s, the recipe was tweaked to a bit less “Park Avenue” and more potluck. The restaurant sauce was swapped for mayonnaise and canned cream soup, the cheese got heavier, and the whole thing became easier to throw together on a Tuesday night.
This was how you got kids to eat broccoli without a fight. You buried it in creamy sauce, covered it with chicken and cheese, and baked it until it bubbled. Suddenly, broccoli wasn’t the enemy anymore.
The dish had this retro elegance to it. It felt a little fancier than your average weeknight meal, even though it was made with frozen broccoli and Campbell’s soup. Serve it with some rice or rolls, and you had yourself a proper dinner.
Turkey Tetrazzini
Tetrazzini takes its name from Italian opera star Luisa Tetrazzini, but it’s as American as a Campbell’s label. The dish showed up in hotel dining rooms in the early 1900s as a buttery, sherry-scented pasta bake with mushrooms and parmesan. By the 1970s, it had morphed into the ultimate leftover makeover, especially after Thanksgiving. Home cooks swapped the delicate sauces for canned cream soup, skipped the fresh pasta in favor of boxed spaghetti, and baked it all under a blanket of cheese.
This was what you did with leftover turkey when you couldn’t stand another sandwich. You tossed it with spaghetti, mushrooms, cream soup, and a ton of cheese, then baked it until golden. It was creamy, hearty, and made you forget you were eating leftovers.
Some moms added peas. Some threw in breadcrumbs for extra crunch. Every family had their own version, but the base was always the same. Pasta, poultry, cream, cheese. Done.
It was the kind of dish that made you feel resourceful, like you’d stretched that Thanksgiving turkey as far as it could possibly go.
Broccoli Rice Casserole
If the goal was to get kids to eat broccoli, this was the way to do it. This sneaky recipe took broccoli – still seen as a “special” vegetable in many homes – and made it palatable by melting it into a pool of processed cheese and folding it through soft, cooked rice. Velveeta was a common choice, often mixed with a can of cream soup for added creaminess, and frozen broccoli allowed for year-round preparation.
Velveeta made everything better in the seventies. That’s just a fact. When you melted it with cream of chicken soup and stirred in rice and broccoli, you got this gooey, cheesy, comforting side dish that everyone devoured.
It was a staple at church suppers and family dinners. You could make it ahead of time, which was a huge plus for busy moms juggling work and kids. Plus, it reheated beautifully, so leftovers were never a problem.
Broccoli rice casserole was proof that with enough cheese, you could make anything taste good.
Seven Layer Casserole
Seven-Layer Casserole is as much about presentation as it is about convenience. The ingredients are added raw – usually rice on the bottom, followed by ground beef, tomato sauce, onions, bell peppers, celery, and a final layer of bacon. As it bakes, the flavors mingle and the rice absorbs all the juices from the meat and vegetables, so by the time it comes out of the oven, you have a full meal in one dish.
The genius here was that you didn’t have to pre-cook anything. You just layered everything raw in a baking dish, covered it, and let the oven do all the work. The rice soaked up all the meaty, tomatoey goodness, and the bacon on top got crispy and delicious.
It looked impressive when you sliced into it and saw all those distinct layers. Your kids thought you’d spent hours on it when really you’d just stacked ingredients and walked away.
This casserole embodied everything the seventies loved about cooking. Minimal effort, maximum flavor, and everything in one dish.
Tater Tot Casserole
This one was pure Midwestern magic. Ground beef, cream of mushroom soup, cheese, and a layer of frozen tater tots on top. Bake until the tots got crispy and golden, and you had yourself a dinner that kids absolutely lost their minds over.
Some moms added green beans to make it feel more balanced. Others threw in corn or mixed veggies. The base was always the same, though. Beef, soup, cheese, tots.
It was the kind of meal that required almost zero cooking skills. Brown some meat, dump in a can of soup, top with frozen potatoes, bake. Done. Yet somehow, it always hit the spot.
Tater tot casserole became a comfort food staple that stuck around long after the seventies ended. Families still make it today because, honestly, it’s just that good.
Mock Stroganoff Casserole
Real beef stroganoff required fancy ingredients and actual technique. Mock stroganoff? You just browned ground beef, stirred in cream of mushroom soup and sour cream, tossed it with egg noodles, and called it a day.
It wasn’t authentic, but that didn’t matter. It was creamy, savory, and filled you up. You could make it in under thirty minutes on a busy weeknight, which made it a lifesaver for working moms.
Some families added mushrooms or onions to fancy it up a bit. Others kept it simple and just let the creamy sauce do the talking. Either way, it disappeared fast.
This casserole proved that you didn’t need expensive cuts of meat or complicated recipes to make something delicious. Ground beef and a couple cans of soup could go a long way.
Hot Dog Casserole
Yes, hot dogs. In a casserole. It sounds weird now, but back then, it was a brilliant way to feed a family on a tight budget. Sliced hot dogs, cream of potato soup, frozen mixed vegetables, and a biscuit topping made this dish oddly satisfying.
The biscuit dough baked right on top of the hot dog mixture, soaking up all the savory juices while getting golden and crispy on the surface. Kids loved the familiar taste of hot dogs, and parents loved how cheap and easy it was to make.
It wasn’t gourmet. It wasn’t even close. Yet it filled bellies and brought families together around the dinner table, which was the whole point.
Hot dog casserole was peak seventies creativity. Take what you’ve got, throw it in a dish, bake it, and hope for the best. Most of the time, it worked.
