A Southern-inspired casserole that feeds the soul

This casserole was inspired by a particular soup I had at a small diner in Baton Rouge. Before we dive into the directions for the recipe, I wanted to share the story with you.

I can still remember my first night in Baton Rouge. We were on the last leg of a 10-hour trip that had started in San Antonio, and had been driving on I-10 all day en route to New Orleans. Our last real stop was in Sugar Land, where we topped up on gas and filled up on some barbecued wings. There are seldom cold nights in this area, but it was early January and by the time we reached Louisiana's great capital city, we were famished and freezing.

We were hoping to make it all the way to New Orleans on this final stretch of our journey. There was a quaint bed and breakfast that awaited us, along with the promise of heavenly jambalaya, muffulettas and beignets to tuck us in for the night. However when the sign for a small road-side diner came up that was nestled next to an unusually affordable gas station, we took one look at our poor gas tank, that had been sputtering on empty for the better part of the last hour and decided to get some grub.

We stepped in the door of the diner and were greeted by a lone waitress. Apart from a rather haggard looking patron sitting at the end of the counter, there wasn't any trace of another soul in the building. If there was a chef working in the kitchen, they weren't making as much as a peep.

The waitress seated us at a cozy booth with bright green cushions that had tufts of stuffing coming out of nearly every seam. The little truck-stop didn't have much in the way of a menu, and after perusing a handful of options, I decided to roll the dice and order the soup du jour. I hadn't asked what the soup of the day was, and the lady didn't bother to tell me before disappearing into the kitchen.

It couldn't have been more than a minute before she reappeared with a bowl of stewed tomato soup. It didn't look like much and as she set it down in front of me, I began to wonder whether I had made a mistake being so haphazard with my order. I was famished, but not desperate.

The stew had a slight film on top, as if it had been sitting around for a while in the bowl. From the looks of the empty diner I thought perhaps I should have gone for something less liquid, like a sandwich. I simply shook my head. Logic soon gave way to hunger. I picked up the spoon - a slightly-bent, plastic-handled fiasco - filled it up to the edges with the questionable-looking tomato soup, and put it in my mouth.

I can't tell you what I ate in New Orleans that winter. I can't even really say what I did on that trip. But I can tell you, with incredible detail, how that soup tasted. From the moment it touched my tongue, my mouth exploded in a symphony of intense flavor. It wasn't some lump of chopped up tomatoes in that bowl.

There was silky okra, flooding my taste buds with a rich sense of eggplant. The soup base was some sort of made-from-scratch chicken stock that was so rich I wondered if they had just simmered the bones until they disappeared. Flecks of celery hidden from the naked eye popped against the back of my mouth as I bit down, and a smooth, garlic-ey aftertaste foreshadowed the horrible garlic-breath I would have for the rest of the night. There was a hint of bay leaf, and just the right amount of salt and pepper.

Maybe it was because I was hungry, or maybe it was because it was just hot soup on a cold night, or maybe it was my first taste of soup made in the South, but the taste of that soup is something I'll never forget. It's the type of epicurean memory that a food lover would love to share with other food lovers. That stewed tomato soup was the one memory I kept from that trip, and the inspiration for how I approached this recipe.
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Every time I make this casserole, each bite reminds me of the heartwarming feeling of sitting in that green-cushioned booth, filling my soul with that gorgeous soup. Even though this memory is mine, I hope whenever you make this casserole, you'll think back to a moment in your past when you needed some comfort after a long day's journey, whether it was a hard day at work, or the tail end of a thousand-mile road trip.

In preparation for this recipe, I usually start by preparing the bread. The recipe calls for 3 slices of stale bread. You can use fresh bread if you like, but I usually reserve fresh bread for things that need it to be fresh. Honestly, I feel like my bread goes stale so quick that I hardly ever have any fresh bread laying around anyway.

Cut the crusts off and tear up the centers.

The beauty of this casserole recipe is its flexibility, and that is shown off by the first real step, which is creating the raw tomato soup base. You don't need to actually cook the soup, but just combine the soup ingredients in a bowl. The cooking part will be handled when we bake the casserole.

The base recipe calls for 28 ounces of whole peeled tomatoes. If you can get your hands on fresh tomatoes, then that translates to around 4-5 medium tomatoes. Here's also a word of warning for those tempted to chop the tomatoes versus peeling them. To get that smooth soup feeling in every bite, you're going to want your tomatoes peeled. I know, that can be a pain, and if you're not feeling up to it you can get canned whole peeled tomatoes from most grocery stores. You lose a little street credit, but nobody will be able to tell the difference between canned or fresh tomatoes once everything has been baked.
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Now, here's the fun part. You can spice up your tomato base however you like. Choose your favorite style of tomato soup, and just start adding the ingredients into the bowl of tomatoes. When I prepare my base, I add things like celery, onions, and okra. If I have it, I'll throw in some thyme. Honestly, whenever I discover a new type of tomato soup, I return to this recipe and make it with those new ingredients. If you're a fan of tomato soup, you'll find yourself returning to this recipe time and time again.

While you're preparing your tomato soup base, you can preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. I usually only start pre-heating once I have the tomatoes peeled and in the bowl to avoid the risk of getting distracted and forgetting about the oven. While you're at it, grease an oven-proof casserole dish with nonstick spray or butter.
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Make sure to mix the ingredients of your tomato soup base in the bowl, and to crush the tomatoes lightly between your fingers to make large chunks. Once you're satisfied with the mixture, you can pour it all into the casserole dish. There should be enough fluid to fill in the bottom of the casserole pan, but not enough to cover the crushed tomatoes. Check out the image below as a reference.
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If you were wondering this entire time what was going to prevent this soup-inspired casserole from turning into an awful mush, here's your answer. Remember that bread you tore up earlier? Use it to cover the tomato soup base in the casserole dish. The bread will soak up most of the fluid from the tomatoes, and help bind everything together into a cohesive casserole filling.
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Melt 1/4 cup of butter in the microwave. If you're impatient, you could throw it in the microwave before tearing up the bread. Either way, pour the melted butter as evenly as you can over the torn up bread. Follow it up with the 1/4 cup of brown sugar, and then 1/2 teaspoon of salt.
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Stir all of these ingredients together. This is when the bread really absorbs all of the ingredients, and the mixture should be pretty thick and chunky at this point. As you can see in the image below, almost all the fluid has been absorbed by the bread.
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Bake uncovered for 45 minutes, until the top is lightly browned and the mixture is thickened. As you can see in the photo below, the mixture should be mostly cooked into casserole form.
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Keep an eye on it every 10-15 minutes as it cooks. You can also cover the casserole dish with aluminum foil for the last 15 minutes if the top is getting too browned.

Finally, top it off with some of your favorite shredded cheese. For a finishing touch, garnish it with a spare bit of basil. For me, I usually add a bay leaf on top.
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Now, it's time to grab a blanket, light up the fireplace, and chow down on your piping hot stewed tomato casserole!

Looking for more casseroles? Check out the best casseroles of 2018 for more great casserole recipe ideas.