60 Forgotten Cheap Meals From the 1960s That Fed Entire Families
There was a time, not all that long ago, when the sound of a can opener was as familiar in the kitchen as a cast iron skillet sizzling on the stove. The 1960s ushered in a whirlwind of cultural change, tie-dye shirts, transistor radios, and TV dinners. But tucked quietly between the glamour of the space race and the groovy vibe of Woodstock, a humble revolution was happening in America’s kitchens. It was frugal.
It was filling. And it was fabulously inventive. Back then, cooking on a budget didn’t mean sacrificing flavor. It meant making do with pride. It meant transforming a single pound of ground beef into three nights of dinner or stretching half a chicken into Sunday supper and Monday’s pot pie. Creativity wasn’t just born from necessity.
It was an art form in itself. And more often than not, it was fueled by canned cream of something soup. We’re about to journey back in time, flipping through the yellowed pages of old community cookbooks and the handwritten index cards tucked away in kitchen drawers. These are the meals no one talks about anymore.
The casserles, the congealed salads, the skillet suppers that fed entire generations. Some might make us chuckle today, but in their heyday, they were the heroes of the dinner table. Dish one, tuna noodle casserole. Ah, the queen of the casserole kingdom. Tuna noodle casserole didn’t just feed families. It comforted them with its creamy base, tender noodles, and that golden crown of crispy breadcrumbs or crushed potato chips.
It was a dish that felt like a warm hug in a cold Tupperware container. You could find it bubbling in ovenproof glass at every church potluck and PTA meeting. Born from post-war convenience and pantry economics, this dish was a marvel of shelf stable synergy. Canned tuna, cream of mushroom soup, egg noodles, and a handful of frozen peas if you had them.
Stir it all together, pour it into a buttered dish, and let it bake until it’s bubbling like lava from a lava lamp. Simple, cheap, and satisfying. Tuna noodle casserole didn’t try to impress. It just showed up. piping hot night after night, making magic from a can. It wasn’t flashy, but it was dependable. And sometimes that’s exactly what dinner should be.
Dish two, chipped beef on toast, SOS. Now, here’s a dish with a reputation as salty as the beef itself. Chipped beef on toast. affectionately or not so affectionately known in military circles as SOS was a staple on barracks breakfast trays and somehow also made its way onto the family table during tight times. Thin ribbons of dried beef pulled from a jar or pouch sizzled gently in a bubbling r of butter, flour, and milk until they were swimming in creamy white gravy.
That gravy was then ladled generously over crisp slices of toasted white bread. Cheap, shelf stable, and rich in salt and sustenance. It stuck to your ribs and didn’t ask for much. It wasn’t fancy, but it was filling. And when dad brought the habit home from the service, it became Saturday morning tradition for a lot of households.
The kind of dish you groaned about as a kid, but secretly miss once you’ve grown. Because no matter how you slice it, SOS tasted like resilience with a splash of worershure. Dish three, sloppy joe bake. If a casserole and a sandwich had a messy, delicious baby, it would be the sloppy joe bake. Born in an era when ground beef was king and tomato sauce reigned supreme, this dish took everything folks loved about the classic sloppy joe and poured it into a baking dish.
ground beef browned with onions, a squirt of ketchup, a spoonful of mustard, and maybe a dash of brown sugar, all simmered into that sweet, savory, sloppy joe glory. But instead of scooping it onto buns, the 1960s homemaker poured it into a casserole, layered it with shredded cheddar cheese, and topped it with biscuit dough or white bread slices slathered in butter.
Into the oven it went until golden and bubbling, a saucy, meaty, carbcrowned triumph. It was hearty. It was humble. and it could feed a hungry table for under two bucks. In a world before takeout, the sloppy joe bake brought diner vibes to the dinner table, minus the paper hats and jukebox.
Dish four, meatloaf with oatmeal. Before breadcrumbs became the default, there was oatmeal, the old-fashioned kind. Not only was it cheaper, but it gave 1960s meatloaf a soft heart and a firm shape. Holding together all that seasoned ground beef like a grandma’s hug. Eggs, ketchup, diced onion, maybe a splash of milk, everything got mixed in with rolled oats to stretch a single pound of meat into a feast for six.
Formed into a tidy loaf and baked low and slow, it came out tender and juicy. topped with a shiny glaze of ketchup, or for the fancy, a bit of brown sugar and mustard mixed in. Every slice was a perfect cross-section of thrift and comfort. This was the kind of meatloaf you’d find wrapped in foil in your lunchbox the next day, wedged between two slices of white bread.
It wasn’t gourmet, but it was home. And nothing said, “We’re doing okay.” quite like a thick slice of meatloaf on a plastic plate. Dish five, spam and pineapple skillet. Now, here’s a meal that dreamed of Hawaii, but had to make do with a frying pan. In the 1960s, spam wasn’t just pantry filler.
It was protein with personality. Slice it thick or dice it small, toss it in a hot skillet until the edges crisped like bacon. And then came the kicker. Canned pineapple rings and their syrupy juice right into the pan. The sweet, salty combo sizzled together, caramelizing into something shockingly tasty. Sometimes a splash of soy sauce made it in, or a pinch of brown sugar, depending on how sweet you wanted to swing.
Served over white rice or instant mashed potatoes, it was weekn night luau meets budget survival. For a dish made entirely from shelf stable ingredients, it had flare. It brought just enough tropical fantasy to brighten a gray evening. And while it may raise eyebrows today, back then it was downright exotic. Plus, kids loved it, and that alone made it worth its weight in ham.
Dish six, Frankfforter Casserole. Hot dogs weren’t just for the grill in the 60s. They were a main course, and sometimes they dressed up for dinner. Enter the Frankfforter Casserole, a bubbling cheesy tomato sauce tribute to frugality and flare. [Music] Sliced hot dogs were browned in a skillet, then tossed into a mixture of cooked elbow macaroni, canned tomato soup, diced onions, and a handful of shredded cheddar.
Sometimes corn or peas snuck in, too. The whole glorious mess was poured into a casserole dish, topped with breadcrumbs or more cheese, and baked until it bubbled and crisped around the edges. This dish was kid-approved, budget friendly, and endlessly flexible. If you had mustard or woristersher, in it went. If you had no cheese, you made dew.
It was the very spirit of 1960s cooking. Practical, creative, and unfussy. Frankfurter casserole didn’t pretend to be something it wasn’t. It was honest, hearty, and humble. A hot dog in a three-piece suit. Dish seven. Mock chicken legs. City chicken. No chicken, no problem. City chicken was the depression era illusion that never really left.
By the 1960s, it had a home in every Midwest freezer, often served on Sunday with mashed potatoes and green beans. But here’s the twist. It wasn’t chicken at all. Cubed pork or ve, whichever was cheaper, was threaded onto wooden skewers, seasoned, rolled in flour and breadcrumbs, and pan fried until golden. [Music] Sometimes it was baked after, sometimes simmered in gravy.
Either way, it was shaped like a drumstick and meant to fool the eye, if not the tongue. There was a certain charm to the deception. It was a performance. Chicken from a city that didn’t raise poultry. But it worked. The meat was tender, the coating crispy, and the illusion good enough for even the pickiest eaters.
Mock chicken legs weren’t trying to fool anyone by the 60s. They were their own thing. nostalgic, hearty, and oddly elegant in their own skewered way. Dish eight, porcupine meatballs. Don’t worry, no porcupines were harmed in the making of this dish. The name came from the way the rice poked out of the meatballs like tiny little quills.
It was fun, it was filling, and it turned a single pound of ground beef into something the whole family could marvel at. To make them, you’d mix uncooked white rice right into the meat along with onion, egg, a dash of salt and pepper, and maybe some garlic powder if you were feeling bold. Rolled into balls and simmered in a bubbling bath of tomato soup thinned with water or broth, the rice cooked as the meatballs did, puffing out in every direction.
Served with a spoonful of extra sauce and maybe a scoop of mashed potatoes, porcupine meatballs were weekday wonder food. Easy, cheap, and oddly whimsical. Kids loved the name, parents loved the price, and everyone loved the taste. It was meat and magic rolled into one. Dish nine, cheeseburger pie. If Meatloaf had a trrist with a cheeseburger and raised the child in a pie plate, this would be the result.
Cheeseburger pie was a weekn night lifesaver in the 1960s. Meaty, cheesy, and blessedly simple. It was one of those back of the box recipes that somehow stuck around. Brown ground beef mixed with onion and ketchup was spooned into a pie crust, either homemade if you were ambitious, or from a tube if you had PTA that night.
A generous handful of cheddar cheese went over the top, followed by a quick pour of biscuit batter, Bisquick style, to crown the whole [Music] creation. After baking, the crust browned, the cheese melted, and the filling bubbled into gooey, golden comfort. It sliced neatly like a kiche and smelled like a backyard cookout inside a warm kitchen.
It was quirky, comforting, and undeniably clever. A cheeseburger without the grill, served with a fork, and ready in under an hour. Dish 10: Macaroni and tomato juice. To the untrained eye, this might look like a pantry accident, but in many 1960s kitchens, macaroni and tomato juice was a thrifty staple. Simple, saucy, and surprisingly satisfying.
Just two ingredients, three if you’re feeling wild. Yet somehow it held its own. You’d start by boiling elbow macaroni just until tender. Drain it, then return it to the pot and pour in plain old canned tomato juice. Not sauce, not soup, juice. The kind you’d sip on a flight or drink when watching your cholesterol.
Stir it all together and let the noodles soak in that tangy, thin sauce over low heat. Some folks added a pad of butter. Others tossed in sugar, salt, or even a splash of milk to mellow it out. But at its core, it was a poor man’s pasta. A dish born of tight times and limited options.
It was warm, tomatoy, and oddly comforting. It didn’t make headlines, but it sure made supper. Dish 11. Bolognia ring mold. Few dishes scream mid-century party platter quite like a bologn ring mold. It was a gelatinized masterpiece or monstrosity depending on who you ask. Picture finely chopped bologna, diced pickles, pimentos, and shredded cheese all suspended in lemon or savory gelatin shaped into a glorious wreath using a trusty bunt or jell-o mold.
This wasn’t a dish for everyday dinner. It was for bridal showers, potlucks, and anyone trying to impress their neighbors with sheer audacity. Sliced and served cold, it often sat next to Ritz crackers and develed eggs, daring guests to take a bite. But truth be told, it had a certain charm. The saltiness of the bologn, the tang of the pickle, and the creamy zip of mayo, or miracle whip made each bite oddly pleasant.
Maybe not gourmet, but unforgettable. In the 1960s, this was what happened when Ambition met a meat slicer. And for better or worse, it left an impression that still jiggles in our memories. Dish 12. Tamalei pie. Tamalei pie wasn’t exactly Mexican, but it was close enough for 1960s Midwestern kitchens. It was a spicy mirage.
Texmex comfort filtered through a Campbell soup lens. Still, for a family on a budget, it was bold, filling, and wonderfully warm. You’d start by browning ground beef with chopped onions and maybe some bell pepper if you had it. Add canned tomatoes, corn, and a hint of chili powder to give it that south of the border vibe.
Then came the kicker, a cornbread topping, either mixed from scratch or straight from a box poured over the top like a golden blanket. Baked until the crust puffed and browned, tamalei pie came out of the oven smelling like adventure. It was meat, vegetables, and bread all in one dish, and that meant fewer dishes to wash, which every home cook appreciated.
It may not have been authentic, but it was loved. And in on its own quirky way, it was a flavor vacation without leaving your zip code. Dish 13. Hamburger gravy over bread. If there were ever a dish that defined doing what you can with what you’ve got, this was it. Hamburger gravy over bread wasn’t fancy.
It was survival food dressed in a creamy disguise, and somehow it tasted like something far grander than its ingredients suggested. Ground beef, browned with a bit of onion and seasoned just right, formed the base. A few spoonfuls of flour were stirred in, followed by milk or water, transforming the humble pan drippings into a rich, stick to your ribs gravy.
Then came the foundation. Slices of plain white sandwich bread laid flat on the plate like a canvas. The gravy was ladled over top until the bread soaked through and the plate shimmerred with saucy comfort. Some families added peas or corn. Others topped it with shredded cheese if payday had been kind.
In those modest week nights of yestery year, this was dinner, and it fed not just bellies, but a kind of quiet pride in making ends meet. Dish 14. Cream chicken over biscuits. Creamed chicken over biscuits was the kind of meal that felt like Sunday, even if it was Tuesday and the kids were cranky. It wasn’t expensive.
It wasn’t flashy, but it had heart. Tender bits of chicken swam in a thick white sauce speckled with black pepper and maybe a hint of thyme. Most folks used leftover chicken, boiled, roasted, or canned in a pinch, shredded, and folded into a homemade cream sauce made from butter, flour, milk, and broth.
Some added peas, others a handful of carrots or celery, whatever the fridge surrendered. The real magic happened when it hit the biscuits. Flaky golden towers, either rolled and cut or dropped by spoonful, split open to cradle the warm, savory mixture. The sauce soaked in, the biscuit held firm, and every bite was warm, rich, and grounding.
It was depression era know-how with 1960s comfort. A dish that said, “We might not have much, but tonight we’re eating like royalty.” Dish 15. Hot dog hash. Back in the day, hot dogs weren’t just for cookouts. They were cheap, easy, and endlessly flexible. Enter hot dog hash, the skillet savior of busy weekn nights and budget-minded moms.
It didn’t come from a box or a cookbook. It came from pure homespun ingenuity. Chopped hot dogs sizzled in a cast iron pan alongside diced potatoes and onions, sometimes joined by bell peppers or leftover vegetables. Everything got fried until golden and crisp, then seasoned with salt, pepper, and maybe a splash of ketchup or woristersher to tie it all together.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it got the job done and then some. Served with a fried egg on top or a spoonful of mustard on the side, it was breakfast for dinner without the fuss. Hot dog hash was proof that a skillet, some scraps, and a little bit of love could turn into something worth remembering. It didn’t cost much, but it tasted like home. Dish 16.
Ham and noodle bake. If you had leftover ham after Sunday dinner, and you usually did, this dish was Monday’s answer. Ham and noodle bake was one of those casserles that quietly did its job without demanding attention. It was the kind of dish that filled a 9 by13 pan and a whole table of hungry mouths. You started by boiling egg noodles until just tender, draining them and mixing them with chunks of ham, a can of cream of mushroom soup or celery depending on the cupboard, a little milk and shredded cheese. Some folks like to add peas or a
pinch of garlic powder for good measure, but it was always flexible, made to use what you had. Once it was all stirred together and poured into a butter dish, it got a topping. crushed crackers, maybe corn flakes, or just a handful of extra cheese. And then it baked until golden and bubbling.
The result was creamy, savory, and soothing. A little salty, a little crispy on top, and perfect for seconds. It didn’t show off. It just showed up hot, hearty, and quietly proud. The kind of meal that made the most of leftovers and turned them into something that felt brand new. Dish 17. Beefy rice skillet. Sometimes all you had was a pound of ground beef and a prayer.
And in the 1960s, that’s all you really needed. The beefy rice skillet was one of those one pan wonders that came together faster than the kids could say, “What’s for dinner?” It started with browning the ground beef in a big skillet alongside chopped onion and maybe some green bell pepper if you had one lying around.
Once the meat was cooked through and seasoned with salt, pepper, and maybe a dash of paprika, in went the uncooked white rice, straight into the pan, followed by a can of stewed tomatoes or tomato sauce and a splash of water or broth. Covered and simmered low and slow, the rice soaked up all the juices, puffing up into a tomato tinged beef infused base that felt far fancier than it actually was.
Sometimes folks added frozen corn or a pinch of chili powder for flare. It was hearty, humble, and just exotic enough to feel new, even if it was made from the same old ingredients. And best of all, fewer dishes to clean. A skillet, a spoon, and a satisfied family. That’s all you needed. Dish 18.
Salisbury steak with mushroom gravy. This was the 1960s version of steak night. Salsbury style. It was the kind of dish that felt a little bit fancy, but was still cheap enough to make on a week night. No sirloin in sight, just ground beef, breadcrumbs, egg, and seasoning molded into patties, browned in a skillet, and finished in a rich, savory gravy.
The magic was in the mushrooms. Sliced button mushrooms browned in butter, added just the right touch of earthiness to the gravy. A splash of worcershir sauce, maybe a spoonful of ketchup or mustard, and a slurry of flour and broth thickened it all to a rich, glossy sheen. Once the steaks were nestled back into the skillet and simmered until tender, the whole thing was spooned over mashed potatoes or white bread, maybe with a dollop of canned green beans on the side.
Salsbury steak made you feel like you were eating something special, even if it came from a humble place. It was elegance on a dime, a little reminder that comfort and class could share a plate, especially when gravy was involved. Dish 19. Liver and onions. Now, here’s a dish that’ll split a room faster than you can say iron rich.
Liver and onions was either loved or loathed. But in the 1960s, it was a household regular. Not just because liver was cheap, but because folks believed in feeding their families with purpose. And liver, well, that was considered brain food. Thinly sliced beef liver got dredged in flour, then seared in a hot skillet until browned, but still tender if done right.
The trick was not to overcook it, which turned it from silky to shoe leather in 60 seconds flat. Onions were cooked separately until sweet and caramelized, then piled high on top of the liver like a golden crown. Sometimes a splash of vinegar or a pat of butter tied it all together into a surprisingly rich, deeply savory meal. For those who grew up with it, liver and onions wasn’t a punishment.
It was tradition. A meal that tasted like your mom meant business. And for all its strong opinions, it carried a kind of old school pride. It said, “We eat every part and we eat it well.” Dish 20. Goulash, American style. Not quite Hungarian, but entirely American. 1960s. Goulash was the casserole that didn’t need a casserole dish.
It was stove top comfort, meaty, tomatoey, and built to feed a crowd with whatever was in the cupboard. You’d start by browning ground beef in a big pot with onion and garlic. Then stir in elbow macaroni, canned tomatoes, diced or stewed, a spoonful of tomato paste, and a generous splash of water or broth. Paprika gave it a whisper of Eastern Europe, but the heart of the dish was unmistakably American.
It simmerred until the pasta was tender and the sauce thickened around it like a hug. Sometimes cheese went in, sometimes corn, sometimes worershir or Italian seasoning, depending on whose grandma you were talking to. American goulash was a dish of many names and endless variations, but always the same goal. Stretch the meat, fill the bellies, and warm the soul.
It didn’t require skill, just a big spoon and a hungry family. Dish 21. Jello salad with cottage cheese. Jell-O salad with cottage cheese was the perfect dish for the 1960s. Colorful, creamy, and surprisingly satisfying. It began with a box of Jell-O, typically lime or strawberry, which was mixed with cottage cheese, fruit, often canned pineapple, and sometimes mini marshmallows or nuts.
The result was a bright, wobbly salad that could double as a side dish or dessert. Cottage cheese added texture and a slight tang, which balanced out the sweetness of the Jell-O and fruit. It was a clever way to combine creamy and fruity elements into one dish, and it was a staple at church potluckss and family gatherings.
Jello- salad with cottage cheese may have seemed a bit quirky, but it was a playful, delicious reminder of a time when creative cooking was all about using the ingredients at hand and turning them into something fun and unforgettable. Dish 22, ambrosia salad. Ambrosia salad was a sugary creamy favorite that made regular appearances at holidays and potlucks in the 1960s.
Its combination of whipped topping, canned fruit cocktail, shredded coconut, and mini marshmallows made it the ultimate sweet salad. This dessert salad hybrid was simple to make. Just mix the ingredients together and refrigerate until chilled. Sometimes a spoonful of sour cream was added to cut through the sweetness, giving it a slight tang.
The marshmallows and coconut added texture, while the fruit cocktail brought bursts of sweetness in each bite. The dish’s bright pastel colors made it visually appealing and festive, fitting for any special occasion. Ambrosia salad was both comforting and indulgent, serving as a creamy tropical treat that could easily satisfy a sweet tooth.
It may have been considered a bit retro by today’s standards, but it remains a beloved taste of nostalgia. Dish 23. Three bean salad. Three bean salad was a common fixture at 1960s potlucks and picnics. Beloved for its tangy marinade and vibrant colors. A mix of green beans, wax beans, and kidney beans formed the base with sliced onions and a bracing vinegar dressing to bring it all together.
The dressing was typically a combination of oil, vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper, often with a bit of mustard or celery seed for added flavor. Once tossed, the salad was chilled, allowing the flavors to melt and the beans to soak up the zesty marinade. This salad was easy to make ahead and could last for days in the fridge, making it a convenient side dish.
It was a refreshing contrast to heavier meals, providing a crunchy, vinegary bite. While not particularly gourmet, three bean salad was an enduring nostalgic favorite known for its simplicity and tangy punch. Dish 24, pee and peanut salad. Pea and peanut salad was a quirky and surprisingly satisfying dish that combined the sweetness of peas with the salty crunch of peanuts.
It was often served at gatherings and picnics in the 1960s thanks to its easy to make and no cook nature. The base of this dish was simple. Canned peas drained and mixed with roasted peanuts along with a creamy dressing made from mayonnaise and sometimes sour cream or mustard. Some recipes even added shredded cheese or celery for extra texture and flavor.
It was a perfect balance of creamy, salty, and crunchy elements that brought an unusual but delightful combination to the table. Pea and peanut salad may have seemed like an odd mix to some, but it was a perfect example of the creative cooking that defined mid-century kitchens, taking unexpected ingredients and transforming them into something delicious and memorable. Dish 25.
Marinated carrot salad, copper pennies. Copper pennies or marinated carrot salad was a favorite salad in the 1960s. Served at family gatherings and special occasions, the dish was known for its vibrant orange color and tangy sweet marinade, which made the carrots both crunchy and flavorful. Sliced carrots were boiled until tender, then chilled and tossed in a marinade made from vinegar, oil, sugar, and a touch of mustard, with some recipes adding celery seed or bell pepper for extra flavor.
The salad was allowed to marinate in the fridge, allowing the carrots to soak up the zesty dressing. The result was a refreshing, slightly sweet, and tangy side dish with a satisfying crunch. Copper Pennies was not only inexpensive and easy to prepare, but it also stored well, making it a great option for parties or picnics.
It was a nostalgic favorite, offering a playful twist on the usual vegetable salad. Dish 26, frogy salad. Frog eyee salad is a quirky retro dessert that gained popularity in the 1960s. Despite its unusual name, this dish was a hit at potlucks and holiday gatherings. The frog eyes are actually a sini de pepe pasta, tiny pasta pearls that absorb the sweet, tangy flavors of the other ingredients.
To make it, you cook the pasta, then mix it with whipped topping, canned pineapple, marshmallows, and sometimes coconut. The sweet tart dressing was typically made with sugar, vinegar, and a bit of flour to thicken it. The pasta was the secret ingredient, giving the salad its unique texture and earning it the name frog eyes.
Served chilled, frog eye salad was creamy, fruity, and satisfying. Its combination of chewy pasta, juicy pineapple, and fluffy whipped topping made it a comforting dessert that embodied mid-century creativity. It may have been odd, but it was deliciously memorable. Dish 27. Pineapple cheese casserole.
Pineapple cheese casserole was a 1960s favorite that combined sweet and savory in a surprising yet satisfying way. This dish had an unexpected twist. Tangy pineapple paired with sharp cheddar cheese, all baked together in a creamy casserole. The casserole was made by mixing canned pineapple with shredded cheddar cheese, sugar, and sometimes breadcrumbs for texture.
The mixture was then baked until golden and bubbling with the cheese creating a savory melted topping over the sweet pineapple. Pineapple cheese casserole might seem unusual to modern pallets, but it was loved for its bold combination of flavors. The balance between the sweetness of the pineapple and the saltiness of the cheese was a favorite at holiday meals and church dinners.
It was easy to prepare, unique, and most importantly, a crowd-pleaser, a quintessential dish of mid-century comfort food. Dish 28. Celery Victor. Celery Victor was a simple yet surprisingly elegant salad that captured the mid-century love for fresh yet effortless dishes. Named after the famous San Francisco restaurant where it was created, this dish became a staple in 1960s kitchens.
Celery was blanched and chilled, then dressed in a tangy vinegrett made of olive oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper. It was often garnished with chopped parsley or sometimes grated cheese to add extra flare. The celery retained a delightful crispness and served as the perfect refreshing contrast to richer meals.
Celery Victor was often served as an appetizer or side dish, offering a light, zesty bite before the main course. It was beloved for its simplicity and ability to stand out without being overly complicated. It remains a delicious reminder of a time when less was more, and fresh ingredients were celebrated for their natural flavors. Dish 29, glorified rice.
Glorified rice was a sweet, creamy dish that became a popular dessert or salad in the 1960s. Despite its name, it was more like a rice pudding combined with fruit, making it a comforting treat at family gatherings. The base was cooked rice, often mixed with sweetened condensed milk or whipped cream for a rich, creamy texture.
Pineapple, mariscino cherries, and sometimes mini marshmallows were added to give it color and flavor. The dish was chilled until firm, and the sweetness made it feel more like a dessert than a salad. Glorified rice was simple to make and could be prepared ahead of time, making it perfect for potlucks and holiday dinners.
Though it may seem retro, it remains a nostalgic favorite for many, offering a sweet, creamy bite that balances both texture and flavor in every spoonful. Dish 30. Baked beans with brown sugar. Baked beans with brown sugar was a classic hearty side dish that brought both sweetness and depth to the table. It was a favorite during the 1960s.
Often served with barbecues, grilled meats, or as a comforting side for a family dinner. The dish started with canned baked beans, which were then enhanced with brown sugar, molasses, mustard, and sometimes bacon. The addition of brown sugar helped caramelize the beans, creating a sweet, sticky glaze that complimented the savory flavors of the beans and bacon.
After baking, the beans were tender and coated in a rich, syrupy sauce. Baked beans with brown sugar was the epitome of simple, satisfying food. Just the right mix of sweet and savory. It could be made in advance and reheated, making it perfect for large gatherings. This dish remains a nostalgic favorite, showcasing the simplicity of 1960s comfort food. Dish 31.
Canned green bean casserole. Canned green bean casserole became the quintessential side dish of the 1960s, especially at holiday gatherings. Created using green beans from a can, it was easy, inexpensive, and comforting. The beans were combined with cream of mushroom soup, which added creaminess and richness, and a bit of milk to thin it out. Then the magic happened.
Crispy fried onions were sprinkled on top, giving the dish a savory, crunchy finish. Baked in the oven, the casserole was bubbly and golden with that irresistible crispy onion topping. The beauty of canned green bean casserole was its simplicity. It could be made ahead, baked, and served without fuss, leaving the cook with more time to focus on the main dish.
While its origins were humble, this casserole became a beloved classic, a reminder of an era when convenience foods and family meals went handin hand. Dish 32, molded cranberry salad. Molded cranberry salad was a holiday favorite that made an appearance at many festive dinners during the 1960s. Made with canned cranberry sauce, gelatin, and a few extra ingredients like nuts and citrus zest.
This bright, wobbly dish was more than just a side. It was a conversation starter. The gelatin was often mixed with orange or lemon juice and chilled in a mold until firm. The result was a tart, sweet, and texturally interesting salad that paired wonderfully with the rich flavors of turkey and ham. Some recipes called for crushed pineapple or walnuts to add texture and sweetness, making the mold a festive textured treat.
Though it might seem a bit dated now, molded cranberry salad was a clever way to get the family to eat something healthy with dinner while indulging in a sugary gelatin-based delight. It was both fun and practical for a busy kitchen. Dish 33, buttered cabbage. Buttered cabbage was the epitome of humble comfort food in the 1960s.
It required just a few basic ingredients: cabbage, butter, salt, and pepper. The cabbage was cut into wedges, boiled or steamed until tender, and then tossed in a generous amount of melted butter, which made it rich and flavorful. Although simple, the dish was filling and provided a muchneeded contrast to heavier, meteier meals.
The soft cabbage absorbed the buttery goodness, making each bite tender and satisfying. A touch of salt and pepper added a little zing to the flavor, elevating it to something more than just a side dish. Buttered cabbage didn’t ask for attention, but it delivered. It was a mainstay in many kitchens during the 60s, reminding us that sometimes the simplest dishes have the power to comfort and nourish.
Dish 34, macaroni salad with pickles. Macaroni salad with pickles was the potluck staple of the 1960s, offering a creamy, tangy side dish that everyone loved. The base was simple. Cooked elbow macaroni, mayonnaise, and a bit of mustard for sharpness. The real kicker was the addition of chopped dill pickles, which gave the salad a satisfying crunch and bright, tangy flavor.
Some variations included celery, onions, or hard-boiled eggs to add texture and richness. This salad was often made ahead of time, allowing the flavors to meld together overnight, making it an ideal dish for busy cooks who didn’t want to fuss at the last minute. Macaroni salad with pickles was often seen next to grilled burgers, fried chicken, or on a picnic table alongside potato salad.
The combination of creamy and tangy made it the perfect foil for rich meats, making it an enduring favorite for casual gatherings. Dish 35. Potato boats. Potato boats were an ingenious way to turn humble potatoes into something special. These twice baked spuds were scooped out, then filled with a creamy mixture of mashed potato, cheese, and sometimes sour cream or bacon.
After being refilled, they were baked again until golden and bubbly on top, creating a satisfying meal or side dish. While the preparation took a little time, the result was worth it. Crispy on the outside, soft and cheesy on the inside. Potato boats became a popular choice for dinners, particularly when there were leftovers to use up.
You could even fill them with various toppings such as chili or vegetables to suit different tastes. Not just a side dish, potato boats became a fun and customizable comfort food that was both affordable and filling, making them a go-to in many 1960s kitchens. Dish 36. Cornbread with bacon drippings. Cornbread with bacon drippings was a simple yet flavorful dish that brought a smoky richness to the table.
In the 1960s, bacon was a household staple, and its drippings were used not only to fry, but to add depth to many dishes. Cornbread was a perfect candidate for this savory trick. You’d start by mixing up a batch of basic cornbread batter with cornmeal, flour, sugar, eggs, and milk. Instead of using butter or oil, you’d pour in the bacon drippings for that irresistible smoky flavor.
The batter was poured into a hot cast iron skillet where it would crisp up at the edges, creating a golden, crunchy crust while remaining soft and fluffy inside. Served alongside beans, greens, or fried chicken, this cornbread was the epitome of comfort. The bacon drippings made it richer, and it quickly became a family favorite at the dinner table. Dish 37. Bisquick Drop Biscuits.
Bisquick Drop biscuits were the secret weapon for many busy 1960s home cooks. With no kneading or rolling required, these biscuits were quick, easy, and delicious. Using the ever popular Bisquick baking mix, you combined it with milk and a little butter to create a thick dough. The dough was simply dropped by spoonfuls onto a baking sheet and popped into the oven.
In no time at all, the biscuits baked into golden, flaky treats. They had a slightly crisp exterior and a soft, tender interior, perfect for serving alongside soups, stews, or roasted meats. Though these biscuits lacked the fuss of traditional recipes, they didn’t lack flavor. The buttery, fluffy texture made them a crowd-pleaser at dinner tables, and they were especially loved at Sunday suppers and holiday meals, where they effortlessly stole the show without any complex preparation.
Dish 38, white bread stuffing. White bread stuffing was a classic in 1960s kitchens. Simple, satisfying, and perfect for holiday meals. The recipe was based on white bread cubes, which were often left to dry out overnight, allowing them to soak up the flavors of the seasonings. You’d sauté onions and celery and butter, then combine them with the bread cubes, adding broth to moisten everything and make it flavorful.
Seasoned with sage, thyme, and pepper, it brought a comforting warmth to every bite. Sometimes a little sausage, apple, or nuts made their way into the mix, but the classic version relied on the simplicity of the bread and vegetables. Stuffed inside a turkey or baked in a casserole dish, this stuffing was a staple for Thanksgiving and other special occasions.
It was hearty and humble, and its ability to soak up gravy made it an essential part of every meal. Dish 39. Camed corn spoon bread. Creamed corn spoon bread was a dish that combined the best of two worlds: cornbread and corn pudding. This southern classic became a favorite in 1960s kitchens, offering a sweet and savory side dish that paired perfectly with meats and greens.
The dish started with a simple cornbread base, but the addition of creamed corn and sometimes a bit of sugar transformed it into something more indulgent. Eggs and milk helped bind it together into a creamy custard-like consistency that was still slightly firm. It was baked until golden and just set in the middle.
When served, spoon bread was scooped onto plates like a creamy casserole with a slight sweetness and savory corn flavor in every bite. Whether as a side to fried chicken or roast beef, it was the ideal comforting dish that could easily feed a crowd while offering just enough flavor to stand on its own. Dish 40.
Rice ring with creamed chicken. Rice ring with creamed chicken was a mid-century dish that elevated simple ingredients into something special. Perfect for a family dinner or potluck, this dish combined rice and chicken in a creative, eye-catching way. To make it, you cooked rice and mixed it with eggs, cheese, and sometimes vegetables.
The rice mixture was then packed into a ring mold, giving it a distinctive shape. The filling inside was made from creamed chicken. Chicken cooked in a creamy sauce with a bit of seasoning. When the ring was unmolded, the creamy chicken was nestled in the center. Baked until golden, the rice ring was a showstopper with its appealing shape and comforting flavors.
It was both practical and beautiful, making use of leftover chicken while impressing guests with its presentation. The ring mold made it perfect for serving at gatherings, adding both elegance and practicality to the table. Dish 41. Watergate salad. Watergate salad is one of those retro desserts that brings together some unexpected ingredients.
green Jell-O, whipped topping, crushed pineapple, and mini marshmallows into a fluffy pastel colored concoction. Named after the infamous political scandal, this dish became a staple at potlucks and family gatherings in the 1970s, though its roots go back to the late60s. You’d start by dissolving the lime Jell-O in hot water, then folding in a can of drained crushed pineapple, mini marshmallows, and whipped topping.
The result, a creamy, slightly tangy salad, or dessert, depending on who you ask, that had just the right amount of sweetness and fluffiness. Watergate salad was as much about its quirky charm as its flavor. A bowl full of this dish became a conversation piece as much as a treat. And it’s the kind of dish that will always remind you of a simpler, carefree time. Dish 42. Wacky cake.
Depression cake. Wacky cake, also known as depression cake, is a no eggs, no milk, no butter cake that was created during the Great Depression. It became a popular dish in the 1960s due to its simplicity and affordability. Despite being made from humble ingredients, it somehow produced a moist, decadent dessert.
The beauty of wacky cake was in its ease. You mixed all the dry ingredients in a pan, made three small wells for vinegar, vanilla, and oil, poured water over the top, and stirred everything together. No mixer, no fuss. Baked until golden, it came out light and slightly crumbly with a rich chocolatey flavor. Often topped with powdered sugar, this cake was a reminder of how creative cooking can be.
It was the perfect dessert for those with limited ingredients, and it still remains a nostalgic favorite that feels like a piece of history in every bite. Dish 43, cherry dump cake. Cherry dump cake is as easy to make as it sounds, and it’s deliciously comforting, too. Popular in the 1960s for its simplicity and ability to feed a crowd, this dessert required little more than a few pantry staples.
You start by dumping a can of cherry pie filling into a baking dish, followed by a box of yellow cake mix and top it with pats of butter. No mixing required, just layer and bake. As it baked, the butter melted and the cake mix formed a golden, crumbly topping over the sweet, syrupy cherry filling. Though the cake didn’t require any finesse, it had a satisfying warmth that made it perfect for potlucks, family dinners, or a Sunday dessert.
It was simple, sweet, and fun. embodying the spirit of easy cooking from the era. And of course, it left everyone asking for seconds. Dish 44. Banana pudding with Nilla Wafers. Banana pudding with Nilla Wafers is a classic southern dessert that became a household favorite in the 1960s.
The beauty of this dish was in its layers of simplicity. It starts with sliced bananas placed in a dish and layered with villa wafers. Then a creamy vanilla pudding, often made from a mix, was poured over the top and allowed to set. The real magic happened when the dessert chilled, and the vanilla wafers softened into a cake-like texture.
The result was a velvety, sweet, and comforting treat that paired perfectly with the creaminess of the pudding and the crunch of the wafers. Banana pudding was a dessert that required little prep time, but packed big flavor. Whether served at family gatherings or as a weekn night treat, it’s a dessert that stuck around for good reason.
It’s downright delicious. Dish 45. Mock apple pie. Ritz cracker pie. Mock apple pie made with Ritz crackers instead of apples was a depression era dish that carried over into the 1960s as an affordable alternative to apple pie. It was made using Ritz crackers as a stand-in for apples layered with a mixture of sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice, creating a surprisingly apple pie-like taste.
The filling was thickened with cornstarch and sometimes vinegar, which helped mimic the tartness of real apples. Once the pie was baked, it emerged with a golden crispy crust and a sweet syrupy filling that tasted strikingly like apple pie, even though no apples were involved. This pie became a go-to for frugal home cooks.
and its cleverness made it a hit in many households. It was resourceful, inventive, and satisfying, proving that even in tough times, creativity in the kitchen could lead to sweet success. Dish 46. Pineapple upside down cake. Pineapple upside down cake was a showstopper in the 1960s, making its way into nearly every family celebration and Sunday dinner.
It’s a cake with a sense of drama, flipping over to reveal golden caramelized pineapple rings. Maroscino cherries and a syrupy glaze that’s both sweet and a little tangy. The base of the cake is simple. Flour, sugar, eggs, and butter. But the magic happens when brown sugar and butter are melted in a pan, creating a syrupy layer to hold the pineapple and cherries in place.
The cake batter is poured over the top, baked until golden, then flipped over to reveal the stunning upside down fruit. This dessert was perfect for impressing guests and satisfying a sweet tooth. It was easy to make with ingredients that were often already on hand, making pineapple upside down cake both a practical and festive treat. Dish 47.
Oatmeal scotchis. Oatmeal scotchis are a chewy, sweet, and buttery treat that was a hit in the 1960s. These cookies put a spin on the classic oatmeal cookie by adding butterscotch chips, making them extra special. The combination of rolled oats, brown sugar, and those rich butterscotch morsels made every bite a delightful balance of texture and sweetness.
You start with a basic oatmeal cookie dough, mixing butter, sugar, and eggs, and then stir in oats and butterscotch chips. After shaping the dough into small balls and baking them, the result is a golden brown, soft, chewy cookie with a sweet butterscotch flavor in every bite. While oatmeal cookies were already a favorite, oatmeal scotchies brought something a little extra to the table.
They were easy to make and perfect for a quick snack, potluck, or a dessert to share with friends and family. Dish 48. Magic cookie bars. Magic cookie bars were one of those simple yet satisfying desserts that could be made quickly, and they always disappeared fast. Layers of graham cracker crumbs, sweetened condensed milk, chocolate chips, coconut, and nuts came together in a baking pan, creating a gooey, sweet bar that was perfect for any occasion.
To make them, you start by pressing the graham cracker crust into a pan and layering it with chocolate chips, coconut flakes, and nuts like walnuts or pecans. A can of sweetened condensed milk is poured over the top to bind it all together. After baking until golden and bubbling, you’re left with a rich, chewy bar that satisfies every sweet craving.
Magic cookie bars were perfect for busy days when you wanted something homemade without spending hours in the kitchen, and they became a staple at potlucks and family gatherings. Dish 49. Tapioca pudding. Tapioca pudding was a beloved dessert in the 1960s, offering a creamy, comforting treat that could be enjoyed by both children and adults.
The little pearls of tapioca softened into a thick velvety custard as it cooked, making it a unique texture experience in every spoonful. The basic ingredients were simple. Tapioca, milk, sugar, and eggs. A bit of vanilla extract often added a warm, fragrant note. The tapioca pearls needed to cook slowly, absorbing the milk and sugar to form a creamy pudding-like consistency.
Tapioca pudding could be served warm or chilled, topped with whipped cream or a sprinkle of cinnamon. It was an easy dessert to prepare in advance, making it a perfect choice for family dinners. Simple yet satisfying, tapioca pudding continues to evoke nostalgia, reminding us of cozy kitchens and a time when dessert was a comforting homemade delight. Dish 50. Mock apple pie.
Ritz cracker pie. Mock apple pie made with Ritz crackers instead of apples was an ingenious creation that came out of necessity during the Great Depression. By the 1960s, it became a quirky dessert that was surprisingly loved, even though it used no apples at all. The apple filling was made with crushed Ritz crackers, sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice.
It was thickened with cornstarch and baked in a pie crust until golden and bubbly. The Ritz crackers when baked mimicked the texture of soft apple filling and absorbed the sweet syrup, creating a flavor that was reminiscent of apple pie. Though it wasn’t exactly the real thing, mock apple pie was a clever solution for families looking for an apple pie substitute.
Despite its unconventional ingredients, it was surprisingly delicious, offering the familiar flavors of a warm, fruity dessert without the need for fresh apples. Dish 51. Jelly chicken loaf. Jelly chicken loaf was one of those dishes that raised eyebrows yet somehow became a staple in many 1960s kitchens. Its secret, that jiggly gelatin that enveloped tender shredded chicken, vegetables, and sometimes a hint of curry powder.
The meatloaf was seasoned, often mixed with hard-boiled eggs or chopped onions, then poured into a gelatin base made from chicken broth or consom. After a stint in the fridge, the gelatin firmed up, creating a wobbly loaf that could be sliced like cold cuts. While it might not have had the charm of other dishes, jellied chicken loaf was practical.
It stretched a small amount of meat into a meal, perfect for picnics or light suppers. It may not be making a comeback, but it still embodies the creativity and resourcefulness of the era, and its quirky texture brings a touch of history to the table. Dish 52. Spam and LMA bean casserole. Spam and LMA bean casserole was a depression era classic that made its way into 1960s homes as a reliable cheap dinner.
Spam, the beloved canned meat, was sliced and layered with frozen lima beans and a creamy sauce, often made from canned mushroom soup. Some cooks added onions or a sprinkle of cheese for a touch of flavor variety. Baked in the oven, the casserole transformed into a hearty, if humble, meal. The salty richness of spam paired with the buttery texture of limema beans all bound together by the creamy sauce made for a filling dish that didn’t require fresh ingredients.
While it might not be winning any culinary awards today, spam and lima bean casserole was a resourceful solution during lean times. It provided comfort and nutrition, and for many, it was a nostalgic favorite. Dish 53. Canned hamburger patties. Canned hamburger patties were an invention that seemed to promise a quick and easy dinner, even if the thought of canned meat might raise some eyebrows today.
These ready to serve patties were made from ground beef packed in a can, often paired with a thick, savory gravy. Once opened, the patties were fried or simmered in the pan, often alongside onions, until the beef was browned and the gravy was thickened. They were served with mashed potatoes, rice, or bread, making for a filling meal that could be made in a pinch.
While it wasn’t gourmet, it was a cheap, convenient option for busy households in the 1960s. Canned hamburger patties weren’t about fancy ingredients. They were about practicality and comfort. Today, they remain a reminder of simpler times when every meal didn’t need to be a culinary adventure. Sometimes, all it took was a can and a skillet.
Dish 54. Pickle and pimento loaf sandwich. The pickle and pimento loaf sandwich was a true representation of mid-century culinary creativity. This deli meat, pink, speckled with green pickles and red pimentos, was sliced thin and served between two pieces of soft white bread. Often paired with a slice of American cheese, the sandwich wasn’t just about flavor.
It was about using what was available. The loaf itself, a combination of processed meat and briny pickles, gave it a tangy, salty flavor that was balanced out by the bread and cheese. It was simple, economical, and a little bit quirky. Just the kind of food you’d find in lunch boxes or on picnic tables. While it may not be the most celebrated sandwich today, the pickle and pimento loaf sandwich captured the spirit of the era.
It was the kind of meal you could whip up quickly. And while its origins may raise some eyebrows, it’s undeniably nostalgic for those who grew up with it. Dish 55. Sardine spread on toast. Sardine spread on toast was the epitome of resourceful eating. Canned sardines, often mixed with mayonnaise, mustard, or a little lemon juice, were spread on toasted bread, creating a quick, protein-packed meal.
The strong flavor of the sardines paired perfectly with the crunch of the toast, making each bite an acquired taste. While sardines were a pantry staple in many households during the 1960s, sardine spread on toast was often a lunch or light dinner choice. The spread could be made ahead of time, and the simple ingredients could easily be kept in the cupboard for months.
For those who enjoyed the taste of the ocean, this dish was a humble, filling choice. Sardine spread on toast wasn’t about refinement. It was about making the most of inexpensive ingredients, offering a bit of protein and flavor when there was little else to spare. For some, it was a meal filled with memories. Dish 56. Deled ham dip.
Deled ham dip was a party favorite and an unexpected delight for 1960s snack trays. Made from canned develed ham, mayonnaise, mustard, and often a dash of hot sauce or worershir sauce, this spread was the perfect blend of tangy, creamy, and savory. It came together in minutes. Ideal for those last minute gatherings when you needed something quick and delicious.
Served with crackers, raw veggies, or toasted bread, the dip was a hit at everything from cocktail parties to casual picnics. The creamy texture combined with the distinctive flavor of develed ham made it both comforting and a little bit adventurous. Though it may seem unusual to modern tastes, develed ham dip was a product of its time, making use of convenient canned ingredients to create a satisfying, flavorful spread.
It’s a reminder of an era when creative cooking came from pantry staples and a dash of resourcefulness. Dish 57. Canned corned beef hash. Canned corned beef hash was a go-to meal for those who needed something quick, filling, and comforting. In the 1960s, corned beef in a can was an economical choice that came to life when sauteed with potatoes and onions in a skillet.
The dish was simple. Open the can of corn beef, break it up into small pieces, and fry it until crispy and golden. Paired with eggs or served on its own, it was a hearty breakfast, lunch, or dinner that didn’t require a lot of effort, but still provided a satisfying meal. Its popularity lay in its simplicity and versatility.
The saltiness of the corn beef paired beautifully with the crispy potatoes, making it a crowd-pleaser. Canned corned beef hash was proof that a bit of ingenuity could transform inexpensive pantry items into a meal that felt like comfort, however unrefined it may have been. Dish 58. Vienna sausage surprise.
Vienna sausage surprise was a simple, quirky dish made with Vienna sausages, which were tiny canned sausages and broth. In the 1960s, this dish reflected a time when convenience foods ruled the kitchen. The sausages were often sliced and added to a variety of other canned ingredients like baked beans, tomato sauce, or even macaroni. What made Vienna sausage surprise stand out was the surprise part, a hodgepodge of whatever ingredients you had on hand.
Sometimes it was topped with cheese or mixed with rice, and often it was served over mashed potatoes or with a slice of bread for dipping. Though it might sound like an odd combination today, it was a quick and easy solution for a filling meal. With just a few pantry staples, Vienna Sausage Surprise turned canned food into a surprisingly comforting dish for the busy home cook. Dish 59.
Egg and olive sandwich spread. Egg and olive sandwich spread was one of those retro creations that felt both fancy and practical at the same time. Hard-boiled eggs were mashed and combined with finely chopped green olives and mayonnaise, often with a dash of mustard for flavor. The result was a tangy, creamy spread that went perfectly on soft white bread or crackers.
This spread was a favorite for lunch boxes, picnics, and afternoon teas, offering a unique flavor combination that was both hearty and refreshing. The green olives brought a briny contrast to the creamy eggs, creating a satisfying balance of flavors. Though it may not be the go-to sandwich spread of today, egg and olive sandwich spread captured the essence of 1960s home cooking.
Practical, flavorful, and made with ingredients you probably already had in the pantry. For many, it remains a fond, if quirky, memory of simpler times and simple meals. Dish 60. Tang gelatin mold. The Tang gelatin mold was an iconic mid-century dessert that was both fun and fruity. Made with the popular orange flavored Tang drink mix, this gelatin dessert was a staple at many potlucks and family gatherings in the 1960s.
Tang combined with gelatin created a citrusy sweet treat that jiggled delightfully on the table. To make it, you dissolve Tang drink mix in hot water, add gelatin, and pour the mixture into a mold where it would chill and firm up into a vibrant, tangy dessert. Sometimes fruit like oranges or pineapples were added, turning the mold into a colorful spectacle.
Though it was seen as an affordable and fun dessert, the Tang gelatine mold was also a bit of a novelty. It was easy to make, served a crowd, and brought a burst of color and sweetness to any meal. Its legacy lives on as a nostalgic reminder of an era where jello- ruled the dessert table. And there you have it. 60 cheap dishes from the 1960s that no one makes anymore, but perhaps should.
Whether it was the humbleness of canned soup and boxed cake mixes or the unexpected creativity of jello- molds and mock meatloafs, these dishes were born from necessity. Yet, in their own quirky way, they became the fabric of family kitchens, potlucks, and dinner tables across the country. As we look back on these meals, it’s clear that the 1960s were a time of resourcefulness.
People didn’t have the convenience of delivery apps or pre-made meals. Instead, they relied on what was in the pantry, what could be stretched, and of course, a bit of creative ingenuity. Some dishes might make us laugh today, others might leave us scratching our heads. But each one was a reflection of a time when food was a way of showing love, care, and the ability to make do.
So, next time you’re digging around your kitchen looking for something to make, take a moment to think about these retro meals. They’re more than just recipes. They’re a history lesson, a peak into a simpler time when cooking meant taking what you had and turning it into something that filled bellies and made memories. Maybe it’s time to dust off that old jello mold, crack open a can of spam, or reintroduce the comforting warmth of a tuna noodle casserole.
These dishes have survived the test of time, and who knows, they just might surprise you. Thanks for joining me on this trip down memory lane. Until next time, happy cooking and remember, sometimes the cheapest meals are the ones that bring the most joy.
