As a young boy, my grandmother used to regale me with tales of culinary ingenuity born from the Great Depression. From butter and lard sandwiches to ice cube soup for the weakest family member, she described these meals with a heavy heart, but also with an appreciation for what she has today. I always assumed the ways of the Great Depression meals were long gone, but then I got to college and realized they were alive and well. So, today, as we go through our greatest depressions in college, I have a great recipe to share with you all, one that anyone of any skill level can make. 

Ingredients:

• 1 of whatever you have in your fridge (expired milk, ketchup or ½ of a water bottle).
• 2 of whatever you have in your cabinet (½ of a stale bag of Doritos, a can with unknown substances inside, tuna or a loose pretzel).
• 1 strong stomach.
• 1 Ramen noodle cup.
• 1 leftover Hawk Wrap.
• 0 self-respect.
• Negative $40 in your bank account.

Step 1: Gather whatever is in your fridge. If you’re a common college student, that’s probably ketchup and whatever was leftover from last night’s party. Whatever it is, go ahead and grab it.

Step 2: Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. If you’re in a dorm, put the microwave on “popcorn mode” and hope for the best.

Step 3: Open the fridge again and see if any new food has appeared. Spoiler alert: it’s still just the ketchup.

Step 4: Cry.

Step 5: Raid your old tenants’ cabinets for sustenance. You might stumble upon forgotten relics like canned beans or corn that have an expiration date older than the rental house you live in. Next, thank the previous tenants for their unwitting contribution to your college meal.

Step 6: Spread a layer of canned goods and tuna in a casserole dish. If a dish is unavailable, use a paper plate. Take your leftover Hawk Wrap and spread it over the first layer, tortilla first. Then, add ketchup, whatever else you have in your fridge and garlic powder (optional). 

Step 7: Stare at the monstrosity you have created.

Step 8: Give up and make a cup of Ramen noodles instead. Garnish with that loose pretzel.

And, there you have it. A perfect college casserole. Grandma would be proud.