Limited Edition Zine: Hotdish

WHY
HOTDISH?
W R I T T E N B Y C A S S I E R O G E R S
Minnesota’s unofficial state dish hit the heartland
following the Great Depression as a clever onedish
meal that stretched a pound of meat to feed a
hungry family. With strong ties to Scandinavian,
Irish, and German immigrant farmers, hotdish is a
story of adaptation, survival, and yes, whiteness.
As the masthead for Minnesotan food, hotdish
anchors Eurocentric identities but usually fails to
represent nonwhite communities that call
Minnesota home today.
At the same time, hotdish is soul food. The true
beauty of this entrée is that anything goes, so long
as it is served hot and in a dish, as the name
suggests. In times of scarcity, hotdish maximizes
pantry scraps, such as a forgotten can of soup or
veggies past their prime. Whatever the filling, the
only essential ingredients are convenience,
affordability, and nostalgia.
We need to reconcile this symbolic food with the
diverse communities and food scenes that are here
now. Hotdish connects to our search for identity as
Minnesotans.
Moreover, hotdish connects my own search for
identity as a biracial woman with my experience
growing up in Minnesota.
( A H o t d i s h H a i k u )
W A R M D I S H F O R C O L D
H A N D S
G O L D E N T O T S
C R O W I N G F L A V O R
M I N N E S O T A N S O U L
My father’s ancestors were Irish farmers who
settled in Iowa, where an affordable, potatocovered
dish would have been deeply revered. My
father’s mother, with whom I was very close,
raised twelve kids on her own and often served
hotdish as a trusty crowd-pleaser in troubled
times.
On the other hand, when my mother immigrated
here from The Philippines, she felt little