Tonight's Dinner Brought to You by the 1980s and the letters S, P, A, and M.

When I was growing up my mom made a heroic effort at cooking for our family. She never enjoyed cooking, but made us a meal every night. That said, my mom is not a great cook. One of my favorite dinners growing up was made by Hamburger Helper. In fact, I would guess that the majority of dinners we ate either came out of a box or out of the freezer. I didn't even realize that you could make beef stroganoff without the Hamburger Helper mix until I was in college.

These days Brynn and I have a broader (and fresher) range of foods that we eat. Sure I still buy the occasional box of Velveeta shells and cheese or Rice-a-roni, but Brynn has been exposed to hundreds of foods I'd never dreamed existed when I was 10. And yet, old palates die hard...

Recently I found myself craving my mom's potato casserole. As a kid I'd looked forward to this dinner, even requested it as my special birthday meal. So I called my mom and had her relay instructions to me over the phone. It's a simple recipe that, in retrospect, screams out "blue collar" and "1980s" all at once.

What you need: 6-8 potatoes (peeled, halved, and sliced about 1/8" thick), 2 cans of condensed Cream of Mushroom soup, half an onion (chopped), 1 can of SPAM (I chose the "healthier" turkey variety), pepper, and butter.

What you do: In a casserole dish (I used a glass cake pan) mix potato slices, soup, onion, pepper and SPAM (cut into 1/4" cubes). Dot the top liberally with butter. Bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes (or until potatoes are soft). Eat.

Get your weekly allotment of sodium and retro, all in one helping.

I know that the thought of a dinner with SPAM (and condensed soup on top of that) makes most stomachs turn. At this point in my life 40% of my friends won't eat any sort of meat, more or less mystery meat. I grew up loving this dinner though, and while I can recognize how unhealthy and unappealing it is, I can't get rid of that craving. For the record, Brynn's favorite thing about it was the "chicken." When I told her it wasn't chicken and she asked, "Well what is it then?" I just sort of shrugged my shoulders and changed the subject.

The greatest fact about this recipe though, and I only just learned this, is that it originated in a microwave cookbook. That's right. An entire book of recipes devoted to never turning on your stove. If you could eat the 80s, they would taste like this casserole.

Terrific Tuna Salad, without the Mayo (a Brynn-endorsed recipe)

Around our house, mayonnaise is more likely to expire than to find its way onto a sandwich. Really we just keep it around for the occasional hamburger. As a result, I ran into a dilemma: Brynn loves tuna on sandwiches, but hates mayo and relish. We experimented with a few alternatives, but this recipe has become our favorite tuna salad.

Ingredients:
- 1 can (or pouch) tuna in water
- 2 HEAPING tablespoons of hummus (our favorite is Sabra)
- 2 teaspoons of sundried tomato spread (for southern friends, Publix sells this in the produce section)
- 1/4 cup of feta crumbles (we like Athenos tomato and basil)

Drain your tuna. Combine ingredients. Mix. Enjoy.

No, it usually doesn't look this fancy.

My measurements are approximate. Add more or less to suit your tastes. If I was being more honest it would be "enough hummus to make the tuna stick together, enough sundried tomato spread to make the mixture a light red, and enough feta to make it delicious." I suspect that other sorts of cheese crumbles (blue for example) would work as well, but we can't get enough feta, so we stick with what works for us.

Wheat pitas (cut in half and opened up) make a perfect pouch for this tuna salad. We stuff a few fresh spinach leaves in there and call it lunch.