Two cartoons from the New Yorker issue of 12/15/25: Michael Maslin with a phrasal overlap portmanteau tribute to the state of Vermont (land of covered casseroles, for covered-dish socials, and rustic covered bridges); and Roz Chast, showing us Santa’s alarmed helpers when he can’t resist falling — once again — for clickbait.
A Green Mountain bridge. The Maslin:
(#1) covered casserole + covered bridge = covered casserole bridge
covered casseroles. From NOAD:
noun casserole: [a] a kind of stew or side dish that is cooked slowly in an oven: a chicken casserole. [b] a large covered dish, typically of earthenware or glass, used for cooking casseroles: heat the oil in a flameproof casserole.
Then from Merriam-Webster online::
compound noun covered-dish supper: a community meal to which each guest brings one dish, all dishes being shared by all [also known as a potluck]
Hence, a covered dish, brought to such a meal, and, specifically, a covered casserole.
covered bridges. From Wikipedia:
A covered bridge is a timber-truss bridge with a roof, decking, and siding, which in most covered bridges create an almost complete enclosure. The purpose of the covering is to protect the wooden structural members from the weather. Uncovered wooden bridges typically have a lifespan of only 20 years because of the effects of rain and sun, but a covered bridge can last over 100 years. In the United States, only about 1 in 10 survived the 20th century, The relatively small number of surviving bridges is due to deliberate replacement, neglect, and the high cost of restoration.
Surviving covered bridges often attract touristic attention due to their rarity, quaint appearance, and bucolic settings. Many are considered historic and have been the subject of historic preservation campaigns.
… About 14,000 covered bridges have been built in the United States, mostly in the years 1825 to 1875.
Mostly in the northeastern US, from New England to Ohio.
A personal note, from my 9/24/17 posting “A sapsucking planthopper”, about:
Wertz’s [Red Bridge], a significant feature of my childhood [outside of Reading PA], since I went through it on my bike on the way from home to the Reading airport (where I could get a tour of the region by air in a tiny plane). For me it was just the Red Bridge, over the Tully (the Tulpehocken Crick, as we knew it — where I swam with my cousins … and once fished with my dad).
The bridge over the Tulpehocken Creek (originally constructed in 1867), not far from where I grew up, was completely restored in 1984 and now serves as a tourist attraction.
Santa’s ill-advised click. The Chast:
(#2) No, no! Not Timmy Timmerson!
This is no wily Kris Kringle, but a terminally goofy old guy. How does he ever manage to get our Christmas presents delivered?
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