There once was a potluck dish so outstanding that those who plopped a helping of it on their buffet plates inevitably returned for seconds. Most often, though, they were disappointed, because all they would find were some crisped edges along the top of the empty pan, along with a slightly gooey serving spoon.

It was never quite like anything else on the table — a satisfying counterpart to grilled fish, poultry or vegetables and a perfect match with spicy enchiladas and beans. Folks who had sworn off carbs would sneak forkfuls and seek out the recipe from the one who had brought it. And what greater compliment to the cook can there be?

You might expect that such a dish required time and great expense. Not so. It was a humble cheese and rice casserole, originally concocted by Ana, a woman from a mining town in northern Mexico. Ana was pegged as an awful cook — by members of her own family, even.

So how did she happen to turn out such a crowd pleaser? Not with great intentions, as it happens. When Ana married and moved to Richmond, Va., in the mid-1950s, there weren't many Mexican foods available there. Because she had grown up with servants preparing the meals in her house, she wanted to make only things that were simple, quick and hot.

If she returned from a market with tortillas, canned green chili peppers and a good white melting cheese, Ana was happy. She would cook whatever rice she had on hand, then layer it with the chilies, cheese and some heavy cream, probably since the crema she'd been raised on was not to be found.

The side dish was rich, so she served it only as a special treat, sometimes with beef and onion tacos. She called the recipe Arroz Veracruzano, and her husband loved it.

Her children grew to love it, too, and at least one of them committed the recipe to memory because Ana never wrote it down. Her daughter Liz made it for her own family over the years, creating a bit of depth and aroma by adding garlic powder to the rice's cooking water. Arroz Veracruzano became her fail-safe contribution to office parties.

That's where I first tasted it, back in the big '80s. Not too long ago, the recipe I'd written down squirted out of an old cookbook, and Arroz Veracruzano soon had its old-school effect on a neighborly cookout. It was all that I remembered: warm, creamy and chewy, with a little heat, but not set like a rice pudding. No big deal, but homey and pleasing.

Its richness also reminded me that its fat and cholesterol might be worrisome, so I tested the recipe a few times more with combinations of light cream, nonfat half-and-half, some Greek-style yogurt. Good enough, and not as bad when one is considering second helpings. (Check the comparative nutritional analyses at the end of the recipe.)

My former colleague Liz tells me her son made it last spring for his college roommates. Three generations and a new round of potluck fans!

Like a timeless fable, Ana's rice dish lives to be retold. She would have gotten a kick out of that.

This creamy side dish could be the right accompaniment for your next grilled beef, pork or fish — especially those marinated with Latin flavors.

The original recipe called for 2 cups of heavy cream, but a combination of nonfat half-and-half and light cream works, too. From Elizabeth George's mother, Ana.

ARROZ VERACRUZANO