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Best Gouda Mac and Cheese — The Dish That Made Our New Place Home

Memorial Day weekend, and instead of a cookout, we are knee-deep in moving preparation. The new apartment is a ten-minute walk from the old one — same complex, Building D instead of Building A — but the distance between two bedrooms and three bedrooms is measured in sanity, not feet. The third bedroom will be the nursery. Brianna has already picked the color: a soft yellow, gender-neutral, because we do not know yet and she wants to be surprised. I would also like to be surprised. I would also like to sleep through the night again, which is a surprise the new baby will deny me for approximately two years. Darius and Jerome came over to help move the big furniture. Darius brought his truck. Jerome brought Miss Doris's pound cake, because Jerome does not arrive anywhere empty-handed, a trait he learned from his grandmother and which I appreciate more than I can express. We moved the couch, the bed, the dresser, Aiden's toddler bed, and about forty boxes in four hours. Darius pulled something in his back but did not mention it until three days later, because Carter men do not acknowledge pain in real time. We acknowledge it later, quietly, to our wives, while asking for Advil. The new apartment feels enormous after the two-bedroom, which means it is adequate by normal standards. Aiden has his own room. The baby will have a room. Brianna and I have a room. The kitchen is slightly larger, with a window that faces the parking lot, which is not scenic but provides natural light, which Brianna says is important for the hair braiding she wants to start doing again once the baby is settled. Always a plan within the plan. I grilled burgers for the moving crew. Wait — I did not grill. I do not own a grill. Calvin grilled, using a small portable Weber he keeps in his car for exactly these occasions. But I bought the burgers. I bought the cheese and the buns and the mustard. I stood next to Calvin and watched him flip them and thought, for the first time with any real intent: I should learn to do this. Not just eat. Not just watch. Do. Mama dropped off a full pan of baked chicken and mac and cheese for the new apartment. She walked through every room, inspected every closet, opened every cabinet, and pronounced it "adequate," which from Mama is approval. She put the food in the kitchen and said, "Feed your family." I said, "Yes ma'am." She left. The apartment smelled like her food, and that smell made it home.

Mama’s pan of baked chicken and mac and cheese is the reason that apartment stopped feeling like a rental and started feeling like ours — that smell hit the kitchen and something just settled. I can’t recreate exactly what she does (she’ll take that to her grave), but this Gouda mac and cheese comes close enough to carry the same weight. Rich, smoky, and deeply creamy, it’s the kind of dish you make when the people around you have worked hard and deserve something that says, without words, you’re home now.

Best Gouda Mac and Cheese

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb elbow macaroni or cavatappi pasta
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 2 1/2 cups whole milk, warmed
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 2 cups smoked Gouda cheese, shredded (about 8 oz)
  • 1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
  • 1/2 cup Gruyere cheese, shredded
  • 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika, plus more for topping
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs (optional, for topping)
  • 1 tablespoon butter, melted (for topping, if using panko)

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until just al dente — do not overcook, as it will continue softening in the sauce. Drain and set aside.
  2. Make the roux. In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven, melt 3 tablespoons butter over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 to 2 minutes until the mixture turns light golden and smells nutty.
  3. Build the sauce. Slowly pour in the warm milk and heavy cream, whisking continuously to prevent lumps. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, for 5 to 7 minutes until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon.
  4. Add the cheese. Reduce heat to low. Add the shredded Gouda, cheddar, and Gruyere one handful at a time, stirring between additions until fully melted and smooth. Stir in the Dijon mustard, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper.
  5. Combine. Add the drained pasta to the cheese sauce and stir until every piece is fully coated. Taste and adjust seasoning.
  6. Optional baked finish. Transfer to a greased 9x13 baking dish. Toss panko with 1 tablespoon melted butter and a pinch of smoked paprika, then scatter over the top. Broil on high for 3 to 5 minutes until the topping is golden and the edges are bubbling. Watch closely — it goes fast under the broiler.
  7. Serve. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving. Best eaten warm, surrounded by people who earned it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 680 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 36g | Carbs: 62g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 580mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 61 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

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