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Four Cheese Macaroni — Elijah’s “Mo Nana Cheese” and the Constant at the Table

August. Back to school. Chloe enters seventh grade — her second year of middle school, the year where everything accelerates (friends, drama, the body changes I can see starting and she can feel starting and we haven't talked about them yet but we will, soon, at the kitchen table, with the overhead light, because Mitchells talk about bodies the same way they talk about everything: directly, with food, under good lighting).

Jayden enters third grade. Mrs. Kim (new teacher, Korean American, young, the kind of teacher who assigns creative writing prompts that make Jayden's fire truck stories feel validated rather than tolerated). He's excited. The cubby energy continues. The boy has loved every cubby he's ever had and the cubby-love is a personality trait now, not a phase.

Elijah enters his second year of preschool. Four years old next spring. He's at Little Hands five days a week and Miles is his best friend and the sandbox is his kingdom and the Orange Rule has softened (slightly — he now eats: yellow foods, which is an expansion of the color spectrum that I consider a breakthrough. Yellow: corn, bananas, scrambled eggs. The palette is widening. The palette will never be full-spectrum. But yellow is progress).

Sarah's Table, August: $23,100 revenue. The third consecutive month over $20,000. The numbers are: stabilizing. Not exploding (the television-driven surge has settled into a steady flow). The steady flow is better than the surge. The surge is exciting. The steady flow is a business. A real business. A business that has revenue, employees, regulars, a reputation, and a line that forms every Tuesday through Saturday at 11 AM. The business is real. The business has been real since the napkin. But the steady flow is the proof that the realness isn't temporary.

The Nashville Scene article led to something else: a nomination. Sarah's Table has been nominated for the Nashville Scene's "Best New Restaurant" award in their annual "Best of Nashville" issue. BEST NEW RESTAURANT. A nomination. Not a win — just a nomination. But the nomination is the thing that happens before the thing that happens. The nomination is the community saying: we see you. We see the six stools and the cast iron and the woman behind the counter. We see you. And we think you might be the best.

I made the back-to-school dinner: the annual. Chloe's choice (salmon with lemon butter — she's eleven and she chooses salmon and the choice confirms that I'm raising a food person). Jayden's choice (chicken nuggets — the boy's palette is fire-truck-focused but his stomach is reliable). Elijah's choice: "MO NANA CHEESE" — the mac and cheese, always, the constant. Three choices, three dishes, one table. The table that started with a dark kitchen in Antioch and is now: a restaurant on Gallatin Pike, a home in Hermitage, and a counter where strangers become family. The table is everywhere. Sarah's Table is everywhere.

Chloe got her salmon, Jayden got his nuggets, and Elijah — four years old, lord of the sandbox, committed Orange Rule survivor who now eats yellow — got his mac and cheese, same as every year, same as always. I’ve stopped trying to introduce variety into his bowl because the mac and cheese isn’t just dinner for him: it’s the anchor, the one thing that makes a new school year feel like something steady and safe. So I lean into it. I make it count. Four cheeses, because if the constant is going to be constant, it might as well be extraordinary.

Four Cheese Macaroni

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

Ingredients

  • 12 oz elbow macaroni
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 2 1/2 cups whole milk, warmed
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon dry mustard powder
  • Pinch of cayenne pepper
  • 3/4 cup sharp cheddar cheese, freshly shredded
  • 3/4 cup Gruyère cheese, freshly shredded
  • 1/2 cup fontina cheese, freshly shredded
  • 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs (optional, for topping)
  • 1 tablespoon butter, melted (optional, for topping)

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Cook the elbow macaroni according to package directions until just al dente, about 1 minute less than the package suggests. 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, whisking constantly, for about 1 to 2 minutes until the mixture turns lightly golden and smells nutty.
  3. Build the sauce. Slowly pour in the warm milk and heavy cream, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Continue to whisk over medium heat until the sauce thickens and coats the back of a spoon, about 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in the salt, pepper, mustard powder, and cayenne.
  4. Melt in the cheeses. Reduce heat to low. Add the cheddar, Gruyère, fontina, and Parmesan one handful at a time, stirring between additions until each is fully melted and the sauce is smooth and glossy.
  5. Combine. Add the drained pasta to the cheese sauce and stir to coat every noodle evenly. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
  6. Optional broiled topping. Transfer macaroni to a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. Toss breadcrumbs with melted butter and scatter evenly over the top. Broil on the top rack for 2 to 3 minutes, watching closely, until the topping is golden and crisp. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 580mg

Sarah Mitchell
About the cook who shared this
Sarah Mitchell
Week 382 of Sarah’s 30-year story · Nashville, Tennessee
Sarah is a single mom of three, a dental hygienist, and a Nashville girl through and through. She started cooking at eleven out of necessity — feeding her younger siblings while her mama worked double shifts — and never stopped. Her kitchen is tiny, her budget is tight, and her chicken and dumplings will make you want to cry. She writes for every mom who's ever felt like she's not doing enough. Spoiler: you are.

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