French Onion Mac and Cheese

Nora turned three Saturday. We did a small dinner at home — me, Sean, Liam, Nora, my parents, Meghan and Brian and Aidan. Seven adults, three kids. Sean sat at the table for the meal. He had had a good week after cycle 3, and he had been sleeping eight hours a night instead of twelve, and his color was better than it had been since January. He ate most of a chicken breast and a scoop of mashed potatoes and a serving of the birthday cake. The cake was a small vanilla with pink buttercream, because Nora had decided her color was pink when asked, and we had honored the decision.

Nora turned three with the dignity of a small queen who had been expecting this. She wore a new dress my mother had brought her. She opened presents. She thanked each person. She blew out three candles in one breath. She ate the cake. She was exhausted by 6 PM. I put her to bed at 6:30. Aidan crashed on the couch at 6:45. Liam held on until 7:30 and then fell asleep sitting on the couch next to Sean, with his head on Sean's shoulder. Sean did not move for forty-five minutes. He let Liam sleep on him. I took a photograph.

The photograph is on my nightstand. Sean, bald, thin, in his worn cardigan, with our son asleep against him, the lamp on, the yellow of the living room in the winter evening. I will look at this photograph many times in the years to come. I know this already. I put it in a small frame and I set it where I can see it from the bed. Sean has not yet seen the photograph. I will show him tomorrow.

Roast Sunday — a small chicken, root vegetables, gravy. Sean came to the table. He ate most of a thigh. We all ate. Sean said "Kate. This is a good day." He meant it. It was a good day.

Cycle 4 starts Tuesday. I have moved the schedule around to accommodate. Sean rests Monday. Chemo Tuesday through Saturday. The pattern continues.

NP classes are intense. Midterms next week. I studied Wednesday through Saturday nights for six hours each. I am ready for the exams. I will pass them. Mid-90s on three. Mid-80s on one (the cardiology one, which I misjudged the question style on). I will learn from the 80. I will not be dramatic about it. A B is a passing grade.

My mother stayed Saturday night. She slept in the guest room. Sunday morning she made pancakes with Sean — she sat at the counter while Sean flipped them from the stool — and she had coffee with me after. She said "Katherine." I said "Ma." She said "I want to know what you need." I said "Ma. I need you to keep being you. I need the Sunday casseroles. I need you to take the kids sometimes. I need you at the hospital if it comes to it. I need you not to cry in front of me unless you really need to, because if you cry I will cry, and I do not have the energy for both of us." She said "okay, Katherine." She did not cry. She finished her coffee. She went home that afternoon. That is my mother.

Sunday roast is what I make when I need the day to mean something — and this past Sunday it meant everything. We did not have a grand feast; we had a small chicken, root vegetables, and gravy, and Sean came to the table and said it was a good day, and it was. When I make something like this French onion mac and cheese on a Sunday now, it carries that same weight: slow-cooked onions, something warm in a dish, everyone sitting down together. It is the kind of food that asks nothing of you except to be present, and that is exactly what we are all trying to do.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

12 oz elbow macaroni or cavatappi pasta
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
2 large yellow onions, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 cup dry white wine or low-sodium beef broth
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups whole milk, warmed
1/2 cup low-sodium beef or chicken broth
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1 1/2 cups shredded Gruyère cheese, divided
1 cup shredded sharp white cheddar cheese
1/2 cup shredded provolone or Swiss cheese
1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon olive oil
Fresh thyme or parsley, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Caramelize the onions. In a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven, melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. Add the sliced onions, sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring every 5–7 minutes, for 35–40 minutes until the onions are deep golden brown and very soft. Pour in the wine or broth, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Cook 2 more minutes until mostly absorbed. Transfer the caramelized onions to a bowl and set aside.
Cook the pasta. While the onions caramelize, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta 2 minutes less than the package directions (it will finish cooking in the oven). Drain and set aside.
Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 375°F (190°C).
Make the cheese sauce. In the same skillet over medium heat, melt the remaining 1 tablespoon of butter. Whisk in the flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Gradually whisk in the warm milk and broth until smooth. Add the Dijon mustard, Worcestershire sauce, black pepper, and dried thyme. Cook, stirring frequently, for 4–5 minutes until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon.
Add the cheese. Reduce heat to low. Add 1 cup of the Gruyère, all of the cheddar, and all of the provolone, stirring until fully melted and smooth. Season with additional salt to taste.
Combine. Stir the cooked pasta and caramelized onions into the cheese sauce until evenly coated. If your skillet is oven-safe, keep everything in the pan. Otherwise, transfer to a greased 9x13-inch baking dish.
Top and bake. In a small bowl, toss the panko breadcrumbs with the olive oil and remaining 1/2 cup Gruyère. Scatter evenly over the top of the pasta. Bake for 18–22 minutes until the top is golden and the edges are bubbling.
Rest and serve. Let the mac and cheese rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh thyme or parsley if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

French Onion Mac and Cheese — The Sunday Table We Keep Setting