Jalapeño Mac and Cheese

The post-Thanksgiving rhythm — the leftover protocol, the turkey stock, the hash, the pot pie. I have made all three this week, the way I have made all three the week after Thanksgiving for forty years. The hash on Sunday morning, the pot pie Tuesday night, the stock simmering for five hours Monday afternoon and going into pint containers in the freezer for soups through the winter. The leftovers are always more interesting than the original meal — the bird hot from the oven is the show, but the bird converted into the second-day sandwich and the third-day hash and the fourth-day pot pie is the work of the cook, and the work is, for me, more satisfying than the show.

Made the first chowder of the season Wednesday — clam, the New England version with salt pork and potatoes and onions and milk and cream, brought up to a steam and held there. The chowder is one of the cool-weather staples and is the dish I make when I want a supper that is both satisfying and quick (relative to a stew or a braise — chowder is fast in the way only a soup with already-cooked clams can be fast). I ate it Wednesday with brown bread and was very content.

The first proper snow of the season came Friday — six inches overnight, the whole landscape reset to white by morning. I shoveled the path to the woodshed and the path to the road and the path to the bird feeder, the paths I have shoveled in this same configuration for the entire forty-five years since Helen and I moved in. The shoveling muscle memory is so deep that the body executes without consultation, the shovel finding the snow and lifting and tossing and finding again, the rhythm older than thought.

The Friday vets coffee — Phil ran his last December meeting before the handoff to Tom, and the room marked the transition with a small deliberate ceremony of his own design, which involved each of us telling a brief story of the first time we had come to one of his meetings. My story was about the call he made to me in November 2021, three weeks after Helen died, when he said: Walt, come down for coffee on Friday. The story I told the room was a short one and stuck to the facts, but everyone in the room understood what the call had meant, and Phil nodded at the end of the story without saying anything. The form of the gathering is what allows the substance of the gathering, and the substance is in things like the call Phil made in 2021 to a man he barely knew because he had heard the man's wife had died and that the man might need a place to be on Friday mornings.

The chowder was Wednesday’s answer to the cold, and it was the right one, but I have learned over these forty-five winters that the season asks for a repertoire rather than a single dish, and so I will share here a recipe that has earned its place in the cool-weather rotation alongside the chowder and the pot pie and the hash — a jalapeño mac and cheese that is quick in the way the chowder is quick, and satisfying in the way all good warm food is satisfying when the paths need shoveling and the woodshed is far from the door. Phil made a call to a man he barely knew because the man might need a place to be; this is the dish I make when I need a place to be in the kitchen.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz elbow macaroni
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups whole milk, warmed
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, freshly shredded
1/2 cup Monterey Jack cheese, freshly shredded
3 jalapeños, seeded and minced (leave seeds in one for more heat)
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the macaroni according to package directions until just al dente, about 7–8 minutes. Drain and set aside, reserving 1/4 cup of pasta water.
Soften the jalapeños. In a large heavy saucepan over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon of the butter. Add the minced jalapeños and cook, stirring, for 2–3 minutes until slightly softened. Remove and set aside.
Build the roux. In the same pan, melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the mixture smells faintly nutty and turns a pale gold.
Make the sauce. Gradually whisk in the warmed milk and heavy cream, pouring in a slow steady stream to avoid lumps. Continue whisking over medium heat until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 5 minutes.
Add cheese and seasoning. Reduce heat to low. Stir in the dry mustard, smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Add the cheddar and Monterey Jack in two or three additions, stirring until fully melted and smooth before adding the next. Return the cooked jalapeños to the pan.
Combine and finish. Add the drained macaroni to the cheese sauce and stir to coat evenly. If the sauce is too thick, loosen it with a splash of the reserved pasta water. Taste and adjust salt and heat. Serve immediately, directly from the pot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Jalapeño Mac and Cheese — The Comfort of Staying Warm When the Cold Comes In