One-Pot Mac and Cheese

Grades posted. Biology: A. Chemistry: B+. English: A. Math: A-. First semester GPA: 3.78. Not 3.8. The Chemistry B+ is the difference, and I am choosing to see it as motivation rather than failure, because a B+ in freshman Chemistry while working, studying, and feeding half a dorm floor is not failure. It is the honest result of a semester in which I gave everything to everything and some things got slightly less of everything than others. MawMaw Shirley would say, "Don't rush the roux." The roux of my education is still darkening. I am still stirring. The color will come.

I moved back home for winter break and the house wrapped around me like a blanket. My room, which Mama has kept exactly as I left it — the poster holes, the bookshelf, the desk where I wrote my valedictorian speech — smells like home in a way that I did not know home had a smell until I went somewhere else and came back and recognized it. Laundry detergent and cooking and Daddy's aftershave and something unnamed that is just the house, just the wood and the paint and the years of living that a building absorbs and holds.

Mama made jambalaya Monday night. Monday. The tradition holds even when I am the only one home who cares about it, because Mama and I both know that traditions are not kept because they are convenient. They are kept because the keeping is the thing. MawMaw Shirley taught us this. The roux taught us this. You stir on Mondays because you stirred on Mondays last week and you will stir on Mondays next week and the continuity is the comfort.

I am going to Baker Saturday. MawMaw Shirley does not know I am coming — I want to surprise her, which is impossible because MawMaw Shirley always knows, she has a sixth sense for granddaughters approaching her kitchen, but the attempt at surprise is its own gift. I am bringing my grade report. She will look at the 3.78 and say something that is simultaneously encouraging and critical, because she contains multitudes, and then we will cook, and the cooking will be the real conversation, and the grades will be the footnote.

Mama’s jambalaya may own Mondays, but on every other night of break, it’s been this mac and cheese keeping me whole—the same one-pot recipe I made on my dorm hot plate when I needed to feel the kitchen back home without being in it. After a semester of stirring through Chemistry problem sets and feeding half my floor on a dining-hall budget, there is something deeply right about a pot of cheese and pasta that asks almost nothing of you and gives back everything. This is the dish that got me through finals week, and it is the dish I am bringing to MawMaw Shirley’s on Saturday, because even she will admit that a roux is not the only thing worth stirring.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb elbow macaroni
3 cups water
2 cups whole milk
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon mustard powder
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1 cup mild cheddar cheese, shredded
1/4 cup cream cheese, softened

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Combine elbow macaroni, water, milk, salt, garlic powder, onion powder, black pepper, and mustard powder in a large pot. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring frequently to prevent sticking.
Simmer until tender. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring often, for 10–12 minutes until the pasta is tender and most of the liquid has been absorbed. The mixture should be thick and creamy.
Melt the butter. Remove the pot from heat and stir in the butter until fully melted and incorporated.
Add the cheese. Add the sharp cheddar, mild cheddar, and cream cheese in two batches, stirring after each addition until smooth and creamy.
Rest and serve. Let the mac and cheese sit for 3–5 minutes to thicken before serving. It will continue to set as it cools.

Nutrition (per serving)

One-Pot Mac and Cheese — Stirring Through the Semester and Back Home Again