Mac Attack

"There is something about cold weather that leads to reflective searchings back through memory and time, to dishes sprung from the farthest reaches of childhood, to nursery foods, odd, peculiar little dishes in which one crumbled crackers in warm milk or probed bread fingers into a soft-boiled egg."

Judith Olney

It's -7 degrees in Highlands Ranch this morning, a downright balmy condition compared to DIA. The important airport hub for millions of travelers awoke to -17 today and made headlines everywhere. Poor DIA. The airport is a fabulous arrangement of modern efficiency, compelling architecture, and retail oddities. But, it only makes the news when it's crippled by feet, not inches, of snow. And subsequently strands trillions of undeserving humans against their collective wills. Or, when a new record for low temperature is set.

The banana bread recipe on Saturday triggered responses from people in a lot of different places. Not surprising. First, it's bread. Staff of life stuff. "Nothin' says lovin' like something from the oven." Remember that?! It's from the introduction of the Pillsbury "Poppin' Fresh" Doughboy in a 1965 TV commercial. Dude! I can't believe you're 43 already! It doesn't matter as much that something homemade is coming out of that oven than that anything baked from the middle of scratch is coming out - HOT - filling the kitchen with the aroma of warm, sugary goodness. A vehicle for butter.
Second, it's banana bread. Every person who ever worked in an office has sighed in relief upon walking into the conference room for the dreaded Monday morning staff meeting, to find a plate of the magical loaf waiting for them. Someone made it over the weekend, and nobody ate it; or, they made it for the meeting on purpose; or, they stopped somewhere during the commute and bought it.

Regardless of how it got there, you know that you will make it to lunch now that you'll have unexpected banana bread.

Third, it's cold outside. I know, I know. It's not cold everywhere. But, it's mostly cold, mostly everywhere. So, just the idea of something being baked in an oven - doesn't even matter what it is - is enough to bring the soul to the surface.

Other than baked bread, the other all-American thing that comes out of ovens more this time of year than any other time is casseroles. I'm married to a former preacher's kid who was literally ruined on casseroles because of his early childhood experiences with church basement pot lucks, ham and overly-cooked green bean dinners with casseroles of "starch," and mystery concoctions in 13 x 9" pans. Brought to him by well-meaning women who may have just opened the pantry and thrown unrelated cans of things together into a dish because it was their duty.

So, no casseroles for him. Pity. Doesn't he know that the word "casserole" is actually from the French, for "a saucepan?" Or, that it is also used to describe any food that is both baked and served in the same dish??

Quelle Horror!

Let's face it. A poorly trained cook, or one that just can't learn, can ruin just about anything for just about anybody, any time. It's not the casserole's fault. Like anything else in the culinary world, the "thing" is only as good as the "maker."

Or, in the case of things that require precise measurement or technique to really work, it often comes down to the available tools in the kitchen. AND, a great recipe.

While the banana bread was taking its sweet time in the oven on Saturday morning, I turned on the TV. I considered the Football Championship Subdivision semifinal (formerly 1-AA) between Northern Iowa and Richmond. I flipped through the cable guide and landed on PBS, which schedules cooking shows on the weekend. The "barbequed chicken" episode of Cook's Country TV was sitting in my timeslot. What luck! The test item for that show just happened to be a thoroughly vetted, mouth-watering pan of macaroni and cheese.

I love Cook's Illustrated and have every annual compendium of the no-advertising magazine dating back to 1992. They test the living daylights out of every food-related subject you can imagine and publish the "best-best" of the best results. After all that work, who can argue?

Back to mac and cheese. It should be one of the most cherished dishes of our American heritage.

But, has any dish been more maligned, mistreated, or underestimated than macaroni and cheese? I have visions of millions of American children who believe that macaroni and cheese comes from the inside of a blue box. Just add water. Or, add water to a cup and nuke it. That's fine for Cup-O-Noodles. But, this is the foundation of our country we're talking about here.

I'm not suggesting that my own children received a complex bowl of homemade macaroni and cheese every time they were in the mood for it either. I've used boxes of Annie's Homegrown without guilt or remorse and would do it again. I've microwaved little black trays of Stouffer's and pretended it was an entire meal. I'll probably do that again. Soon. There's nothing truly wrong with the higher-quality renditions of stove-top or microwaved macaroni. It's just that it has so much more potential when it's finished in the oven.

For a dish so basic, macaroni and cheese is fraught with all sorts of problems. Not the least of which is the nasty appearance, mouth feel and taste of curdled cheese. Blech!!#$%*!

If you don't have a lot of people to help you eat it, even the half of most recipes will sit in your refrigerator, deteriorating by the second, guilting you into your sixth or seventh lunch of the stuff. And, by the time you're of a certain age, you may have been subjected to, or subjected yourself to, so much of the powdered, packaged, reconstituted variety, that you don't actually remember how macaroni and cheese is supposed to taste, look, smell, etc.

Have no fear, When Pigs Fly is here.

I'm sharing the Cook's Country TV recommendation for mac and cheese. Carefully tested, retested, and re-retested, to bring you the best macaroni and cheese you will ever eat in your lifetime.

I think. I haven't actually made it yet. But, I'm thinking about. Oh yes, I'm thinking about it. I could just smell it through the screen, you know? I could see it. The way the creamy cheese sauce clung to the elbow pasta. How the bread-crumb topping browned perfectly and uniformly. How the crunch of the topping would be the perfect partner to the soft, velvety macaroni.

Let's just do it. Let's make real macaroni and cheese.

If you don't know of any other reason to do it, then just do it for your country.

Best Potluck Macaroni and Cheese

Use block American cheese from the deli counter—prewrapped slices of American cheese will result in a drier mac and cheese.
Serves 8 to 10.

Ingredients
3–4 slices hearty white sandwich bread , torn into large pieces
8 tablespoons unsalted butter , 4 tablespoons melted
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Salt
1 pound elbow macaroni
5 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 (12-ounce) cans evaporated milk
2 teaspoons hot sauce
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon dry mustard
2 cups shredded extra-sharp cheddar cheese
1 1/4 cups shredded American cheese , (about 5 ounces)
3/4 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese

Instructions
1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Pulse bread, melted butter, and Parmesan in food processor until ground to coarse crumb. Transfer to bowl.

2. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in large pot. Add 1 tablespoon salt and macaroni to boiling water and cook until al dente, about 6 minutes. Reserve 1/2 cup macaroni cooking water, then drain and rinse macaroni in colander under cold running water. Set aside.

3. Melt remaining 4 tablespoons butter in now-empty pot over medium-high heat until foaming. Stir in flour and cook, stirring constantly, until mixture turns light brown, about 1 minute. Slowly whisk in evaporated milk, hot sauce, nutmeg, mustard, and 2 teaspoons salt and cook until mixture begins to simmer and is slightly thickened, about 4 minutes. Off heat, whisk in cheeses and 1/2 cup reserved pasta water until cheese melts. Stir in macaroni until completely coated.

4. Transfer mixture to 13 by 9-inch baking dish and top with bread crumb mixture. Bake until cheese is bubbling around edges and top is golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Let sit for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.

Make Ahead: The macaroni and cheese can be made in advance through step 3; since the pasta continues to absorb moisture, adjustments must be made to avoid a dry filling. To do so, increase amount of reserved pasta cooking water to 1 cup. Pour filling into 13 by 9-inch baking dish, lay plastic wrap directly on surface of pasta, and refrigerate for up to 1 day. The bread crumb mixture may be refrigerated in airtight container up to 2 days. When ready to bake, remove plastic wrap, cover macaroni mixture with foil, and bake for 30 minutes. Uncover, sprinkle bread crumbs over top, and bake until topping is golden brown, about 20 minutes longer.