It's been three days since I made this recipe and have wanted to write a post about it. Problem is, I've been plagued by a case of writer's block. I've been reading so much about food these days, you'd think I'd be inspired and prolific. But the creative juices aren't really flowing much. If I remember correctly, I think the "cure" for writer's block is to just write in order to get back into a groove of sorts. So here I go. I'm just going to write, but I can't promise you'll read a post dedicated exclusively to macaroni and cheese. I'll start by writing about writing and why I love it so much. Here goes!
When I was in high school, my favorite class was English. I had a teacher named Sally Michel, and she was a brilliant English teacher. She was funny, intelligent, and had a great laugh. I went to college extremely well-prepared to study as an English major because of her. I remember meeting several people in college who didn't know how to write an essay and it baffled me. And then I was always thankful for Mrs. Michel. I never minded seeing my essays marked up with red ink when I got them back from my professors. It only made me want to write a better one the next time. Sometimes, those red marks weren't corrections or suggestions, either. Sometimes, my professors wrote things like "excellent point" or "well composed". I even used to write essays in French (oh, to be able to do that again!). French was my minor because next to Italian, French is the other language I am totally in love with. It was a bonus that I studied in Québec, where I was surrounded by French-speaking people on a daily basis and got to put my classroom learning into practice. The only thing I was never able to do was nail down that charming accent québécois. As the four years of college progressed, so did my aptitude, and I was able to take more advanced classes, one of which was a class where we learned to deconstruct French literature. Quizzes, tests, assignments and final exams were almost always in the form of essays. I wish I had saved them. I wish I had saved all my high school and college essays. It would be fun to re-read all of them.
The only kind of writing I never tried was creative writing. It just never appealed to me. I'm not good at creating stories for fictional compositions. Instead, I like to write about the things I experience first-hand, so blogging has become the perfect outlet for the kind of writing I enjoy the most. But it's a style of writing that is still fairly new territory for me. I've admitted this before: there is some seriously good food writing out there in the blogosphere and it's intimidating for me at times. But I'm not going to let it stop me. Like the red marks on my high school and college essays, I'm going to use the exemplary food writing I read as motivation to make my own writing better.
During the past year that I've been authoring Flavia's Flavors, I've discovered that most times, good ideas for writing come when I'm performing mindless or repetitive tasks, like blow drying my hair, cleaning or working out. I quickly learned to keep a notepad and pen in the bathroom vanity, the kitchen, the car and my purse so I can jot down ideas and phrases as they come to me. The idea to write a post about curing my case of writer's block came to me while taking a stroll through the mall when I was out with Peter tonight. I deleted the forced and badly composed paragraphs I typed out this morning and started over again tonight when we got home from a fun and relaxing Saturday out. And now look--I've managed to write five paragraphs about why I love writing in mere minutes!
Now that I appear to be cured of my writer's block, I suppose I should also write about this macaroni and cheese recipe that I made the other night for dinner. This is a food blog after all.
If you are familiar with Ree Drummond (a.k.a. The Pioneer Woman), you already know that her recipes are homestyle cooking at its best. Familiar ingredients, easy preparations and full-flavored food are the hallmarks of her cooking style. This is exactly what I love about American country-style cooking. There's no fuss, no gourmet-ing-it-up-art-on-a-plate nonsense. And what could be a more cozy and familiar dish than baked macaroni and cheese?
I'm no stranger to homemade baked pasta dishes, and I can personally attest that they are well worth the time spent making them. Italy's version of macaroni and cheese is called pasticcio, which colloquially, translates to "a mess". But in culinary terms, a pasticcio is pasta mixed with béchamel sauce, meat and vegetables, topped off with a sprinkling of Parmigiano Reggiano. My post on Pasta al Forno is a perfect example of a pasticcio, and it's what I grew up eating often. But I'm also a fan of the true-blue American style of macaroni and cheese, and Ree's recipe is a delicious example of this classic comfort food. It's everything macaroni and cheese should be: tender, tubular-shaped pasta (any kind will do) enrobed in a velvety cheese sauce, seasoned with the subtle tang of dry mustard and topped off with a generous sprinkling of cheddar cheese that melts into a delicate crust. If writing about this dish cured my writer's block, then eating it is sure to cure whatever ails you, too.
Macaroni and Cheese
Adapted from The Pioneer Woman Cooks
1 lb. box short, tubular-shaped pasta, such as elbows, penne, rigatoni or cavatappi
1 T. salt, to season the pasta cooking water
¼ cup (4 T.) unsalted butter
¼ cup all-purpose flour
2½ cups whole milk
2 tsp. dry mustard
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 pound cheddar cheese, grated½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 350°. Butter a large baking dish and set aside.
Bring the pasta water to a rolling boil, add 1 tablespoon of salt and the pasta. Cook the for about half the recommended cooking time listed on the box. You want the pasta to be underdone since it will finish cooking in the oven. Drain and set aside.
In a large pot, melt the butter and add in the flour. Cook for about 5 minutes over medium-low heat, whisking constantly. Adjust the heat to make sure the butter/flour mixture does not burn. Pour in the milk, and add in the dry mustard and whisk constantly until the mixture is smooth and has thickened, about 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to low.
Add ¼ cup of the béchamel sauce to the beaten egg and whisk constantly until well incorporated and smooth. Pour the egg mixture into the pot of béchamel sauce and whisk until well incorporated. Add in all but ½ cup of the shredded cheddar cheese and stir until it melts into the sauce. Season the sauce with the salt and pepper and taste to adjust the seasoning if necessary. Remove the sauce from the heat.
Pour the drained, cooked pasta into the warm cheese sauce and stir well to combine. Pour the pasta mixture into the buttered baking dish and top with the reserved ½ cup shredded cheddar cheese. Bake for 20-15 minutes, or until bubbling and golden on top.






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