One of my earliest food memories — and earliest memories in general — is sitting at the dining room table in my Nana’s apartment, barely able to see over the table, where a jaw-dropping amount of food is spread out in front of me. I couldn’t have been older than five.
My parents, my Nana and other relatives are boisterous, chatting and laughing while serving up heaping amounts of the two side-by-side dishes that make up the piece de resistance: my Nana’s macaroni and cheese, and alongside, the same elbow noodles, but instead draped in her tomato sauce. Both dishes were baked just slightly, until the edges were barely crisped but the middle remained soft and rich.
It was a formative moment in my grasp of food and cooking at large, as well as my understanding of family, as each person dove right into their food, eating both variations with vigor. There was also meatloaf on the table, which has always been the de facto pairing with my Nana’s (and my mom’s) traditional macaroni and cheese, which we’ve eaten a few times per year in the proceeding 30 years. It’s reliable, dependable comfort food in its purest essence. In my household, "macaroni and meatloaf" are inextricable, akin to "peanut butter and jelly" or other immutable pairings. You just don't mess with that combination.
Since culinary school or so, though, I’ve experimented with these cherished recipes. From the the choice of macaroni to changes to the bechamel; from switching up the the cheeses to adding breadcrumbs; from broiling until the top is nearly burnt to adding varying mix-ins or different ideas. The changes have run the gamut, but truthfully, they never seemed to add much.
As far as the meatloaf, I’ve tried everything and anything, from swapping out different ground poultries or vegan soy “meats”, to trying different glazes, to throwing apple cider vinegar and brown sugar into the meat mixture (I advise that you do not do that).
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So, as with many things, I’ve realized that there really is no need to mess with perfection.
So here’s my Nana’s original no-frills recipe, without any fuss, any tweaks or anything to gild the lily. She knew what she was doing and I thank her for setting the standard for all macaroni and cheeses for me. Serve with the meatloaf of your choosing, obviously - or, like she did back in the early 90s as I sat at her table, cook up a pot of tomato or marinara and some extra elbows and offer up a secondary macaroni dish for your friends and family. No matter how you approach it, there's no questioning how wholly rich, comforting and cozy this dish is.
I’m sure that everyone will love it as much as we all did — and still do.
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Ingredients
1 16-ounce box elbow macaroni
2 tablespoons corn starch
2 tablespoons margarine
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
3 cups milk, ideally at room temperature
1 teaspoon ground dry mustard
12 ounces cheddar, shredded
Directions
- Preheat oven to 375 degrees fahrenheit.
- Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Salt well and then cook elbows according to package directions, draining just short of the intended time, slightly shy of al dente (you don't want to overcook the pasta since it'll soften further when it's baked).
- In a large pan over medium-low heat, melt margarine. Add cornstarch, salt and pepper and stir or whisk until well combined. After 2 or 3 minutes, the mixture should look a bit sandy and start to toast slightly.
- Gradually whisk in the milk, slowly and surely, stopping here and there but continually whisking or stirring, until all of the milk has been added. Raise the heat to medium, whisking sporadically, until the sauce has thickened.
- When the sauce coats the back of a spoon, you're ready to add the cheese.
- Season again with ground mustard, salt and pepper.
- Don't add all the cheese at once, stirring or whisking in between additions until it's fully melted.
- Mix the elbows and the sauce together well and then add to a baking dish. If you'd like, top with some extra shredded cheddar and seasoned breadcrumbs.
- Bake for about 30 minutes or until the edges are slightly browning and the center is slightly bubbling. You can also broil for the last 3 to 5 minutes or so if you like a crisp crust (like me), but be mindful not to burn it.
- Remove from oven and let cool for 5 minutes before serving.
- Serve with meatloaf.
Cook's Notes
-I kept the original recipe intact, but you can feel free to replace the cornstarch with all-purpose flour or some gluten-free flour and unsalted butter instead of margarine.
-Elbows are unbeatable, but I've had an obsession with using cavatappi in my macaroni and cheese in recent years. Up to you!
-I like adding a touch of freshly-ground nutmeg to any Bechamel (courtesy of a Rachael Ray tip I remember from a "30 Minute Meals" episode I saw years and years ago).
-I sometimes throw in parmesan or gruyere or fontina, but really, cheddar alone truly is top tier
-My Nana and I both liked topping our macaroni and cheese with breadcrumbs and extra cheddar before baking or broiling to ensure a delicious crust. My mother inexplicably never did that. Your mileage may vary (but my Nana's iteration is certainly the superior option).
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