How do I love macaroni and cheese? Let me count the wheys.
Most people don’t understand my love for macaroni and cheese. It’s a comfort food. The first thing my mother taught me how to cook was mac and cheese. Eating mac and cheese reminds me of Saturday nights with Katie, the babysitter and of the few snow days we had while growing up in Cleveland, Ohio.
In my family, mac and cheese is a staple of any gathering larger or more important than Sunday night dinner (a phenomenon shortly summed up as my mother, her sisters, all of the children, spouses and my grandmother crowding around my kitchen table to tease each other and catch up on our week). Sunday night dinner was usually about 12 people, so any time there were more of us (not during the Jewish holiday of Passover) you could count on the mac and cheese to make an appearance.
This article appears in Aug 5-11, 2010.