Cheesy!

One should never underestimate the power of cheese. Think about it. Milk is a drink that most of us give up by the time we are 12. But with the assistance of a process that is little more than high-falutin' rot, milk becomes about a million different culinary substances, the most basic of which cause grown humans to slump into their seats and call for momma.  Entire villages in France are defined by their local cheese. It's as if there was a town in Wisconsin called "lactobacilli." I firmly believe that one over-hyped 90's era diner in Los Angeles stays in business because it had the mensa-like idea to make little balls of mac-n-cheese and deep fry them.

Furthermore, cheese is a substance for all seasons. In spring, there are tangy little balls of fresh goats' cheese that you can roll around in herbs and pepper. In summer, take an oozy-good triple cream with you on your picnics and mush it into baguette with slices of perfect tomato. In fall a simple plate of honeycrisp apples and white cheddar is lunch, to me, about half the days of the week. A small round of indecently decadent truffle cheese makes a lovely Christmas gift.

But while cheese, on it's own, inspires devotion - you may have heard that the French describe the smell of some cheeses as "the feet of the gods?" - it is the application of heat to cheese that turns fully functioning humans into grabby little creatures unable to speak but through desirous moans and grunts. Melted cheese can take the possibility of something being, well, inedible off the table. Some say pizza is like sex for young men: no matter how bad it is, it's still pizza and therefore good. Mothers are regularly encouraged to hide otherwise unacceptable vegetables such as broccoli under layers of melted orange cheese in order to placate picky children. "Cheese pulls," - those colorfully lit, somewhat pornographic shots of separating slices of melty pizza/burrito/sandwich - are actually required by contract to take up a large part of any fast food advertisement because franchisees know that nothing sells crap food more than cheese.

I have no idea why melted cheese taps into our primordial desires more than, say, cream of wheat, but I do not deny it, and I certainly don't look down on it. There is, however, a lot of opportunity to sexy up those old childhood stand-bys. With that in mind, I will now share with you my favorite recipe for macaroni and cheese:

Bay Leaf and White Cheddar Mac n' Cheese

A few preliminary notes: this recipe calls for making a "roux". Do not be intimidated. A roux is only bubbly butter and flour with some milk in it. Also, this recipe can be changed to accommodate any cheese/herb combination you desire. As long as the cheese melts and the herb is fresh, you are good to go. Lastly, feel free to freeze this recipe in it's pre-bake form for as much as a month, well wrapped. Some cold night you will be very happy to know that you have delicious mac and cheese waiting for you to pop in the oven.

1 lb. small pasta (anything with good nooks)

3/4 - 1 1/2 lb.s sharp white cheddar cheese, grated*

3 tb. butter

2 tb. flour

2 fresh bay leaves or 1 dried

a few sprigs thyme

3-4 cups whole milk

Sea salt

Pepper

1/8 tsp. nutmeg

A few slices whole wheat bread, crusts removed.

Take out the bread and set it on the counter to dry. Cook the pasta in salted water for 1-2 minutes less than called for on the package.

Put the milk, herbs, nutmeg and a little pepper into a saucepan and heat until steaming, and a few bubbles have gathered at the edges. Remove from the heat and let steep. In a separate saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat, and sprinkle over with the flour (don't worry about lumps, you'll stir them out). Cook the roux, stirring often, until just starting to turn gold (5 minutes or so). While stirring, add the milk slowly. Add only as much milk as gives you the saucy consistency you are looking for. Reserve the rest in case the sauce thickens up on you after you add the cheese. Speaking of which, add most of the cheese and stir into the sauce. Taste the sauce. It probably needs a little salt and maybe a little more pepper. Does it have enough cheese? You can add more. 

Preheat the oven to 350. Mix the pasta with the cheese sauce, adding the pasta to the sauce and stopping when the pasta/sauce ratio pleases you. Pour into a baking dish. Pulse the bread in a food processor to make crumbs (or just go at it with a knife). Sprinkle the bread crumbs and any and all remaining cheese over the dish. Cover with foil and bake for 20 minutes, remove foil and bake for 10 minutes more, or until the bread crumbs are golden and toasted. Serve with a simple butter lettuce salad and be happy. You can also divide the pasta into 1 or 2 person serving sizes, and bake only what you desire, saving the rest for a rainy day.

*You could use a lot more cheese in this, or a little less. As always, taste as you go, and buy more cheese than you need. No one ever minded having a little cheddar around the house.