I
love
home-made macaroni and cheese. In fact, I would like to curl up in a giant bowl of warm macaroni and cheese and take a nap. I would wake up and stretch and lick the cheesy goodness off of my arms. Oh, happiness.
With all of the love I feel towards this dish, you’d think I’d have it fairly often, but no. Reagan and Hayden declare that they hate home-made macaroni and cheese. As far as they are concerned, if it doesn’t come out of a blue box and have powdery cheese, it’s not the real thing.
Today, though I wanted comfort food. I am mentally limping towards the last day of school tomorrow. The cacophony of noise the kindergardeners have been making this week is sending me to my breaking point and food is cheap therapy. So today I slow-cooked a ham and made macaroni and cheese. Since it’s been a couple of years since I’ve made it, I thought I had a pretty good shot at slipping it by the kids. I re-named it “Cheesy Pasta Bake” and put it on their plates.
They sat down all excited about the ham and poked at the macaroni.
“What’s in it?”
“Cheese and pasta.”
“So is it macaroni and cheese?”
“Well, kind of.”
“What else does it have in it?”
“Milk.”
“Mac and cheese has milk in it.”
“Just eat!”
They nibbled a few bites and decided it was edible and actually finished their servings. Success? I guess so. I really wish that they wouldn’t make me feel like I was torturing them when in reality I’m making them creamy, yummy goodness.
I’m posting the recipe In The Fridge and then heading for the basement because the grim man on my television is telling me that a fleet of tornadoes is headed my way. Fun. I hope they’ve passed before the
With all of the love I feel towards this dish, you’d think I’d have it fairly often, but no. Reagan and Hayden declare that they hate home-made macaroni and cheese. As far as they are concerned, if it doesn’t come out of a blue box and have powdery cheese, it’s not the real thing.
Today, though I wanted comfort food. I am mentally limping towards the last day of school tomorrow. The cacophony of noise the kindergardeners have been making this week is sending me to my breaking point and food is cheap therapy. So today I slow-cooked a ham and made macaroni and cheese. Since it’s been a couple of years since I’ve made it, I thought I had a pretty good shot at slipping it by the kids. I re-named it “Cheesy Pasta Bake” and put it on their plates.
They sat down all excited about the ham and poked at the macaroni.
“What’s in it?”
“Cheese and pasta.”
“So is it macaroni and cheese?”
“Well, kind of.”
“What else does it have in it?”
“Milk.”
“Mac and cheese has milk in it.”
“Just eat!”
They nibbled a few bites and decided it was edible and actually finished their servings. Success? I guess so. I really wish that they wouldn’t make me feel like I was torturing them when in reality I’m making them creamy, yummy goodness.
I’m posting the recipe In The Fridge and then heading for the basement because the grim man on my television is telling me that a fleet of tornadoes is headed my way. Fun. I hope they’ve passed before the
Lost
finale later. I hate it when natural disasters interfere with my television viewing pleasure.
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