As I began reading this Thanksgiving issue of Bon Appétit as its new editor-in-chief, my first thought was that the only side dish that really matters to me is the mac and cheese.
It’s the ultimate celebration food, warm and comforting, something that exemplifies the communal joy of the holidays. At its most delicious, a dish like mac and cheese can become the source of friends’ taste memories and the foundation of family lore. (Who doesn’t want to be the cousin who gets a round of applause when they arrive carrying extra trays?)
To me, mac and cheese is serious business. Perfecting a recipe requires years of kitchen observation, decades of practice, and high levels of skill—plus a security clearance from aunts and grannies to guarantee its worthiness to grace the holiday buffet. I make a version using the
béchamel method and cavatappi, with a subtly crisp Parmesan and panko topping. But I don’t think it lives up to the standard established by my late Aunt Wanda. Her mac and cheese was irresistible, oozy baked goodness, with supple elbows or shells and the perfect balance of three cheeses, butter, cream, garlic, and paprika that bubbled into just- browned edges. Gravy from the turkey and smoky mustard greens only seemed to make it better.
I’ve tried to make mac and cheese like my aunt so many times. I’ve tempered eggs in milk, adjusted the seasonings, let it rest in the fridge, hoping it would taste like hers. But it isn’t the same. When I finally perfect it, perhaps we’ll run the recipe alongside all the other great ones you can find here at Bon Appétit and Epicurious.
Until then I’m more than happy being the aunt who gets showered with praise for bringing the lemon meringue, cranberry curd, and sweet potato pies to big family gatherings and parties. I’m also beyond excited to be at this party and thrilled to share this holiday season with you.