….five years in the making.
Apparently, last week marked five years since the beginning of the “official” COVID shutdown in the United States. I know this not from watching the news, but from the 2020 photo flashbacks that popped up on my phone and the annual appearance of a calendar entry announcing, “all boys home.” It was listed between the HVAC appointment reminder and March birthdays, evidence that once upon a time I was cooped up inside for months with three big men and a cat.
I used to have this habit of memorializing life events like they were anniversaries so I’d remember (compare) my experiences (growth) from year to year. If someone were to ask “what were you doing when…” I had my answer down to the exact date and time. My little calendar fetish proved quite beneficial as the pandemic wore on and the passage of time slowly began to dilute. What started off as simple keepsake notations soon became real anchors, probably in more ways than one and not all of them productive. So last week when I found myself staring at the iPhone mementos of my life screeching to a halt, I dared to seek out more context and perhaps get some verification that any of it had happened at all:
Melissa Kirsch, the New York Times, March 15, 2025
Where were you in March of 2020? When did you realize Covid was a thing that was going to disrupt life as you knew it? I was hiking in Joshua Tree, spending my days delirious at the natural beauty of the desert, unsure if I should return to New York. Each time I refreshed The Times’s coverage, it seemed more and more evident that going home would mean staying indoors for the foreseeable future.
Wait, where was I in March of 2020? Well, let me see, Melissa. You may have been hiking in Joshua Tree, but I was freezing on the side of the road in the Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge trying to catch a glimpse of the Sand Hill Crane migration. Louise of the West and I were on a road trip from Denver to Taos that included stops for crane-spotting, hot mineral springs-dipping, and Crestone stupa-hopping. Given all that communing with nature and spiritual expansion, it was much like an Australian walkabout, only in a Honda Pilot…with shopping…and margaritas.
During my week out West, reporting on the virus began to escalate until it became clear that drastic steps were coming. According to said calendar, my flight home to Atlanta was on March 7th, one week prior to that arbitrary pandemic start date. The plane was packed with happy, unassuming travelers except for a lone passenger wearing a mask – the sight was more than a little ominous. As we taxied toward the runway I felt like I was on the last flight out of Colorado, straight from the archives of wartime embassy evacuations. I looked out the window to bid the Rockies farewell, half expecting to see a mushroom cloud. And just like that I was home.
My adventure cooking began slowly that spring, although the blog didn’t take shape until over a year later. Those early months are documented by poorly lit photos and bite-sized snippets of explanation, nowhere near the chatty overkill you are reading today. At the time our house needed some excitement and pizazz, which explains all the international or obscure meals that showed up on my social media feeds. But in between those exotic moments was a deep desire for comfort food – a meatloaf, some buttery mashed potatoes, a roast chicken, and of course, macaroni & cheese. It’s crazy that I didn’t really bother to photograph those meals, especially given how healing they were in the moment.
While I take pride in my culinary trip around the world, the often-ignored workhorse of the kitchen is a warm taste of home. I don’t mean my childhood home – Mother and Daddy rarely dabbled in Americana like macaroni and cheese. That was left to my Lower School chef, the perfectly-named Mrs. Ruby Bacon who absolutely understood the assignment. She served a hearty, eggy ice cream scoop of macaroni & cheese that could reduce a sloppy Joe to a sidekick. Mrs. Bacon’s recipe was always my gold standard, but for years I insisted I knew better. Me being me, I used a recipe from that world-renowned culinary publication, The Economist, for nearly 20 years:
The word recipe gives it far too much credit – it was a damn flowchart and I thought I was so clever and intellectual. But in 2020, I suddenly had more much time to play in the kitchen, so I began a side quest to reconstruct Mrs. Bacon’s masterpiece. It was trial and error for months as Sous Chef, Daddy, and I all swapped recipes ideas such as to roux or not to roux and sour cream v. cream cheese. The internet has is no shortage of “THE BEST MAC AND CHEESE RECIPE EVER” and most of them were moderately gross. I know…how could mac & cheese be gross?
I believe the mac genre can be divided into two schools of thought: creamy stovetop (old me) and textural baked (new me). Both are acceptable versions of mac & cheese but regardless of your preference, somebody will always try to sneak in extras like pimentos or lobster. That’s fine, assuming you begin with a killer recipe that can stand on its own.
What I learned during my quest boils down to some simple guidelines. The most textural baked mac is reliant on eggs, which is purely a matter of taste…good taste. The custardy element of just a few eggs can balance out even the most overdone, gooey cheese base and provide a structural respite from all of that gluten. I also insist that you shred your own cheese – even store brand blocks are better than anything pre-shredded and dusted with anti-caking cellulose. As for a bread crumb topping, I waiver depending on my mood and audience; it is entirely optional and I did not include it in my recipe below. You are on your own for that…and the lobster.
I chose the song Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell to set the tone of this blog for complicated reasons (plus I’ve already used Ruby Soho). The obvious message notwithstanding, by 2019 I honesty thought I’d lived those lyrics and was already a walking, talking acolyte of the song. Oh, how very wrong I was. During the pandemic proper, as well as the subsequent 2-3 years, I think I evolved many times over.
Colorado roadtrips and macaroni & cheese will forever hold court with my pandemic memories. Maybe the expanse of the Rocky Mountains steeled me for the pandemic’s twin evils, stress and isolation. Maybe the boron and arsenic in the hot springs cleansed my guilt-ridden mom persona. Maybe I abandoned my belief in shapeless mac & cheese at the Yeshe Rangsal Stupa. And just maybe I drew fresh antics and candid awareness from the flight of those elusive cranes, a once in a lifetime experience. Only it wasn’t just once – I’ll relive it every year. There are the photos of course, but those little entries in my calendar will faithfully pop up every year. I have a chronicle of where I’ve been, but also what I’ve left behind. Both sides now, until the next metamorphosis.
Pandemic Mac and Cheese
Ingredients
- 1 tbsp butter
- 1 lb uncooked short pasta of your choice
- 4 quarts chicken broth or water seasoned with chicken bouillon
- 8 oz sharp white cheddar cheese
- 8 oz mild orange cheddar cheese
- 8 oz part-skim mozzarella cheese
- 8 oz colby-jack cheese
- 4 oz cream cheese, softened
- 2 cups half and half
- ½ tsp smoked paprika
- 1 tsp garlic powder
- 1 tsp onion powder
- ½ tsp mustard powder
- ½ tsp Kosher salt
- black pepper to taste
- At least 3 large eggs
Method
Preheat oven to 350° and butter a deep (9” X 13”) casserole dish.
Bring chicken stock to a boil, add pasta, and cook until just under al dente, about 9 minutes. Drain and set aside to cool.
Shred your block cheeses and toss to combine.
Blend together about 2/3 of your shredded cheese stash, the half and half, and the cream cheese.
Add smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, mustard powder, and kosher salt & pepper to taste. Mix well to ensure the seasonings are distributed evenly.
Add the cooled pasta. Beat the eggs and fold into the cheese pasta mixture.
Pour into the buttered casserole dish and top with remaining 1/3 of shredded cheese.
Bake 35 minutes or until super bubbly and lightly browned.
Allow to set and cool for 5-10 minutes and serve with the superiority of knowing eggs belong in macaroni and cheese.
Serves many.
Foodishness 