Mac and cheese

There were a lot of crappy foods in my childhood meal rotations — cereals with way too much sugar, cheap meats, odd sandwich combinations and frozen dinners — but I never ate macaroni and cheese until I was in my 40s. To this day, I have only eaten mac and cheese a few times.

Robert St. John

Robert St. John

It’s not because I am a food snob or anything, far from it. I grew up eating a lot of mediocre foodstuffs. In the 1960s, my brother and I ate beanie weenies almost every Sunday night while watching Bonanza or Ed Sullivan. We also ate canned, whop-them-on-the-counter sweet rolls many, many mornings. To this day, those canned sweet rolls are guilty pleasures for both of us.

Our mother used to make mayonnaise and lettuce sandwiches. That’s it, just mayonnaise, lettuce, white bread and maybe salt and pepper. I don’t know the origin of the mayonnaise and lettuce sandwich, but we were fed them on occasion. I haven’t eaten a mayonnaise and lettuce sandwich in more than 50 years. I don’t miss them at all. I can’t think of anything blander than spreading white bread with mayo and finishing it with the blandest of bland lettuce — iceberg. I can also remember eating white-bread sandwiches spread with butter and sugar. It’s not that we didn’t have meat in the house. I think we did, but that was just what we were fed on occasion. When we weren’t eating those sandwiches, I was eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

There’s certainly nothing wrong with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I ate them all of the time. With so much peanut butter and jelly in the house, I don’t know why anyone would ever opt for mayo and lettuce or butter and sugar. I still eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The late, great New Orleans restaurant matron Ella Brennan once said, “You know why kids love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Because peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good.”

It seems that TV dinners were also a big part of our childhood, too. I don’t know what TV dinners are like these days, but in the 1960s they were awful. The potatoes almost had no substance, as if they were made with air — bad air. The peas and carrot were hard, bland and neon-colored. The meats were either soggy fried chicken or overly tough Salisbury steak. There was always a dessert in there, too, though it always smelled and tasted like the chicken or beef.

We ate Hamburger Helper and all manner of crummy food, but we never ate mac and cheese. I don’t know why. All of my friends ate it, but my mother never bought it. Maybe mac and cheese was an item in which she chose to plant her flag and take her stand.

I eat a lot of pasta these days. I own an Italian restaurant and it comes with the territory. Before the year is out, I will have spent two months in Italy. Pasta is almost a required foodstuff over there. Though, whether through the restaurant or the trips to Italy, mac and cheese won’t be on the agenda.

Save the emails. I get it. You love mac and cheese. I’m not saying mac and cheese is bad, or that I am above eating mac and cheese. Not at all. Far from it. I’m not above eating anything. If you know me, you know that. I’m just saying we never ate mac and cheese.

We do serve upgraded versions of mac and cheese at a couple of our restaurants — one with lobster and one with crawfish. Those are wildly popular dishes at our restaurants. We also serve several upscale versions of mac and cheese when we cater events. Mac and cheese are as American as, well, as mac and cheese.

Our restaurant The Midtowner is a breakfast and lunch-only spot. Except on Friday and Saturday nights when we turn it into a catfish house and serve thin-fried catfish, all of the typical fixin’s and family-style passed vegetables such as fried okra, baked beans and collard greens. On Saturday nights, we add mac and cheese to the passed-vegetable mix. People love it.

One of the biggest culinary mistakes I ever made was with mac and cheese. My second book was a book that included Southern staples and Deep South comfort food. I needed a good homemade mac and cheese recipe, but mac and cheese were something — at that time — I had never eaten. I turned that recipe development over to one of my chefs. She came up with a very good recipe. The problem came when my secretary was transcribing the recipe. She listed “condensed” milk in the recipe instead of “evaporated” milk. That’s right, condensed milk, as in sweetened condensed milk. Folks, if you want truly awful mac and cheese, make it with sweetened condensed milk. Unfortunately, no on caught the mistake and it made it into the first printing of the book.

I had corrected it by the second printing, but there were still 10,000 books out there that used sweetened condensed milk in the cheese sauce. People were furious. I received several calls and emails and I deserved every one of them.

So, what did we learn here today, kids? There’s nothing you can do to a mayonnaise and lettuce sandwich to make it legit. Sugar and butter on a sandwich are no way to treat two pieces of bread. Never serve kids TV dinners unless they’ve done something horribly wrong and you’re punishing them. You’re typically better off eating the TV instead of the TV dinner. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches rock. And never — I repeat, never — use sweetened condensed milk in your mac and cheese.

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