The Catskill Chronicle

By Jude Waterston

When I was growing up, my family wasn’t big on ham. Pork was another story. But a baked ham, well, all I can think is that my mother must have, for some reason, felt obligated to produce one yearly. All I recall about the ham, oddly enough, was its presence in another guise the following evening.

We all knew what was coming. The main course for dinner “the day after” was a favorite. It was my mother’s macaroni and cheese. In the nineteen sixties, that meant a dish composed of a combination of convenience products popular at the time.

While the Ronzoni elbow macaroni boiled away in a large pot of salted water, my mother worked on the sauce. The gelled contents of a can of Campbell’s tomato soup plopped into a saucepan. The empty can was then filled half-way with whole milk, which was poured into the pot. The next addition was cubed Velveeta, a processed cheese if ever there was one. A “cheese” that need not be refrigerated and probably doesn’t have an expiration date, I may add. Like a cockroach, it would, most likely, survive a nuclear holocaust.

The Velveeta melted admirably into the soup and milk mixture, creating a perfectly creamy, abnormally bright orange-colored sauce into which my mother stirred the cooked elbows. She never baked her macaroni and cheese; we ate it right away, piping hot and, studded with that dreaded “day-after” ham. Did she really think we wouldn’t notice the cubed meat amidst the pasta? No, she was crafty, and knew that we so adored her mac and cheese that we would take the good with the bad.

As time passed, less adulterated versions of mac and cheese were introduced to me. Those made with American cheese were disregarded. Cheddar cheese, whether tinted orange (with the help of South American achiote seeds, more commonly known as annatto) or in its natural off-white state, was melted into béchamel sauce, poured into a casserole dish and baked until crisp and golden on top. My mom’s creation disappeared from memory as I discovered the real thing. In addition, I eventually became disdainful of tiny, simplistic comma-shaped elbow macaroni. Such an inconsequential dried pasta offering.

As I began to experiment with various cheeses, so too did I seek out assorted pastas that I found to have a more substantial mouth-feel and texture. Cavatappi, which resembles an elbow macaroni grown in size and thickness, has become a favorite. Additionally, cavatappi is ridged, further helping the sauce to cling to its surface. Medium or large shells (not to be confused with jumbo shells which are used for stuffing with ricotta cheese and baked in tomato sauce) are another great choice. The sauce collects in the shell’s cup, a true plus. And recently my brother found a wonderful squat corkscrew-shaped pasta in Philadelphia, where he lives, and was nice enough to procure a few boxes of trattole for me. I have even made an Italian version of mac and cheese using wide egg noodles. Noodles love a clingy sauce, and the mixture of fontina and Parmgiano-Reggiano cheeses laced with thin ribbons of prosciutto di Parma makes for one fine mac and cheese. Another take on Italian mac and cheese I came up with calls for four cheeses and crispy cubes or strips of pancetta  (unsmoked Italian bacon). Yes, it’s decadent, but a crisp salad dressed with extra-virgin olive oil and Champagne (or red wine) vinegar served alongside helps cut the richness. Somewhat.

I offer you here a few favorite recipes, but feel free to explore other cheese combinations and pasta shapes. I’ve made mac and cheese with that wonderfully tangy Spanish sheep’s milk cheese, Manchego, and experimented with the likes of spirals, fusilli, and rigatoni pasta-wise.

Try adding pancetta to a traditional mac and cheese for a crispy, crunchy, porky flavor much superior to stodgy old baked ham. Some heathens even top their casseroles with toasted bread crumbs for a crunchy topping. Just promise me you’ll skip the elbows in place of a bolder pasta shape. Be bold! You’ll never look back.

Italian Macaroni and Cheese

Serves 6 – 8

3 tablespoons butter, softened

12 ounces wide egg noodles

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup half & half

2 ½ cups whole milk

1 egg

½ teaspoon salt, plus more for pasta water

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

2 cups (packed) grated Fontina cheese

¾ cup (packed) finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

¾ cup (4 ounces) Prosciutto di Parma, sliced into strips

¼ cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Using one tablespoon of the softened butter, grease a lasagna pan or glass baking dish that is approximately 13 x 9 x 3” in size. Set aside. Cook the noodles in a large pot of boiling salted water until still firm to the bite, stirring frequently, about 5 minutes. Drain well and place in a big bowl. Add the other 2 tablespoons of softened butter and stir to melt. Set aside. In a very large bowl, whisk together the cream, milk, half & half, flour, egg, salt, and pepper. Stir in half each of the Fontina, Parmesan, and mozzarella. Combine the remainder of the three cheeses in a small bowl. Add the prosciutto and the parsley to the dairy mixture. Finally, add the noodles and stir well to combine. Mixture will be very wet. Transfer the noodle mixture to the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle the top with the remaining cheese mixture. Bake until the sauce bubbles and the cheese melts and begins to brown on top, 20 minutes. Transfer to the broiler and cook for 3 minutes, until top is well browned, crisp, and crusty. Let stand about 8 minutes before serving.

Mac and Cheese

Serves 4 – 6

3/4 pound dried cavatappi

2 ½ cups grated sharp cheddar cheese

½ cup finely grated parmesan cheese, preferably Parmigiano-Reggiano

3 cups (1 ½ pints) half & half

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

3 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon tomato paste

Salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Cook cavatappi according to instructions on package, or for about 8 – 9 minutes in salted boiling water, until al dente. Drain well. Meanwhile, combine grated cheeses in a bowl and toss to combine. In a saucepan large enough to hold the cooked pasta, melt the butter over low heat. Add the flour and stir continuously with a whisk or wooden spoon for 2 minutes until smooth. Gradually add the half & half and raise the heat to high. Whisk in the tomato paste and cook, stirring, until the mixture thickens, about 4 – 5 minutes. Remove from heat and whisk in all but ½ cup of the cheese mixture. Season with salt and pepper. Add the cooked cavatappi to the saucepan and stir well. Pour the mixture into a shallow oven-proof baking dish and top evenly with the remaining ½ cup of grated cheese. Bake for 25 – 30 minutes, until bubbly. Place under the broiler for 1 – 2 minutes, until top is crisped and golden. Serve immediately.

Italian Four Cheese Pasta with Pancetta

Serves 4

Parmigiano-Reggiano, Fontina, Tallegio, and mozzarella cheeses, plus crispy Italian bacon, combined with wide egg noodles make for an elevated mac and cheese fit for a special occasion. The top gets a golden crust which gives way to a rich, creamy interior. You might find it easier to work with the fontina and tallegio cheeses, which are on the soft side, if you put them in the freezer for about a half an hour before grating or cubing them.

¼ pound (4 ounces) Italian pancetta, sliced into matchsticks or roughly chopped

1 teaspoon olive oil

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

8 ounces wide egg noodles

½ cup heavy cream

½ cup half & half

1 ¾ cups whole milk

1 egg

½ teaspoon salt, plus more for pasta water

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

¾ cups (packed) grated fontina cheese

¾ cups (packed) cubed tallegio cheese

½ cup (packed) cubed or grated mozzarella

½ cup (packed) grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

¼ cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Heat the teaspoon of olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the pancetta and lower the heat slightly. Cook the pancetta, stirring occasionally, until crisp, about 6 – 8 minutes. With a slotted spoon, lift pancetta from pan and drain on paper towels. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Using one tablespoon of the softened butter, grease a lasagna pan or glass baking dish that is approximately 13 x 9 x 3” in size. Set aside. Cook the noodles, stirring frequently, in a large pot of boiling salted water until still firm to the bite, about 6 minutes. Drain well and place in a big bowl. Add the other tablespoon of butter and stir to melt. Set aside. In a very large bowl, whisk together the cream, milk, half & half, flour, egg, salt, and pepper. Stir in ¾’s of each of the cheeses, reserving a ¼ of each and combining them in a bowl. Add the pancetta and parsley to the dairy mixture. Finally, add the noodles and stir well to combine. Mixture will be very wet. Transfer the noodle mixture to the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle the remainder of the cheeses evenly over the top and bake until the sauce bubbles and the cheese melts and begins to brown on top, 20 minutes. Transfer to the broiler and cook for 3 – 4 minutes, until top is well browned, crisp, and crusty. Let stand about 5 minutes before serving.