When it comes to macaroni and cheese, it's time to think outside the box.
You know the box we mean. It's bright, shiny blue. And the macaroni and cheese that comes out of it is bright, shiny orange.
The boxed stuff is fine for kids. It's fast and cheap, and they can't tell the difference. But for adults, it's time to do something better. It's time for homemade macaroni and cheese.
Making macaroni and cheese at home is nothing new _ Italians have been doing it since at least the early 1300s, when a recipe for it was included in one of the first medieval cookbooks, "Liber de Coquina."
But pairing it with other inventive ingredients _ that's what's new. That's thinking outside the box.
I decided to make several different toppings to go with macaroni and cheese, but first I had a conundrum: How should I make the macaroni and cheese?
There is the American version, which begins by making a roux _ cooking flour and butter together, and using it to thicken and flavor milk. And then there is the Italian version, which begins by soaking shredded cheese in milk until it starts to break down.
The American version is a bit thicker and richer. The Italian version is creamier. They were both so great that I decided to use them both as the base. It's the toppings that matter, anyway.
Because it takes the longest to cook, I first made a barbecued brisket, which I chopped and put on top of the macaroni and cheese. A local food truck serves it this way, and I saw one that looked so good I decided to write an entire story about toppings for macaroni and cheese.
I made the brisket in a slow cooker, which was easy, and the primary flavoring was a bottle of barbecue sauce, which made it easier. All I had to add were some onions, a touch of brown sugar and a handful of spices.
The beef had just a hint of a kick to it, because of the barbecue sauce, which makes it the perfect foil for a smooth and creamy macaroni and cheese.
And that was the thinking behind my second topping, too. Few foods go as well with a rich creaminess as Buffalo chicken. So I made a Buffalo sauce (it's basically Frank's RedHot sauce and butter, plus some vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, cayenne pepper and garlic powder) and tossed it with some shredded chicken.
The combination of chicken, sauce and macaroni and cheese was bliss on a plate. And only later did I think of a way to make it even more blissful _ by replacing some of the fontina cheese in the macaroni and cheese with blue cheese.
That would be almost more bliss than a fellow could stand.
And speaking of a surfeit of blissfulness, I decided to make a five-spice beef stew and use that with macaroni and cheese, too.
Five-spice powder is a Chinese staple mixing ground Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, ground cloves, cinnamon and fennel seeds. You could make it yourself, but it is easier just to use the mixture from a jar.
I used mine to make a very simple stew consisting merely of beef, broth, onions, garlic and crushed tomatoes, with a liberal dose of the five-spice powder. I wanted the spices to be the most prevalent flavor, guessing that they would be an especially effective counterpoint to the cheese and macaroni.
I was right. And I also liked the way the mixture brought an Asian echo to a quintessentially American and Italian dish.
My last dish of macaroni and cheese was unlike the others. It did combine macaroni with cheese, but it was less creamy than the others because it had no milk (though it did have a bit of cream).
Nothing goes better with cream than mushrooms; entire civilizations could have been built on that combination. This dish first roasts a pound of mushrooms and then mixes them in a pan of macaroni and cheese, including ricotta cheese.
Then it is all baked together. You can smell the mushrooms even as you take it out of the oven. Then, when you taste it, it's even more impressive. It is macaroni and cheese outside the box and taken to another level.
