Roasted Butternut Squash Mac and Cheese
Reblogged from Sports-glutton.com
Traveling hindered me from posting a gluttonous recipe last week, but we’re back on schedule this week with a healthier alternative of that old favorite Mac & Cheese. As with any mac & cheese recipe this one couldn’t be simpler: prepare a few items, toss em all in a pot, and stir. However, it’s the subtle nuances of herbs, the slight amount of heat from cayenne, and the combination of Montegrappa cheese* and roasted butternut squash that sets this mac & cheese recipe apart anything out of a box.
Read more and get the recipe.
Note from KS: In addition to providing all manner of sporty updates, the Sports Glutton is a serious cook! This recipe takes mac and cheese to new and previously un-dreamt of heights. The instructions are clear and easy to follow. If you’re pressed for time, you could substitute frozen squash, but really fresh is so much better. Ideal for a company meal or a kitchen supper. Well done, Glutton!
Happy All Saints Day! Celebrate with my pals Mac & Cheese.
In my house, November first is a day of atonement. After coping with four days of rapidly escalating, sugar-induced psychosis, my family expects something from me by way of recompense. Rightly so. And after mainlining Mars bars for a week, I must admit that it’s time to get back on the straight and narrow. Body chemistry is a mysterious thing, however, and it doesn’t always pay to swing too far too fast. In other words, avoid shocking your system with huge amounts of raw vegetables and mung beans and take a day or so to EASE back to more abstemious, healthier habits. It’s all about managing the transition, folks, and for that I rely on the old faithful – not the geyser, but macaroni and cheese.
Before we get into the nuts and bolts of it all, let me offer a few crucial tips:
- Undercook the macaroni before baking or it will be too soft and mushy when you take it out of the oven. So for example, if the box calls for 10 minutes of boiling, only do 6 to 7 minutes. The mac should be less than al dente when you drain it.
- No orange cheddar cheese. Ever. For anything. The color comes from dye, and no cheese should ever be that color. Here’s the explanation if you’re interested. Read the rest of this entry
Lobster Mac and Cheese: The end of civilization as we know it? I think so.
Posted by WSW
I’m not necessarily opposed to gilding the lily. In truth I enjoy a gold covered stamen as much as the next slattern. Neither am I in any way against indulging in a little wretched excess from time to time. A third round of Singapore Slings before dinner? Serve ’em up! Deep fat fried cheesecake? I’m game if y’all are, Paula. Pepperoni AND sausage on that double cheese pie? Why the hell not? As long as I’ve got a full six pack in the fridge it’s all good.
Courtesy the Food Network. Ewww.
No, I’m no stranger to overindulgence, even gluttony, but even so one has to draw the line somewhere, and for me it’s the addition of lobster to macaroni and cheese or mac and cheese to lobster, depending on your point of view. It’s just too much of a good thing, and though I tend to regard moderation as the province of Gwyneth Paltrow, sissies, milquetoasts and Proust scholars, in this I’m with the mung beaners. Lobster simply has no place in the all-American favorite.
Here’s why: With macaroni and cheese you always run the risk of leaving the table with a stodge ball lodged uncomfortably amidships. Because the dish is delicious in the extreme, more often than not the temptation is to overindulge. It doesn’t matter how much steamed asparagus, undressed green salad or ratatouille comes with it, you will almost certainly waddle away from the table, then collapse on the nearest horizontal surface only to awake two hours later, sweaty, parched and numb from the waist down because the waistband of your pants has cut off all circulation to the lower extremities. The same holds true for meals involving the noble crustacean. So mind bogglingly delicious is the flesh of the bottom feeder, especially when dipped in melted butter, it is only the labor involved in extracting it and the enormous expense of ordering up a second one that keep the delirious diner from taxing the digestive system beyond its limits. When the two are combined, no good can come of it.
“Here’s mine. Your LobMacChee is out back in the trough.”
That LobMacChee is much of a muchness is not sufficient for condemnation, of course. Many things are excessive and still manage to stay on my menu — hot fudge brownie sundaes, double bacon bleu cheeseburgers, champagne cocktails and PopTarts for breakfast, to name but a few. No, the reason I object to this new taste sensation is that the combination diminishes the components. The whole is actually less than the sum of its parts. The cheese overpowers the lobster, the lobster distracts from the mac and cheese, and neither shines. And that, quite simply, is why I view the dish as a crime against the palate.
Lobster mac and cheese occasionally turns up among restaurant offerings in the metropolis; however, in the eateries of Downeast Maine it is now apparently de rigeur, as common as muffin tops, missing teeth and limp cole slaw. In fact, it appeared on every menu I perused on my recent trip north to open up the Slattern family summer palace on scenic Chum Bucket Lane. I can only assume the plague is spreading, so consider yourselves warned.
Still not convinced? Well, different streaks, as the saying goes. If you must, here’s a recipe for lobster macaroni and cheese from none other than Her Bang-cellency, the one and only Ina Garten. What else makes sense?
Posted in Commentary, Dinner
Tags: bottom feeder, Cook, Food, gilding the lilly, Ina Garten, Kitchen Slattern, Lobster, lower extremities, mac and cheese, macaroni & cheese, restaurants, singapore slings, Slattern, slatternly