Macaroni and Cheese

It amazes me that I'm still alive given the junk my brothers and I ate growing up: Kraft Macaroni 'N Cheese, generic soda, iceberg lettuce smothered in Italian dressing whose main ingredient was corn syrup, Twizzlers (love that FD&C Red #40!), Twinkies, Campbell's soup, the drippings left in the pan from pork chops. And so on. But I do have to defend my mom: almost every meal we ate was lovingly made from scratch. That pork fat was not canned!

Seriously, though. She made our birthday cakes from scratch. How often is that done anymore?

I clearly remember my brother and I yearning for some mac and cheese one day. We were--gasp!--out of Kraft. So naturally, my mom made it from scratch...and my brother Nik and I refused to eat it.

So isn't it ironic that mac and cheese made from scratch is all my kids will eat, probably because they never ate it from a box. This past summer, I was shocked when my son was served the artificial plonk at a very popular white table cloth restaurant in Reston Town Center. But I figured, hey, it's mac and cheese, he might eat it. He ate two bites and refused to eat anymore. I asked our waiter to take it back.

So here is my very popular take (at least, it's popular in my household) on Macaroni and Cheese, which I've never tasted because I hate cheese. Hold the phone! Did you see that light bulb go off over my head? Duh, now I know why I liked the boxed stuff from Kraft so much! I hate cheese!

Monika's Macaroni and Cheese, Which She Won't Eat

Serves 2 hungry kids

1/4 box of elbow pasta (aka, 4 oz)

1-2 Tablespoons of milk
About half cup loosely packed slices of Gouda cheese

Cook pasta in small pot of salted boiling water til al dente, about 5 minutes. Drain and return to pot. Over medium-low heat, stir in cheese and milk. Keep stirring til cheese is melted. Add a little salt and pepper and serve hot. Or luke-warm. Or room temp. My kids eat it at any temperature, except stone cold.

Harvest Pear Cocktail

I love fall...until the leaves fall off the trees and everything is brown and gray and ugly.

But really, I do like the season (which officially begins next Tuesday, the 22nd). Great produce is still available at the local farmer's markets, the weather is more comfortable for al fresco dining, and red wines just taste better pared with cooler weather.

I also start drinking more cocktails in the fall. I like my G&T's during the summer months of course, but I also like something with a little more weight. The following recipe was mentioned in the excellent Wine & Spirits column in the Food section of the Washington Post yesterday. Jason Wilson does a very entertaining job of keeping us devoted readers up to speed on the latest cocktail trends. Though he has mentioned his aversion to wine-tails in the past, a few he's tried recently changed his mind. If they all look this good, I think this is one trend we can all embrace. Can't wait to try it...and others.

This recipe was cut and pasted from the Post's website. I made a few small changes to the intro, but otherwise, it's untouched.

Harvest Pear

This recipe originally starts with Yellow Tail Riesling, but a classic German Riesling also works well. The key is choosing one that has a high alcohol content by volume (10 to 12.5 percent).

A domestic pear brandy such as Clear Creek or Aqua Perfecta or any poire Williams eau de vie will work. The original recipe called for 1/2 ounce of amaretto, but Spirits columnist Jason Wilson found that a lesser amount works better. If you love amaretto, feel free to add a little more.

Makes 1 serving

Ingredients:
Ice
1 1/2 ounces Riesling, such as Yellow Tail
1 ounce pear brandy or pear eau de vie
1/4 ounce amaretto
1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon simple syrup (see NOTE)
1 pear slice, for garnish

Directions:

Fill a cocktail shaker halfway with ice.

Add the Riesling, pear brandy or pear eau de vie, amaretto, lemon juice and simple syrup. Shake well, then strain into a chilled cocktail (martini) glass. Garnish with the pear slice.

NOTE: To make simple syrup, combine 1/2 cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of water in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Bring to a slow, rolling boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low and cook for 5 minutes. Transfer to a heatproof container and let cool to room temperature. Cover tightly and refrigerate until chilled through; store indefinitely.

Recipe Source:
Adapted from mixologist Trudy Thomas of the Camelback Inn in Scottsdale, Ariz., for Yellow Tail.

Julie & Julia? Non!

The book Julie & Julia prompted me, for the first time ever, to post a review on Amazon.com. That's how much it sucks.

Would the good people at Back Bay Books please explain to me how they could publish such drivel, such unrelenting negativity, whininess, self-loathing, and cynicism? And then they can refund my money. (Yes, I got it on sale at Barnes & Noble, but I think they owe me the full price of $14.99 for the time I wasted reading up to page 81 before I came to my senses and abandoned it).

To all you "readers" out there who bought the book and turned it into a best seller: read My Life in France by Julia Child and Paul Prud'homme. Then burn your copy of Julie & Julia. Please don't foist it on an unsuspecting friend or relative. They'll disown you.

And to all you critics who praise it up and down and all around in the first six pages of the book: you are hereby relieved of your job.

I expected this book would contain numerous excerpts from her now-famous blog, detailing how the recipes faired. Was I wrong.

The massive disappointment is on every level. The writing is not very good, but it gets worse. Julie Powell does nothing but complain: about her job, her commute, her apt. in Brooklyn, her new, worse apt. in Queens, her husband, her cooking ability, her small kitchen, her family, her friends, the families who lost loved ones on 9/11 (she might as well have burned a few American flags out by the World Trader Center site). And there is nary a blog post excerpt in sight. She does make up scenes out of the Childs' life, though. How...quaint.

The last straw came when she sent her husband, brother, and friend on an exhaustive hunt all over Manhattan for a marrow bone. Why she couldn't do this is a question for the ages. But, after many false starts, they arrive home with it, triumphant and pleased as punch (apparently, buying a marrow bone is not easy, even in NYC). And what's her reaction? She sighed because her friend decided not to come "all the way out" to Long Island City. No thank you, no high fives, no little victory dance. And then Julie realizes she doesn't have a cleaver to split open the bone. Duh, don't you read recipes all the way through first?!

ARRGHHH! It was shortly after this that I put the book down for good. Time to go burn my copy.