People react to stress in a variety of different and complex ways. Some lose sleep and move from one panic attack to another, like a high-wired Chihuahua on speed. Others sleep all day and cut off any communication with the outside world, turning into red-eyed sofa zombies.
On the culinary front, there are lucky individuals, who at the first signs of stress loose appetite for weeks on end and come out on the other side slim and trim, if only a little pale. Others, like myself, turn into a bottomless vortex, raid the fridge and eat everything that is not nailed or glued down. This purge is usually paired with unlimited consumption of alcoholic beverages, guaranteed to swiftly turn one into a human version of Jabba the Hutt.
Having pledged reluctant loyalty to the latter camp, I am here to provide support to other weirdoes suffering from the gluttonous stress disorder with throwing the ultimate “stuff your face” recipe of Mac & Cheese into the masses.
There are about a thousand Mac &Cheese recipes out there – from some fucked up vegan disasters to a carb-bomb baked versions. You can try them all for as long as the depth of your stress and depression allows. I did go through quite a few, and swear by this one, by Laura from Joy Food Sunshine, so if you want a guaranteed result – visit her site, or continue reading my abbreviated and slightly more rude version here.
Mac & Cheese is the nostalgic childhood snack of any American child, and a popular and proud member of any grown-up buffet all over the United States. It is beautiful, filling, and comforting. Don’t kid yourself, though – Mac & Cheese has zero nutritional value, which makes it all the more craved for food in times of distress. After laying about in your stomack like a brick for hours, it finds its way straight to your hips, and stays there indefinitely, olivious to all the possible gym hours you might be clocking to rid yourself of this soul-warming guest. Here you are – enjoy at your own risk and don’t say you have not been warned.
- Elbow macaroni pasta. (As much as you want to stuff your face with. Regular portion for one hungry individual calls for 100 gr. Take it as a starting point, and eyeball from there.) If you do not know what elbow macaroni past is – fucking google it.
- Butter – 1 tbs
- Milk – about 100-120 ml
- Flower – 1 tbs not completely full
- Sour cream – 1 tbs
- Grated Cheddar cheese (40-50 gr, as much as your greedy soul desires). They say you can theoretically use any kind of cheese, but it fucking helps to follow the proper recipe – Cheddar is MUCH better!
- Garlic salt – a pinch
- Salt – a pinch
Boil the pasta according to instructions on the packet. If you like your pasta al-fucking-dente, take it out about a minute earlier. If you prefer to eat well-boiled mush (no judgement!) – add 3-5 minutes to the packet time. Drain it and leave the fuck alone.
Turn the heat down to medium-low, and in the same pot you boiled the pasta in, melt the butter, add the flower and garlic salt, and quickly whisk it all together to create a roux (this is the shit that will make your sauce thick). Stir this shit around and let it cook for about 60 seconds. As the flower heats up, it will become slightly brownish.
Add milk, whisk well, throw in the sour cream, continuing to whisk away like a rabid raccoon, and see your sauce thicken.
Final touch – fuck the grated Cheddar into the sauce, mix well (this time better with a spoon, unless you fancy licking the sauce off the whisk or soaking it for hours to clean).
Throw the cooked pasta into this cheesy goodness and stir well to combine. Once the little elbow fuckers get filled with the cheesy sauce, your creation is ready to eat.
Depending on the stress levels and the depth of depression, it can be served in a bowl with just a hint of Cayenne pepper on top to spice it up, or spooned up from the pot, while sitting on the sofa in your pajamas crying over the news.