writing exercise #2

Voice:

confessional

opinionated

relatable

sarcastic

self-deprecating

wry

pc. Joyce

One of my least favorite questions (after, "what are your hobbies?") is "what is your favorite thing to cook?" Damn, I really don't know. I feel like I barely make the same thing twice. I'm not a meal-prepper. I'm a project-based cook (if that's a thing..). My fridge isn't stocked with the same essentials as my parents'. I actually spend a lot of time scavenging for dinner. I used to be blessed with free lunch everyday at work (at the cost of a fair salary). Now I find I'm reverting back to my grad school days of emergency meals (that is, oatmeal and canned sardines).

But as I recently scrolled through my collected food photos on a nostalgia binge (maybe this is one of my hobbies), I noticed a lot of mac and cheese variations. Turns out the outcome of buying Costco sized blocks of cheese and several boxes of elbow mac is endless days of mac and cheese.

pc. Joyce

I ended up with giant blocks of cheese and several boxes of elbow mac because I continue to be obsessed with mac and cheese cake. Ever since that fateful April Fool's Day that I learned about this thing. Mac and cheese is high up on my list of most perfect foods. A hot bowl of mac and cheese is like snuggling under my weighted blanket when it's finally chilly enough to pull it out of storage, and I might not reemerge until winter has passed. The first bite is steaming, ooey-gooey melting off the spoon, threatening to burn the roof of my mouth so there's only the physical pain to focus on. The next bites are almost a cheesy creamy blur. I disappear into them like I disappear into an oversized bean bag chair, and I don't want to come back out. How did I get here? Where did I come from? Why is my stomach so warm and why is it expanding? This delusional state is exacerbated by all the possible inclusions. I love textural variety and flavor pops, a sharp crunch here or a burst of pungency there to remind me there are things to look forward to.

In cake form the experience is a little different. A block of mac and cheese layered with milky "frosting" is served cold (or room temp) to hold its structure. But there is still indulgence in congealed mac and cheese to be found. I know that doesn't sound appealing, so if you so choose, microwave the slice instead, let the buttery "frosting" seep into the noodly pores. We like to make indulgent food even more indulgent around here where our moods are unpredictable and sometimes you just need to drown in a bowl of fatty, salty comfort to forget how sad you are.

BUT I also love mac and cheese in times of celebration. We deserve this. Which is why mac and cheese in cake form is so fantastic.

This one is a simple cheddar + gouda mac, layered with hatch chilies, and frosted with ranch sugarless ermine. Plus scallions and toasted rice for good playful measure.

Try musubi mac n cheese: cheddar + gruyere mac with chunks of fried spam and generous shakes of furikake, topped with chili oil.

Maybe experimental jiangdoufu mac n cheese: with cheddar, extra scallions and a side of fried Brussels.

Or several bowls of NM mac n cheese: cheddar + gouda mac with hatch chilies, roasted corn, and replenishing squeezes of fresh lime.

What about squash mac n cheese: cheddar + gruyere + gouda mac with so much acorn squash puree you forget there might be cheese, ras al hanout, a side of smoky fried cured mushrooms, and chili oil to top.

My heart works hard so my stomach can work harder.