Sunday Supper 9: "Bougie" Mac n' Cheese

A #riffcepie: (that's right, I'm still doing it) based on Cauliflower, Pancetta and Taleggio Bake from Delicious Magazine.

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Mac n' Cheese is one of those dishes, that once the idea enters my head, it's only a matter of time (and usually a short amount of time) before I just have to make it. I think, more than any other single food or dish, mac n' cheese is the dish I think of when I think "comfort food." When I get homesick, or anxious, or depressed or stressed, and I close my eyes and imagine a food to fix the problems of the day, I see Mac n' Cheese. Creamy, cheesy, rich, decadent, piping hot mac n' cheese.

In many ways, these warm and fuzzy feelings are because mac n' cheese has always been a big part of my cooking and eating life. Growing up, mac n' cheese was one of my mom's signature dishes for family gatherings. I remember watching her make it at home, then carefully packing it up for the drive across state lines for Easters and Thanksgivings and Mothers Days. As soon as I was old enough, I started helping, put in charge of the constant stirring required for the "white sauce," as I was taught. I didn't realize it then, but I was learning the basics of one of the Five Mother Sauces of French cuisine - right in my mother's Indiana kitchen. White sauce is, after all, a down-home name for bechamel sauce, becoming a mornay sauce when you add the cheese. Oh, the cheese.

Since those early days, I still turn to mac n' cheese when I need to turn a day around, or when I feel like I deserve a treat, or when I randomly happen to remember how much I love mac n' cheese.

Comfort food aficionados will say, for a number of reasons, that this recipe isn't a true traditional mac n' cheese. And they'd be right. But I say: it's a baked pasta-in-cheese-sauce dish, so it checks enough boxes to make me happy.

This recipe is sort of "grown up," this recipe is aiming for "sophisticated," this recipe is a little bit "extra." But most of all, she bougie. This mac n' cheese looks down on you if you're not baking it in Le Creuset. This mac n' cheese would prefer to only be handled with Williams Sonoma oven mitts. But obviously, you don't need the fancy brand name equipment (lord knows I don't have it), but you do need to embrace your inner bougie with your ingredients, and you'll be well on your way.

There's no cheddar in sight here. The yellow-orangey gooey deliciousness of cheddar is replaced here with some fancy-ish Italian and French cheeses to create a rich, velvety, unctuous almost cream-like sauce with layers of subtle, but complex flavors. I love me some cheddar cheese mac, and will certainly continue to make it, but this sauce did blow my mind just a little bit. The tang and earthy funk of brie and the super-delicate sharpness of fontina just work together on all sorts of levels.

For the brie, I used a double cream brie, which I would really recommend. The natural funk of brie is subdued slightly in a double cream and doesn't linger on your tongue quite so much. I used a domestic fontina, because that's what the shop had, but I bet a true blue Italian fontina would kick things even further into the stratosphere.

The cauliflower is something I lifted directly from the source recipe. I've never used cauliflower in a mac n' cheese before, but I will do it again. Cauliflower, when cooked, takes on a pronounced nuttiness and a beautiful silkiness. As a counterpoint to the pasta and cheese, it sings out Louise.

The addition of white wine to the bechamel here was also new to me. The relatives we were cooking for back in my mom's kitchen would certainly never have approved of a little hooch in the mac. But the sweet-sourness of white wine teamed up with the brie in this recipe to give the whole thing this current of almost earthiness I've never experienced in a mac n' cheese before. I broke a cardinal rule here, and used a cheap white wine that I would never drink. I regret that. A bit nicer wine would have been a serious improvement.

The real surprise winner here, though, is parsley. I know, right? Parsley, in general, is something I'm just coming around to really liking. Normally in a recipe like this I'd be tempted to omit it, because it's just parsley. But trust me, keep the parsley. The herbaceous brightness cuts right through the dish, even after baking, rounding out the tour of your tastebuds, and it is truly what will hook you for bite after bite.

Without further rambling about my storied relationship with mac n' cheese, here's the recipe I came up with, while riffing on the source.

"Bougie" Mac n' Cheese

• 2 Tbsp Butter

• 4 oz Pancetta

• 1/4 cup (heaping) All Purpose Flour

• 1 1/4 cup dry white wine (like Pinot Grigio)

• 4 cups whole milk

• 1/4 lb. brie cheese, rind removed and chopped

• 1/4 lb. fontina cheese, rind removed and chopped

• 1 bunch of fresh parsley, finely chopped

• 1 lb. mostaccioli

• 3-4 cups cauliflower florets, chopped

• 1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan

• 1/4 cup breadcrumbs

1. Preheat oven to 400˚. Butter a 9x13 or similar baking dish. Warm the milk in a small saucepan until it just starts to steam, then set aside.

2. Melt butter in a large sauce pan and cook pancetta in butter over medium heat until it begins to crisp. About 4-5 minutes.

3. Add in the flour and whisk or stir constantly for 1-2 minutes until the roux dries out just a bit.

4. Slowly stream in the wine and continue to stir constantly and let the mixture bubble and reduce by half. About 4-5 minutes.

5. Pour in the warmed milk and continue stirring until the sauce thickens to coat a spoon. About 3-5 minutes.

6. Add in the cheese and whisk until it is all melted. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Add in the parsley.

7. Meanwhile, while making the sauce, cook the pasta according to package directions in salted water. Add the cauliflower florets in the last couple minutes of pasta cooking time. Return the water to a boil and finish the cooking time.

8. Add cooked and drained pasta and cauliflower to the cheese sauce and stir to coat.

9. Pour the mac n' cheese into the baking dish and top with parmesan and bread crumbs.

10. Bake for 25-30 minutes until starting to brown on top.

I served this with absolutely nothing. Just me, a fork, and a big ol' bowl of bougie mac n cheese goodness. Perfection.

Rating: 4.9/5

Will I Make It Again?: Abso-lutely.