Creamy, gooey, and savory mac 'n cheese. Growing up in the United States, I find it impossible to miss out on becoming familiar with this particular peasant dish. It is one of those nation-forming shared experiences spoken of in sociology and anthropology classes in lofty, mythical tones. To deign down on cheese and butter smothered elbow macaronis with friends and family is to be stitched ever more securely into the fabric of Americana. For you newbies who have somehow yet to try this golden dish, I’m sure you’ll have ample opportunity as Thanksgiving, a very American holiday, draws near.
But how did this poor man’s meal draw so near the heart of a country ostensibly fixated on luxury? Well, like many great American success stories, this one begins overseas in Italy. The precise birthplace of cheesy mac is unknown, though there are recipes for similar dishes appearing as far back as the 1300s in the courts of northern Italy.
America’s courtship with the dish began when former president Thomas Jefferson returned to the states from France, bringing his hankering for macaroni with him. While abroad, he took extensive notes on the process of making mac 'n cheese but eventually settled for importing the noodles to his home, Monticello, where he unleashed the ambitious dish upon his guests with the addition of cheddar cheese to the recipe. And so this early immigrant to the American scene gets a presidential introduction. An auspicious beginning for a “pie called macaroni,” and another feather in the cap of one of our most famous founding fathers.
Jefferson went on to invent new pasta making machines, and a cousin of his, Mary Randolph, got credit for the first American recipe in “The Virginia Housewife.” However, that is not to say that the savory casserole was an instant hit with everyone.
Enter stage right, James Kraft, a consummate businessman and capitalist, left high and dry in 1903 by his partners in the cheese business. He pulled himself up by his proverbial bootstraps, transporting cheese from wholesale warehouses to stores, and eventually earned enough to begin his own revolutionary processed cheese company with his brothers.
Then 1937 was a fortunate time for Kraft macaroni and cheese boxed dinners, one product of the then incorporated Kraft-Phenix Cheese Corporation. It provided an affordable meal for American families struggling to make ends meet during the Great Depression and, according to TIME, more than 50 million boxes of the dirt cheap vitil were sold during World War II. The result? Entire generations of Americans raised on the creamy golden stock of mac 'n cheese, a ready made comfort food.
While Kraft processed mac 'n cheese holds an important place in American history and helped inspire a nationwide love for the dish, it hardly sets the standard. Indeed, even mentioning boxed mac 'n cheese to my mother during the holiday season is likely to get you permanently removed from the premises. You see, mac 'n cheese is personal and a matter of pride to many, whether they prefer it creamy, stringy, gooey or baked into a brick. It is a matter of identity and memory, even within the context of America, and is thus varied and amorphous. Nobody puts Mac in a corner. So my suggestion for the holidays, especially to you new arrivals, is to indulge, feast, go wild sampling all the many strains of this oh so American meal. It will be time well spent.