Old fashioned American cheese
Cheesy is an interesting word and one I ponder in fond remembrance of decades past when my whole family clustered around what my dad called the “boob tube” for an hour of televised fun. Those days seemed to vanish like Velveeta, but now, like the gooey cheese that vanished from supermarket shelves, happy days are back! Americans of all ages, income levels, ethnicities and religions have come home to TV cheese. Statistically, one in every seven Americans is glued to the tube on Tuesday nights watching a Horatio Alger drama play out in our living rooms. It is “American Idol,” a simple show that has become a pop culture phenom as pervasive in the 21st century as “Laugh-In” was in my youth. In a century when social psychologists moan about the “me-ism” of Gen-Y and politicians scorn the absence of voters at the polls, “American Idol” is the pop that binds. More votes are cast every Tuesday night in winter than in any November in history. Scoffers will object to that stat, noting that “Idol” encourages voting twice or even three times for the candidate of your choice, but there’s the germ of an idea in that.
It may not be a bad thing. Wouldn’t ballot stuffing be an effective way to gauge preference? After all, who would waste time hitting redial if he or she didn’t really care who won? Today, there are so few strong feelings about any presidential candidate, if we pounded the redial button for someone we cared about, pollsters, the media and fundraising hucksters would have a better sense of whether views are held deeply enough to translate into votes at the polls or money from our wallets.
That brings me back to the genius of “Idol.” Last week was all about the “shockers”-three singers deemed by the judges as certain to “go all the way” were bumped off by the polls. “Omigosh-did you see Idol?!” was the cry heard all over town. At the cleaners, from a toddler at Brite Child, from an ancient at my mother’s retirement home, came a chorus of disbelief that transcended age or circumstance. What happened? I call it the “electability effect” or the “curse of the gurus”-a human abrogation of responsibility to the sages. If someone more knowledgeable has already forecast the outcome, we can kick back and rest easy. In the case of “Idol,” it ain’t so. When viewers don’t vote, those singers praised by the judges caught a Judas-kiss from Simon or Paula or Randy. They’re dead! Weirdly, front-runners don’t get votes and sweet, warbly young people called “pitchy” by the judges get millions of sympathy votes and stay on the show.
It’s not a bad thing to be an Idol also-ran. One won an Oscar and another tops the billboard charts. Another stars on Broadway and another just released her first album to critical raves. Still, being America’s Idol is a title worth winning, and though the show is often cheesy, our family is hooked. Tuesday night we sit down together at eight, sans Tivo, and watch a dozen hopefuls from nowhere sing their hearts out in the hopes of winning the peak of pop culture. And, from now on, we vote at nine. Maybe our favorite still won’t win, but at least we will have had our say. It’s the American Way.
Mac & Cheese – The Ultimate Comfort Food
Serves 8 – 10
Come Wednesday night, when one Idol hopeful must bid farewell and warble a sad last song, you’d have to be callous as Caligula to gnaw chops. Come Wednesday night, I opt for comfort food, something I can make ahead and bake just long enough that it’s served, creamy hot, as the credits roll.
There are as many variations on mac and cheese as there are American cooks, but I like mine cheesy with a natural chewy crunch that comes strictly from the over-heated cheese binding itself into a protective crust. I ban the Fannie Farmer version, finding basic white sauce as noxious as the kindergarten glue it mimics, but I throw epicurean principles to the wind and use another kindergarten staple, Velveeta, in the sauce. The pasteurization process that makes it gooey keeps the sauce from separating.
Here then is no frills mac and cheese, clipped a long time ago from the The New York Times. Enjoy!
1 stick butter
12 oz. Velveeta, shredded
12 oz. sharp cheddar, shredded
1 lb. elbow macaroni, cooked in salted water until fork tender
2/3 cups half and half
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter the sides and bottom of a heavy baking dish. Mix the cheeses and set aside a couple of handfuls.
2. Toss pasta and cheeses. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Sometimes I throw in herbs or ham. Dump into dish and pour cream over the surface.
3. Sprinkle reserved cheese on top. Dot with butter. You can do this a day or two ahead and refrigerate. Just bring to room temperature before baking.
4. Bake 40 minutes. During a commercial break, raise the oven to 400 degrees and bake until crusty.