Welcome, I am Alan. If you are like me and are discovering the journey for Mac and Cheese, please enjoy.
Click here to read my previous blog post: Being yourself! Or something obscene, wait that’s me.
Journey – Part 1, for the Mac and Cheese
Moments from my last blog, myself and my girlfriend ventured into the vast unknown land of the flat kitchen. Her being subdued by sadness and multiple forms of intoxication and illness elaborated her sensitivity toward the street lights as if a vampire. Despite being dim they appeared to puncture her very soul. Lights off, pure darkness, 11:30 pm. Food time. My normally easy-going cupboard became what seemed an empty abbess in which my arms flailed towards, reaching nothing in what remained. There, a singular packet of crunchy, sweet, minute in form, PASTA. Open, exposed to air. I must eat this, I thought.
Journey – Part 2, for the Mac and Cheese
My next aim, the pan. Across the far side of the room lay a wide chasm between me and my items of requirement. I was desperate. I could not simply cook the pasta with my pair of hands alone, yes, they may have withstood the heat, but at what risk. And unlike those monsters who eat PASTA with its pure natural crunch, I could not bear its iron-like construct to tear in my mouth. With a lunge of great precision, I reached the island. Stranded and alone, for my girlfriend gave no sound of Presence. I knew now if there was no such equipment here, desperate measures would ensue. Quite easily, I found the pan. Yay. Back to the jump. Again, this chasm of space is dormant upon gaze. Scary to say the least, and aspiring my future ninja warrior. I made it, a second time. Luck was on my side. Maybe God does exist. Or maybe I’m just beyond God.
The more important your cheese is to you the more you want to hold on to it.
Spencer Johnson
Boiling the kettle to induce its labours I waited and bore. Upon the ting of success and whistling of aches, the water was upon the pan, sizzling in its valid heat, enough for the pasta. Enters the pasta from above. Bulldozing in its suicidal efforts to soften against the iron pan, neither comforting the other in their sad screaming demise. Plop. All were equals to me here, all will be EATEN.
Journey – part 3, still for the Mac and Cheese
Cheese time. Checking my other is still alive on the couch, she displays herself placed and still, unaware of my existence. I believe she has fallen asleep. Too eager for this dark cheesy meal of course. A sauce so cheesy I have yet to get right, due to my ability to expertly fucking up stuff. Another Pan before the cheese. I once more retake my pilgrimage to the foreign land upon the island. A trip familiar to me now. Once there I take time to re-admire our collection of spoons and ratio of ten knives to one fork and taking one additional item in development from before. A great greater. Perfect I thought.
Journey part 538… Cheese
Safely regathering myself upon the hob, I extended for the keeper of frozen good. The fridge. Ah, a place far too familiar indeed. Grasping the cheese’s oily skin I scraped it upon the grater’s surface, plunging its remains into the night-covered pot. Next was the butter, yes that’s right, the butter. Cracking open its elongated lid, I softly peeled off its seal, revealing its golden core inside. The likes of which I thrust my silver sword across its perfectly smooth surface. I had ruined the butter. But I was happy. It slopped along what sad particles of cheese covered the sizzling surface of the pan. It was coming together now, and not even I could see it. My second reaction was I have already destroyed and crisped whatever cheese lay below, due to my inability of doing things in the correct order. A sacrifice worth making. It was okay I told myself.
Good Cheese needs good companions
James Beard
By now, both the PASTA and the rich, thick, succulent, and creamy cheese sauce was ready. Of course, I couldn’t actually see any of the sauce at this point due to my lighting situation, but despite this, I knew it was ready. Finally filtering the PASTA to a cleansing style, I poured the majestic sauce on. Yet to know how delicious it would be.
The Finale, with CHEESE
Begining to take the trip over to my unconscious girl on the couch, a flash of light blinded both me and awoke my thought-dead partner. Our flatmate casually smiled at the fact she wanted water in the middle of the night, not knowing two gargoyles wanted to claim PASTA. Quickly recovering I ensured my girlfriend was distracted from this dire act with an incredible bowl of Mac and Cheese. My, was it good. So good to the point where I made it again the following day. Finding at that point I had used a whole block of the exquisite Cathedral cheese. So, if you have learned anything from this, it is that Cathedral cheese is supreme. Please do not endorse in any other regular supplier. In the future, I would like a link to a pure cathedral cheese supplier, in every blog. So, you can get it straight out of the udder.
Thank you once again for wasting your time with my journeys of self-discovery. Bye now.
