Visit from Long Lost Friend Reveals Food Snobbery

I wasn't feeling well today, and so I thought that having mac and cheese might make me feel better.  Maybe?  Annie's boxed Mac and Cheese, with the perky rabbit smiling (smirking?) from his perch, was something I had been waiting for.  I bought the box a couple months ago, and it was waiting for today to be consumed.  What started out as an American experience - the innocuous making of a box of mac and cheese - became something that made me slightly ashamed of what I have become.  A food snob.  My boxed mac and cheese needed a lot more cheese.

Here's what happened.  I sauteed some onions and medallions of chicken sausage, boiled my pasta, made my cheese sauce (from the box), and once I put together the cheese and the pasta . . . I tasted . . . and nothing.  No creamy, cheesy, pizazzy comfort.  Not at all.  Had my mac and cheese experiences from Stephen Starr restaurants and BLSA food sales really upped my expectations of mac and cheese?   Apparently.  I have sadly become a mac and cheese snob.  I guess this was inevitable.   But to turn my nose at boxed mac and cheese?  I might have my citizenship revoked.  My mother will be so ashamed to read this post.

So, I mixed in the onions and sausage, put it all on top of a bed of spinach, and added a final super hefty dose of grated gruyere.  And it was good.

Problem solved.

And yes, the rabbit is directing me to the complaints department.