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Amazing Vegan Mac and Cheese — The Comfort You Cook When Words Fall Short

September. The season of transitions. School buses are back on the roads. The light is changing — still warm but angled differently, the sun already preparing its retreat. And I am pregnant. Not pregnant again. Not re-pregnant. Just pregnant. I'm being careful with language this time, treating the words like glass. The test was positive two days ago. I stared at it with less joy and more fear than last time, because last time I didn't know what a positive test could become. Now I know. The two lines are the same. The feeling is different. I haven't told Raj yet. I know this sounds strange — he's my husband, he's the father, he has every right to know. But I want twenty-four hours where this information is only mine. Where I can hold it without his hope pressing against mine, without the weight of shared expectation. Just me and two lines and the knowledge that my body is trying again. I told him on Tuesday night. His face did the thing it does when he's processing something enormous — goes very still, then very open. He didn't cry this time. He held my hands and said, "We're going to be careful." "I know." "We're not going to tell anyone." "I know." "And we're going to be okay." "You don't know that." "No. But I'm going to believe it. And you should too." I'm trying. Believing is harder the second time. Hope is harder the second time. Everything is harder the second time except, strangely, the cooking. I made Amma's sambar tonight. Not the everyday sambar — the special one, the one with freshly ground spice powder and drumstick and small onions and tamarind from the good jar. I made it because sambar is the food that grounds me, the dish that says: this is who you are, this is where you come from, this is what you know to be true. I ate it with rice and a prayer — not a religious prayer, just the ordinary, desperate kind: please. Please let this one stay. September. The beginning of fall, the beginning of maybe, the beginning again.

Amma’s sambar was the dish I reached for that night — but not everyone has a jar of tamarind and freshly ground spice powder waiting for them, and I know the feeling I was chasing is universal: that need to make something warm and real with your own hands when the news is too big to hold any other way. This vegan mac and cheese carries that same energy for me on the days I want comfort that feels wholesome, grounding, and completely mine — a sauce built from scratch, nothing out of a box, just the slow, deliberate act of feeding yourself something that says you matter. It’s the recipe I come back to when I need to believe things will be okay.

Amazing Vegan Mac and Cheese

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

  • 12 oz elbow macaroni (or pasta of choice)
  • 1 cup raw cashews, soaked in water for 2 hours (or boiled for 15 minutes and drained)
  • 1 cup carrots, peeled and roughly chopped
  • 1/2 cup Yukon gold potato, peeled and roughly chopped
  • 1 1/4 cups vegetable broth, plus more as needed
  • 1/2 cup unsweetened plain oat milk (or other plant-based milk)
  • 1/4 cup nutritional yeast
  • 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tsp garlic powder
  • 1 tsp onion powder
  • 1/2 tsp dry mustard powder
  • 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
  • 3/4 tsp fine sea salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 tbsp olive oil (optional, for richness)

Instructions

  1. Soak the cashews. Place raw cashews in a bowl and cover with cold water. Soak for at least 2 hours, then drain. If short on time, cover with boiling water and soak for 20 minutes, or simmer in a small pot for 15 minutes until slightly softened, then drain.
  2. Cook the vegetables. Place chopped carrots and potato in a small saucepan. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Cook over medium-high heat for 12–15 minutes, until completely fork-tender. Drain well.
  3. Cook the pasta. While vegetables cook, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/4 cup pasta water, then drain and return pasta to the pot.
  4. Blend the cheese sauce. In a high-speed blender, combine the drained cashews, cooked carrots and potato, vegetable broth, oat milk, nutritional yeast, lemon juice, garlic powder, onion powder, mustard powder, smoked paprika, salt, pepper, and olive oil if using. Blend on high for 60–90 seconds until the sauce is completely smooth and silky. Taste and adjust seasoning.
  5. Combine and heat. Pour the cheese sauce over the drained pasta in the pot. Stir well to coat every piece. Place the pot over medium-low heat and warm gently for 2–3 minutes, stirring frequently. If the sauce thickens too much, loosen it with reserved pasta water or extra vegetable broth, one tablespoon at a time.
  6. Finish and serve. Taste one final time for salt. Divide into bowls and serve immediately. Optional toppings include a pinch of smoked paprika, toasted breadcrumbs, or fresh chives.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 415 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 62g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 370mg

Priya Krishnamurthy
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 75 of Priya’s 30-year story · Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.

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