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Skillet Creamy Macaroni and Cheese — The Saturday Before Easter Side That Holds It All Together

Palm Sunday. First African was beautiful, baby — the palms waving, the choir singing "Hosanna," the whole congregation dressed in their Easter preview outfits. I sang alto in the second row, same spot I've held for thirty years, and I felt the music in my chest the way I always do, like the hymns know something about my insides that I haven't told them.

Easter is this coming Sunday and I have already started cooking. This is not a one-day operation, sugar. Easter dinner in this family is a three-day production. Wednesday I made the pound cake — Hattie Pearl's recipe, butter and sugar and eggs and flour and nothing else because a pound cake doesn't need anything it doesn't already have. Thursday I'll start the ham — brown sugar glaze, cloves pushed in like little stars. Friday the deviled eggs, the potato salad, the sweet potato pie. Saturday the greens, the mac and cheese, the rolls. Sunday morning I'll put the ham in the oven at five a.m. and by noon this house will smell like every good thing in the world.

Earl Jr. and Carolyn are driving down from Atlanta. Patricia and Wayne are coming up from Jacksonville. Denise is ten minutes away, so she's been here every day this week "helping," which means eating whatever I'm testing and giving opinions I didn't ask for. Kayla is coming, of course. She's bringing her textbooks because she studies everywhere, including at the dinner table, which I will not allow on Easter Sunday. Some things are sacred.

I pulled out Hattie Pearl's recipe box — the wooden one Earl made me for our tenth anniversary — and went through the Easter recipes. Mama's handwriting is fading on some of the cards, the pencil going soft after all these years, and I traced the letters with my finger. Her sweet potato pie recipe just says "sweet potatoes, butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, nutmeg, cinnamon, pour into crust, bake til done." No measurements. No temperature. She knew it in her hands, and she taught it to me in mine, and now I teach it to Kayla the same way.

Made a test batch of deviled eggs tonight because you don't serve untested deviled eggs at Easter. Earl ate four of them and said, "These are the test ones?" I said, "Yes." He said, "You should test them again." I made another batch. He ate three more. The man has been testing my food for forty-two years and he has never once told me something was wrong. Either I'm perfect or he's wise. Probably both.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Now, I told you Saturday is greens, mac and cheese, and rolls day — and baby, the mac and cheese is the one dish nobody in this family will let me skip. Earl Jr. calls from Atlanta just to confirm it’s on the menu. Kayla will close her textbooks for it. This skillet version is how I make it when I want it creamy and rich without heating up the oven all afternoon, because that oven belongs to the ham on Sunday morning. It’s simple, it’s honest, and it doesn’t need anything it doesn’t already have — kind of like a good pound cake, come to think of it.

Skillet Creamy Macaroni and Cheese

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 pound elbow macaroni
  • 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 3 cups whole milk
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
  • 1 cup mild cheddar cheese, shredded
  • 1 cup Colby Jack cheese, shredded
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon dry mustard

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook elbow macaroni according to package directions until just al dente. Drain and set aside.
  2. Make the roux. In a large deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute until it turns a light golden color and smells nutty.
  3. Build the sauce. Slowly pour in the milk and heavy cream, whisking continuously to prevent lumps. Cook over medium heat, stirring often, for 5 to 7 minutes until the sauce thickens and coats the back of a spoon.
  4. Melt the cheese. Remove the skillet from heat. Stir in the sharp cheddar, mild cheddar, and Colby Jack a handful at a time, stirring until each addition is fully melted and smooth. Season with salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika, and dry mustard.
  5. Combine. Fold the cooked macaroni into the cheese sauce until every noodle is coated. Return the skillet to low heat and stir gently for 2 to 3 minutes until everything is heated through and glossy.
  6. Serve. Remove from heat and let it rest for 5 minutes — the sauce will thicken up just right as it sits. Serve warm straight from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 30g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 580mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 107 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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