Spaghetti with Four Cheeses

Travis Abernathy came to Thanksgiving and he passed every test I set without knowing he was being tested, which is the only way a test has any value. He came in with Destiny at noon, and the first thing he did after the introductions—after shaking Calvin's hand and calling him Reverend, which is the right title until Calvin says otherwise—was walk into the kitchen and say, "Mrs. Simms, what can I do?" Not "can I help?"—that's a question, a formality—but "what can I do?" A statement of intent. I said, "Can you peel sweet potatoes?" He said, "Yes, ma'am," and he sat down at the kitchen table and peeled potatoes for twenty minutes without my asking him twice or three times or ever.

He eats well. This was the first test, the table test: how a person eats tells you what you need to know. He ate with attention—not gluttony, not politeness-performance, but genuine attention, the kind of eating that says I know this food is good and I am going to receive it fully and not pretend otherwise. He had seconds of the mac and cheese. He said, "Mrs. Simms, the mac and cheese," in a tone I recognized as the tone of someone who has eaten good mac and cheese before and knows this is better. The tone of Marcus. The same words. I had to look away for a moment.

He noticed when CJ's sweet tea glass was empty and refilled it before CJ asked. He helped clear the table after dinner without being asked. He was funny—genuinely funny, the dry deadpan kind—and when Calvin started in on the football debate he did not tell Calvin he was wrong even when Calvin was wrong, which is either wisdom or football ignorance and either one is acceptable. After dinner, when the dishes were done and the family was scattered in the living room, he came and found me in the kitchen and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Simms. I have never eaten a meal like that in my life." I looked at him for a moment and I said, "Well, Travis, you are going to need to get used to it." He smiled. He understood. Welcome to this family. Welcome to this table.

People ask me why I make a cheese pasta instead of a traditional baked mac, and the answer is that this recipe has more give to it — more layers, more depth — and a Thanksgiving table needs food with depth to match the moment. Travis said “Mrs. Simms, the mac and cheese” in that tone, and I knew exactly what he meant, because I have heard that tone before from people who love this table, and I hope to hear it from him for many years to come. This is the recipe. This is the one.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb spaghetti
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 cups whole milk, warmed
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1 cup Gruyère cheese, shredded
3/4 cup fontina cheese, shredded
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard powder
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon olive oil

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook spaghetti according to package directions until just al dente, about 1 minute less than directed. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain and set aside.
Make the roux. In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven, melt butter over medium heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for about 2 minutes until the mixture turns lightly golden and smells nutty.
Build the sauce. Gradually whisk in the warmed milk and cream, a little at a time, keeping the mixture smooth. Continue whisking over medium heat until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 8–10 minutes.
Add the cheeses. Reduce heat to low. Stir in cheddar, Gruyère, fontina, and all but 2 tablespoons of the Parmesan, one handful at a time, letting each addition melt fully before adding the next. Stir in mustard powder, cayenne, and garlic powder. Season with salt and pepper.
Combine. Add the drained spaghetti directly to the cheese sauce, tossing to coat thoroughly. If the sauce feels too thick, add reserved pasta water a splash at a time until it reaches a creamy, flowing consistency.
Prepare the topping and bake. Preheat oven to 375°F. Transfer the pasta mixture to a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. In a small bowl, stir together breadcrumbs, remaining Parmesan, and olive oil, then scatter evenly over the top. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes until bubbling around the edges and golden on top.
Rest and serve. Let the dish rest for 5 minutes before serving. It sets slightly as it cools, making it easier to serve in generous portions at the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spaghetti with Four Cheeses — The Mac and Cheese That Made Travis Welcome