Can I Blame My Mac and Cheese Obsession on My Mother?

It all began with that first taste of Kraft Macraroni and Cheese.

I know what all you haters are saying. "How can you eat that crap?" Unlike the haters, every so often I shed my 'foodie persona' and relive the days of my childhood. My mom was a dreadful cook so Kraft Mac & Cheese was my comfort food back when I was a fat kid in the late '50's. In those days I could easily suck down the entire box that was supposed to be dinner for three.

Fast forward 50 years later and I can still easily inhale that same box of mac & cheese, and as I'm shoveling it down right out of the pot, fond memories of mom begin to emerge (God rest her soul) standing there in her 'June Cleaver' kitchen apron looking down at me adoringly. I should mention she made one dish, and one dish only extraordinarily well, and that was fried chicken. The problem was she made it for herself around 10 at night and chased it with a couple of Boilermakers, but that's a totally separate blog.

My grandson, Bradley, is also a fellow lover of Kraft Mac & Cheese but I do need to come clean. When he's over for a visit and I'm boiling the water, ready to spill in that fake cheese powder filled with chemicals along with a pound of butter, my eyes get huge and I begin to salivate. I dish up half a serving for him and I can feel myself losing control. As he nibbles away, I selfishly inhale the rest of that box of mac and cheese like it was my last meal on Earth.