Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Yucky macinernie

When my niece (the first kid of her generation in the family) was a toddler, Victor, my father, and I babysat her one afternoon. As I said, she was the first kid. She was a novelty, plus those of us who aren't her mother or grandmother weren't very adept at babysitting yet.

I made her lunch: a package of instant macaroni and cheese. My father said "Do you know what you are doing?"

"Of course I know what I'm doing!" I scoffed. "Who can fu- mess up instant macaroni and cheese?"

When I put it in front of her, she said "Yucky macinernie."

Ok, if you don't bother to read the directions, and you assume that the measuring cup that was left out by grandma was meant to be filled only once, you can fu- mess up instant macaroni and cheese. (That is, the powdered cheese stays a bit crumbly, and a toddler will refuse to eat it.)

My niece is now in second grade, and has no memory of that lunch disaster. Victor, on the other hand, remembers it vividly and gleefully. Any time I make any type of macaroni and cheese, he calls it Yucky Macinernie.

I just got this cookbook: Macaroni And Cheese by Marlena Spieler. When I make gratin of penne with artichokes and four cheeses he'd better keep his mouth shut.

Posted by Nic at January 21, 2006 03:28 PM | TrackBack