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| Katie Cambron Class of 2016 |
For my entire life, macaroni and cheese has been my favorite food. However, I am quite picky when it comes to this popular American dish and no macaroni and cheese has ever compared to that which comes from my grandma’s kitchen. I’m convinced that no one will ever live up to the expectations she has created. As my beloved grandmother is advancing in age, I have come to the realization that someone must learn to recreate this favorite family dish. Who better to take on this challenge than myself?
A few months ago during an afternoon visit with Grandma, I told her I thought it was time I learned how to make “her” macaroni and cheese. She excitedly agreed and was soon gathering ingredients. There was no point in writing down an actual recipe as my grandma has always been a “dash of this and pinch of that” kind of cook. (But hey, aren’t those always the best cooks?!) After lots of questions and an “Oh my gosh Grandma, you use that much Velveeta!?!” we had a savory, cheesy, and love filled pan of macaroni and cheese. I thought I was now prepared to recreate this same dish whenever my appetite so desired.
Fast forward a few weeks to my first solo attempt at macaroni and cheese. This was a decent attempt, but it still wasn’t anything like Grandma’s. I made several other attempts, each a little better than the previous, but something was always off. The noodles were too soggy, or it wasn’t creamy enough, and a few times it was too salty. I had basically given up hope and was ready to resort back to Kraft box kits, when I saw the light.
Through the McConnell Center, I was presented with an opportunity to learn about and practice meditation and mindfulness. I know what you’re thinking, “How could this possibly tie into macaroni and cheese?” I promise there is a connection.
Although I am a very struggling meditator, I found a particular interest in the practice of mindfulness. It is quite alarming how many things I do through the course of the day without actually thinking about what I’m doing. Brushing my teeth, dressing for the day, walking to classes, and even driving are typically things I do in robot-mode. Very rarely do I perform the acts with a clear mind; I’m thinking about my to-do list for the day, analyzing a conversation I recently had, or checking my phone instead of embracing all of my senses in the current moment.
It was during a session about practicing mindful eating that I had my big “ah-ha” moment. As I was challenged by the instructor to eat a Hershey bar and only think about the tastes and sensations I was experiencing, I realized this is something I rarely do when I consume food. Not so coincidently, cooking is also something I tend not to do mindfully. When I cook, not just pop something in the microwave, but actually prep and measure ingredients, there is always music blaring and chances are I’m stressing over an exam or something that went wrong that day. So there I had it, it wasn’t that I couldn’t cook macaroni and cheese exactly like my grandma, the problem was with the awareness I had when preparing the dish.
My next attempt at the famed Grandma Cambron mac-n-cheese was quite mindful. Cooking is an art that takes great patience and awareness to master. It’s amazing the difference using all five senses can have in the success of a dish. As I took the time to fully remember the interaction with my grandmother and focus on all of the dashes, pinches, and half-block of Velveeta, everything else from the day disappeared. The moment was here, it was now, and my kitchen smelled deliciously of melted cheese and satisfaction. I would say that my completed macaroni and cheese was 99% perfection in comparison to Grandma’s. (Let’s be honest, grandmas cook with love so I will never master that last 1% until the day I have my own kids and grandkids, and even then, to me, nothing will ever compare to the cooking of “my grandma”.)
I concede that this post may have been a tad cheesy, no pun intended, but what is the take away? In my past three years as an undergraduate, I have learned countless lessons and life skills, yet few have seemed quite as important as practicing mindfulness. When we aimlessly carry out our day to day life, we lose a sense of the beauty that surrounds us. Birds chirp on our morning walks, bright and beautiful flowers line the roads that we travel, our teeth feel amazingly clean when brushed, and chocolate is sinfully delicious. There is contentment that comes from experiencing present moments as they are that is unmatched by any other form of relaxation. I close with the words of Marcus Aurelius, “Do every act of your life as though it were the very last act of your life.” (Oh, and the challenge to mindfully cook macaroni and cheese that rivals that of your grandmother.)
Katie Cambron is a senior McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville. She majors in economics with a minor in political science.