Fancy Macaroni with the Pioneer Weasel

Well, it’s Christmas Eve and I have nothing to do. So I decided to throw a little party for myself. And by “throw a little party,” I actually mean, “make some macaroni.” The Pioneer Woman posted a delicious-looking recipe recently, and my roommate graduated last weekend, leaving us with a ton of leftover cheese from the celebration. Do you believe in signs?

I was feeling kind of lame about cooking alone and eating alone and being alone on Christmas Eve, so I decided to pretend I am an internet celebrity and document the whole experiment/experience, because internet celebrities are not talking to themselves when they do stuff, but talking to their audience. Right?

So. I introduce to you: The Pioneer Weasel.

I’m so original.

Here is my workspace:

Only two of the burners on our stove work. That’s why the butter hasn’t melted yet.

And okay. I wasn’t completely alone. As soon as that bacon started sizzling, I had me some kitchen helpers:

 I call this one The Three Little Pigs:

I was so determined to do this right that I even used the microwave timer. If you know me at all, you know that I never, ever do things like
“time” and “measure” when I cook (“cook”). But for you, deliciously cheesy macaroni, I would do anything.

They’re multiplying!

Not to be left out, Copper decided to see how he could help out. Note how big he is. Probably couldn’t fit in the refrigerator if he tried. And Copper is exactly the kind of dog that would try.

Oh, by the way, this is the inside of my refrigerator. And Copper’s tail. Our kitchen is quite small…


And this is the top. Yes, I keep steel-cut oats in a Bacardi bottle. Recycling!

Okay, back to the show: Stuff is boiling and sizzling and melting (very very slowly) and it is time to prepare….zee cheese:

Don’t ask me what kinds they are. I have no idea. I shred cheese indiscriminately.

Well, I know what ONE of the cheeses is: Mozzarella. See those little circle things? That’s chopped up string cheese. Mmmmm.

Oh hey, the timer went off at some point. I don’t know when. I never heard it. Oops. See? That’s why I don’t use timers…

Don’t worry – I took the macaroni out a while ago. I didn’t overcook it. (Who needs timers?) It’s just hanging out in the sink, making funny faces:

Meanwhile, the onions are carmelizing nicely. Mmmmm.

And here are some rocks that live on top of our toaster oven. I took a picture because I didn’t have anything else to do at that very second:

Everything is pretty much done…The bacon and onions are getting to know each other:

They fall in love and leap to their deaths in the cheese-milk-yolk-flour-salt sauce. A delicious death if there ever was one.

Stir stir stir, add macaroni, realize that this looks exactly like Stovetop Helper. Or perhaps Stovetop Helper is meant to look like this.


It does, doesn’t it? Oh, modern marvels.

Even though it looked done to me at this point, the recipe said it had to be baked. So I baked it with some bacon on top:

Twenty sizzling minutes later, I’m spooning homemade macaroni into my mouth, honestly thinking that I prefer Kraft. I am truly a child of my generation.

I mean, this macaroni is not BAD. Not at all. It’s just that Kraft is so good! You can’t compete with perfection! Ah well. “I ate it anyway.” That’s the story of my life.

it’s not pretentious food blog-photography without using your camera’s macro setting at least once

This entry was posted in cooking. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Fancy Macaroni with the Pioneer Weasel

  1. Brad says:

    Karen, it seems to me that this is a post made to simply torture those living in Africa who have not so much as smelled cooking bacon for a year and a half. My stomach is rumbling. *tear*

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s