Let Me Tell You About Tini’s Mac and Cheese

I’m not going to pretend I grew up in a castle (or even a fancy house, really), but if anything ever felt royal at my childhood table, it was Tini’s Mac and Cheese. You know those days when the weather is just miserable or you’re so tired you can barely muster the energy to boil water? That’s when this recipe swoops in like a cozy blanket—though sometimes it ends up as a not-so-elegant mound of noodles because, well, distractions.

By the way, "Tini" is my great aunt, or maybe cousin (we’ve had family debates), but whoever she was, her mac and cheese always disappeared fast. I once made this for a group of friends and someone asked if I’d brought extra for breakfast. Little did they know, I often eat the leftovers cold, straight from the fridge—try it before you judge!

Why This Version Is a Lifesaver

I’ll throw this together when I need comfort, or if my family is hinting (not so subtly) for something rich and cheesy—they're basically cheese bandits! My kids will wage full-scale war over who gets the corner pieces with the max crispy cheese. Plus, on nights when I’m feeling a bit lazy (which is, let’s be real, plenty), I’ll swap the fancy cheese for whatever is left in the fridge, and it still gets rave reviews.

Sometimes the sauce ends up a bit lumpy if I rush the roux (a word I probably say differently every time), but honestly, it sorts itself out in the oven. The only real problem? Washing the dish after. Oy.

Here’s What You’ll Need—Don’t Panic If You’re Missing Something

2 cups elbow macaroni (or really, any pasta with an attitude—penne, shells, or half a box of both because that’s what’s left)
2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, grated (my gran swore by Cracker Barrel, but store brand totally works)
1 cup Gruyère or Swiss cheese, grated (sometimes I just do all cheddar, or whatever I find on offer)
½ cup whole milk (sometimes I use a splash of cream if I’m feeling decadent, or even oat milk—don’t tell Tini)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons plain flour
¾ teaspoon mustard powder (or a squirt of Dijon in a pinch)
½ teaspoon smoked paprika (optional, but I love the warmth)
Salt and black pepper, to taste (don’t be shy!)
A handful of breadcrumbs (panko is my fave, but leftover toast blitzed in the processor is great)
Bit of extra cheese for topping, of course (more the merrier)

How I Make It (and You Should, Too)

Preheat your oven to 180°C/350°F. If you forget and have to wait, don’t worry—I always do.
Boil the pasta in salted water until just shy of done (al dente, as the pros say). Drain and try not to eat too many noodles straight from the pot.
Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and keep stirring for about 1 minute—a bit like you’re making a half-hearted pancake, just enough to get rid of the raw smell.
Pour in the milk slowly, whisk out any lumps (don’t fret if it’s clumpy at first, it’ll smooth out as it heats). This is where I usually end up distracted by the kids and forget to stir, so, keep an eye on it.
Once the sauce thickens—coats the back of a spoon, not quite pudding consistency—toss in the cheese (cheddar first, then Gruyère). Keep stirring until it’s all melted and just dreamy. Add mustard, paprika, and a generous sprinkle of salt and pepper.
Tip the drained pasta into the cheese sauce, toss (vigorously, so every noodle gets a hug of cheese), and have a taste. Adjust salt if you fancy.
Pour everything into a baking dish. Scatter breadcrumbs and more cheese on top (sometimes I go berserk here, not sorry).
Bake for 20–25 minutes, or until it looks bubbly and a little brown at the edges. It always looks a bit too molten at first, but let it sit for 5ish minutes—much easier to dish out.

Side Notes I Picked Up the Hard Way

Too much flour, and the sauce goes paste-y fast. I’ve definitely found this out the long, gloopy way.
Don’t use pre-shredded cheese if you can help it; it’s coated in stuff that, for reasons beyond my understanding, keeps it from melting into that glorious goo. But, I mean, if it’s all you’ve got, go for it.
I tried baking it in a metal pan once, thinking it’d crisp better, but the sides dried out like a week-old scone.

Some Twists and a Fail or Two

I once added cooked bacon bits—everyone lost their minds (in a good way).
Hot sauce stirred in? Magic if you’re into a little kick. My sister says it’s basically adult mac and cheese.
Cauliflower in place of half the pasta was... okay-ish. “Different,” as my son politely put it (I probably won’t do that again, but hey, experiment and see what happens!)
A spoonful of ricotta in the sauce made it extra creamy, though I’m not sure Tini would approve.

Do You Really Need Fancy Gear?

I use a basic whisk and a medium saucepan—nothing special. If you don’t have a whisk, a fork and some elbow grease will do the trick. As for baking dishes, any oven-safe casserole works; once, I even doubled the recipe and stuffed it in my biggest soup pot (don’t recommend, it took forever to bake, but survival mode, right?).

How to Stash the Leftovers (If You Have Any)

Store anything that’s left in an airtight container in the fridge. Reheats great either in the microwave (with a splash of milk) or in a low oven. Honestly, in my house, it's rare for any to survive past the first day. I think this mac and cheese might just taste better the next day, but—nobody’s actually lived long enough with leftovers to confirm how long it keeps.

How We Serve It Around Here

You can dish it up on its own, or pile a green salad beside it if you’re feeling virtuous. Sometimes I’ll add tinned tomatoes on the side for a zingy touch. Once we took it to a picnic (ambitious, I know), and ate it with grilled sausages—unplanned combo, would recommend.

Things I Learned the Hard Way (A.K.A Pro-ish Tips)

Don’t rush the sauce; I once did and got grainy, weird-tasting cheese. Just let it melt at its own pace, trust me.
I used to under-bake it to avoid drying out the top, but actually, that golden crust is what makes it special—live a little!
Oh, and don’t forget to salt the pasta water; otherwise the whole thing tastes sort of flat. Rookie mistake (guilty as charged).

Pulled This from Real Questions I’ve Gotten

Can I make this ahead? Sure thing! Assemble up to the baking stage, cover, and keep in the fridge for up to 24 hours. Bake off when you’re good and ready.
Can I freeze it? Well... you can, but the texture takes a hit. Gets a bit gritty when thawed. Tastes alright, just...not peak gooeyness, ya know?
Is there a gluten-free option? Absolutely—swap in gluten-free pasta and use a plain gluten-free flour, like this option from Minimalist Baker. Won’t fool you into thinking it’s the wheat stuff, but it does the job.
What cheese melts best? Good old sharp cheddar. But mix it up with mozzarella, a handful of fontina, or even Colby if you want to get a bit wild. Also, this cheese guide from Serious Eats is a decent read if you have time to spare.
Help—my sauce split! Happens to the best of us. Sometimes I whisk in a splash of hot milk and it comes back around. Or just add more cheese (never a bad idea).

Oh, and if you’re curious about other kinds of mac and cheese fandom, check out these Southern versions—I can’t choose a favorite, but Tini’s will always be home for me.

Tini’s Mac and Cheese