This dinner divided opinion over at our house.
Tim argued, “Can there ever be a bad Mac and Cheese?”
I replied, “Good point, but don’t you find this lacking somehow?”
This went back and forth through dinner. As far as I see it– and since I’m writing the review, my opinion is the only one that matters– this one seemed to lack something. I don’t know what that “something” was. I love macaroni and cheese. I love chorizo. I love Manchego. On paper at least, this should have been a winner.
It wasn’t a disaster. But it goes firmly into the “It was fine, it fed us, ” category. (I did find it telling, though, that the leftovers sat unloved in our refrigerator.) Any regular followers of this blog will know that particular conclusion means it’s unlikely to appear on our dinner table again.
It’s like my towering TBR (To Be Read) pile: there’s too many books and not enough time, so if a book doesn’t blow my socks off, I’m not going to waste time on it. It’s tough, but fair.
A cookbook a month 