Baked Chicken and Macaroni and Cheese

by Seth Williams

Baked Chicken

Ingredients:

• 4 medium chicken breasts, about 6 to 8 ounces each
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon salt
• ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper, optional for heat

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
2. Rinse and pat dry the chicken pieces.
3. Rub each piece with olive oil.
4. Season each piece with garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, thyme, salt, pepper, and cayenne.
5. Place the chicken on a baking sheet lined with foil or in a roasting pan.
6. Bake for about 45 to 55 minutes until the skin is golden and crispy and the inside reaches 165 degrees.

Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients:

• 3 cups elbow macaroni, uncooked
• 4 tablespoons butter
• ¼ cup all-purpose flour
• 3 cups whole milk
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 4 cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
• 1 cup Colby Jack cheese, shredded
• 1 teaspoon salt
• ½ teaspoon black pepper
• ½ teaspoon ground mustard, optional
• ½ teaspoon paprika
• ½ cup breadcrumbs, optional topping

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
2. Cook the macaroni until just firm, then drain and set aside.
3. In a saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat, then whisk in the flour to make a smooth paste.
4. Slowly add milk and cream, stirring until the sauce thickens.
5. Stir in 3 cups of cheddar and the Colby Jack until melted and smooth. Add salt, pepper, mustard, and paprika.
6. Mix the cheese sauce with the macaroni and pour into a greased baking dish.
7. Sprinkle the rest of the cheese on top and add breadcrumbs if you want a crunchy topping.
8. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes until the top is golden and bubbling.

Essay: Soul Food, Sundays, and My Grandmother’s Kitchen

Food has always been more than something to fill my stomach. To me, it is memory, love, and identity. I grew up in the South where food means connection and comfort. As a multiethnic American, I learned early that the way we cook and share food says a lot about who we are. When I think about meals that truly represent my family, I always think about Sunday dinners in my grandmother’s kitchen after church.

The moment you walk into her house, you can smell baked chicken roasting in the oven, seasoned just right, and macaroni and cheese bubbling until the top turns golden brown. The whole house feels alive. You can hear gospel music playing softly in the background, someone laughing in the next room, and the soft clatter of dishes being set on the table.

My grandmother’s kitchen is one of my favorite places in the world. It is bright and warm, with sunlight coming through the window over the sink. The walls are soft cream, and the counter holds neat rows of spice jars that have probably been there longer than me. The kitchen always smells like something good, a mix of butter, spices, and sweetness that lingers no matter the day. Her table sits right in the center, a strong wooden table that has seen decades of family dinners, birthdays, and prayers. It is what I would call a true Southern table, one where there is always room for one more plate and no one ever leaves hungry.

Every Sunday after church, my family gathers around that table dressed in our best clothes. My grandmother moves around the kitchen with ease, never needing to look at a recipe. She brushes each piece of chicken with olive oil, then adds garlic, onion, paprika, thyme, and a little cayenne. She cooks by memory and feel, the way her mother taught her. The chicken comes out golden and juicy, and when she sets it on the table beside the bubbling macaroni and cheese, the room gets quiet for a moment. Everyone waits for grace, and then it is laughter, talking, and passing dishes back and forth.

I have always thought of soul food as food born of strength. It came from people who had little and still found a way to make plenty. Our ancestors took what they were given and turned it into something that fed both the body and the soul. They made the best out of hard times, creating meals that carried pride, love, and hope. Every time I eat my grandmother’s cooking, I feel that strength. It reminds me that we come from people who refused to give up, who turned hardship into tradition and love into recipes that still live on today.

Cooking with my grandmother taught me that food is not just about flavor. It is about care and patience. She never measures much of anything. She just knows when it is right. I remember watching her stir the sauce for macaroni, tasting it with the back of a spoon, and smiling when it reached that perfect creamy flavor. She always tells me that food made with love tastes different, and I believe her.

When everyone gathers to eat, it is more than a meal. It is family, laughter, and belonging all at once. Someone always tells a story about something that happened years ago, and someone else laughs so hard they nearly cry. These dinners remind me what it means to be Southern, where food and family always go hand in hand.

To some people, baked chicken and macaroni and cheese might just be ordinary dishes. To me, they are reminders of home. They are the smell of Sunday afternoons, the sound of my grandmother’s voice, and the warmth of her kitchen. Every bite feels like a connection to something much bigger than myself.

One day, I will be the one standing in that same kitchen or maybe in my own, brushing oil on chicken and stirring cheese sauce for macaroni. I will make sure everyone’s plate is full before I sit down. I will make the same food my grandmother made and teach my children the same way she taught me. Passing these recipes down is how I keep our story alive.

Every time I cook, I feel like I am carrying a piece of my grandmother with me. Her strength, her faith, and her love live on through these meals. And as long as these recipes are cooked and shared, our family’s story will never fade.