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Posted

   Remember that awful milk stewed pasta you got in school, that didn't really taste much of anything and was so overcooked that the texture reminded you more of rice porridge than pasta? Whenever you saw the menu for the day and that's what they were serving, usually alongside Falu sausage so dry it would be better employed as doorstops than sustenance, you knew you'd come home starving in the afternoon. Well, to be fair, if you were a schoolboy, chances are you were pretty much always hungry. Growing takes effort, you know!

   Now, instead think back to when you meandered out into the kitchen and inquired what was for dinner, and your father said 'milk stewed macaroni and Falu sausage'? The joy! The anticipation! Not only would the primary ingredient of the sausage actually be meat rather than whatever was scooped up from the slaughterhouse floor like in the sausage served in school, but the pasta was soft, creamy, decadent, but still held texture to it. Of course, when I moved out, I quickly decided that it should be a staple food of the Orwarian household. But, as with everything else, you can't just cook the way it's supposed to be cooked without first experimenting a bit - especially if you're a bit lazy and usually knackered at the end of the day. Thus was born the recipe for milk stewed macaroni I refer to as 'the student's variant'. Why? Because there's less washing up after as you refuse to employ a colander and put any effort into half-cooking the pasta first.

   Later in life I came across a wildly different variant of milk stewed macaroni through a friend, and I've since tried it, and it's fine, but it's not 'quite there' in my opinion - and in stark contrast with the student's variant, it takes even more washing up afterwards as you use two pots.

   I shall now describe each recipe, starting with the lazy student's variant. You'll need:

  • Milk.
  • Pasta.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   Simply put the milk in a pot, along with salt, nutmeg and white pepper, bring to a boil (carefully - you're boiling milk, and the usual rules of boiling milk applies!). Once the milk is bubbling nicely, pop the pasta in the pot, bring it down to a simmer, stir frequently, and just keep doing so until the milk has turned into a thick, creamy sauce and the pasta is softened.

   Easy, right? And it's not bad, but it's not really 'there', and if you skimped out on the milk (because as a lazy student you neither kept track of how much milk you had, or felt like going out to get more) it can turn out pretty dry.

   Now let's look at the third variant of my friend's method, you'll need:

  • Pasta.
  • Milk.
  • Butter.
  • Flour.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   For this you'll need two pots. In one of them, you'll boil the pasta - I shan't insult your intelligence by giving a detailed description of this process, but I will write a sentence probably longer than that to explain how I shan't do so, thusly. In the second pot, we're making a simple Bechamel sauce. Whilst I seriously think that this shouldn't require any instruction either, I suppose there may be the occasional person who is unfamiliar with such basic cooking techniques - in which case I suppose I may also have to point out that an easier way to fill the pasta pot with water than dragging it through a puddle in the street, you could employ the tap over the kitchen sink. So, Bechamel sauce: put butter in a pot and let it smelt (through heat - turn on the stove!), once the water has evaporated from the butter, but before it has gone brown, add an equal amount of flour (by weight, to the butter, jeez), and cook it for about a minute to a minute and a half whilst occasionally giving it a little stir - once the flour is cooked (i.e. no longer raw) and smells like pie dough, you're ready to add the milk to the roux (i.e. the thing in your pot that smells like pie dough. That is roux). Here, I shall chant the white sauce mantra of Chef John; hot roux, cold milk, no lumps. Dunk the lot of the milk in there in one go, give it a good stir. Once the sauce comes up to a simmer it'll thicken. Add salt, nutmeg, and white pepper to taste. The final assembly is as easy as pouring the Bechamel over the pasta and stirring it together. Note that before doing so you should pour away the pasta water. We aren't making soup.

   So there's nothing wrong with this method, but it is a bit more work than the classical method, and to me it just feels as if the Bechamel and the pasta are two separate entities that have been combined. In the classical method, just like the student's method, you create the white sauce through the starch of the pasta, meanwhile letting the milk soak into the pasta, which is sort of where the charm is at, in my opinion.

   The classical method, I've found, feels faster than the other two and create by far the most pleasing result. For that you'll need:

  • Milk.
  • Pasta.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   First, bring some water to a boil and add your pasta to it - as always, the pasta water should be well salted ('as the sea') for the best results. Now if your macaroni's cooking time is 7-8 minutes, you're going to cut that time in half and only boil it for about 4 minutes, before pouring off the water. Now you'll have a pot of half-cooked pasta, and to this you'll add milk (about enough to cover the pasta) along with a pinch of salt, some nutmeg, and white pepper. Bring it to a simmer, stirring frequently (again, you're cooking milk), and once the milk has turned into a nice, creamy coating that doesn't run like a liquid at the bottom of the pot, you're done.

   As for serving, there are two traditional things that go with milk stewed macaroni; the aforementioned Falu sausage (which I suspect may be difficult to find outside of Sweden, but can be substituted for with just about any mild beef sausage), or meatballs (which I hear are actually available abroad, although obviously in inferior quality to proper Swedish meatballs, but that's life for a non-Swede, I guess). You could make your own meatballs, of course, to ensure the quality - but then home made meatballs should always be served with potatoes, brown sauce, lingonberry jam, and pickles. Ordnung muss sein. No exceptions. It's in the law, probably. 

   Of course you're not following tallriksmodellen without any greens, but a green leaf salad on the side just doesn't do it for me for this dish. Personally I go with some oranges. As in, carrots, obviously. Not the fruit oranges, that'd be extremely silly. Simply peel and shred yourself a carrot or two and you're rocking. Or three, if, like me, you really like carrots. 

   And there you have it. Cheerio.

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Posted
9 minutes ago, Orwar said:

   Remember that awful milk stewed pasta you got in school, that didn't really taste much of anything and was so overcooked that the texture reminded you more of rice porridge than pasta? Whenever you saw the menu for the day and that's what they were serving, usually alongside Falu sausage so dry it would be better employed as doorstops than sustenance, you knew you'd come home starving in the afternoon. Well, to be fair, if you were a schoolboy, chances are you were pretty much always hungry. Growing takes effort, you know!

   Now, instead think back to when you meandered out into the kitchen and inquired what was for dinner, and your father said 'milk stewed macaroni and Falu sausage'? The joy! The anticipation! Not only would the primary ingredient of the sausage actually be meat rather than whatever was scooped up from the slaughterhouse floor like in the sausage served in school, but the pasta was soft, creamy, decadent, but still held texture to it. Of course, when I moved out, I quickly decided that it should be a staple food of the Orwarian household. But, as with everything else, you can't just cook the way it's supposed to be cooked without first experimenting a bit - especially if you're a bit lazy and usually knackered at the end of the day. Thus was born the recipe for milk stewed macaroni I refer to as 'the student's variant'. Why? Because there's less washing up after as you refuse to employ a colander and put any effort into half-cooking the pasta first.

   Later in life I came across a wildly different variant of milk stewed macaroni through a friend, and I've since tried it, and it's fine, but it's not 'quite there' in my opinion - and in stark contrast with the student's variant, it takes even more washing up afterwards as you use two pots.

   I shall now describe each recipe, starting with the lazy student's variant. You'll need:

  • Milk.
  • Pasta.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   Simply put the milk in a pot, along with salt, nutmeg and white pepper, bring to a boil (carefully - you're boiling milk, and the usual rules of boiling milk applies!). Once the milk is bubbling nicely, pop the pasta in the pot, bring it down to a simmer, stir frequently, and just keep doing so until the milk has turned into a thick, creamy sauce and the pasta is softened.

   Easy, right? And it's not bad, but it's not really 'there', and if you skimped out on the milk (because as a lazy student you neither kept track of how much milk you had, or felt like going out to get more) it can turn out pretty dry.

   Now let's look at the third variant of my friend's method, you'll need:

  • Pasta.
  • Milk.
  • Butter.
  • Flour.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   For this you'll need two pots. In one of them, you'll boil the pasta - I shan't insult your intelligence by giving a detailed description of this process, but I will write a sentence probably longer than that to explain how I shan't do so, thusly. In the second pot, we're making a simple Bechamel sauce. Whilst I seriously think that this shouldn't require any instruction either, I suppose there may be the occasional person who is unfamiliar with such basic cooking techniques - in which case I suppose I may also have to point out that an easier way to fill the pasta pot with water than dragging it through a puddle in the street, you could employ the tap over the kitchen sink. So, Bechamel sauce: put butter in a pot and let it smelt (through heat - turn on the stove!), once the water has evaporated from the butter, but before it has gone brown, add an equal amount of flour (by weight, to the butter, jeez), and cook it for about a minute to a minute and a half whilst occasionally giving it a little stir - once the flour is cooked (i.e. no longer raw) and smells like pie dough, you're ready to add the milk to the roux (i.e. the thing in your pot that smells like pie dough. That is roux). Here, I shall chant the white sauce mantra of Chef John; hot roux, cold milk, no lumps. Dunk the lot of the milk in there in one go, give it a good stir. Once the sauce comes up to a simmer it'll thicken. Add salt, nutmeg, and white pepper to taste. The final assembly is as easy as pouring the Bechamel over the pasta and stirring it together. Note that before doing so you should pour away the pasta water. We aren't making soup.

   So there's nothing wrong with this method, but it is a bit more work than the classical method, and to me it just feels as if the Bechamel and the pasta are two separate entities that have been combined. In the classical method, just like the student's method, you create the white sauce through the starch of the pasta, meanwhile letting the milk soak into the pasta, which is sort of where the charm is at, in my opinion.

   The classical method, I've found, feels faster than the other two and create by far the most pleasing result. For that you'll need:

  • Milk.
  • Pasta.
  • Salt.
  • Nutmeg.
  • White pepper.

   First, bring some water to a boil and add your pasta to it - as always, the pasta water should be well salted ('as the sea') for the best results. Now if your macaroni's cooking time is 7-8 minutes, you're going to cut that time in half and only boil it for about 4 minutes, before pouring off the water. Now you'll have a pot of half-cooked pasta, and to this you'll add milk (about enough to cover the pasta) along with a pinch of salt, some nutmeg, and white pepper. Bring it to a simmer, stirring frequently (again, you're cooking milk), and once the milk has turned into a nice, creamy coating that doesn't run like a liquid at the bottom of the pot, you're done.

   As for serving, there are two traditional things that go with milk stewed macaroni; the aforementioned Falu sausage (which I suspect may be difficult to find outside of Sweden, but can be substituted for with just about any mild beef sausage), or meatballs (which I hear are actually available abroad, although obviously in inferior quality to proper Swedish meatballs, but that's life for a non-Swede, I guess). You could make your own meatballs, of course, to ensure the quality - but then home made meatballs should always be served with potatoes, brown sauce, lingonberry jam, and pickles. Ordnung muss sein. No exceptions. It's in the law, probably. 

   Of course you're not following tallriksmodellen without any greens, but a green leaf salad on the side just doesn't do it for me for this dish. Personally I go with some oranges. As in, carrots, obviously. Not the fruit oranges, that'd be extremely silly. Simply peel and shred yourself a carrot or two and you're rocking. Or three, if, like me, you really like carrots. 

   And there you have it. Cheerio.

Thank you Orwar!  My dad, the few times I remember him actually cooking, used to make this for us on Saturday afternoons in winter.  He used basically the classical method with left over pasta we had in the fridge.  It was something HIS dad taught him.  It was the nutmeg I remember the most.  And of course, sharing in something my dad made.

Thank you again for the trip down memory lane.  It made me smile. 

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Posted
1 minute ago, nikkidelite said:

curious.. ever pile some cheese into it?

   Yes, how'd I forget to mention the cheese?! 

   When serving, I usually put a little bit of pasta on the plate, then cut a slice or two of cheese on top (aged, fatty cheese - 18 month aged 'priest' cheese is the best!), and then a bit more pasta on top to let the cheese smelt in the middle. Alternatively, if I have like a small lump of cheese left in the fridge, I'll just cut off the wax and shred it, and put it in the pasta pot once I've taken it off the heat.

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Posted
6 minutes ago, nikkidelite said:

same here, this is a new one for me also.. curious.. ever pile some cheese into it?

Everything is better with cheese.

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Posted
34 minutes ago, nikkidelite said:

same here, this is a new one for me also.. curious.. ever pile some cheese into it?

 

31 minutes ago, Bree Giffen said:

Then it becomes an Alfredo sauce.

 

I'd think you'd end up with something more like mac & cheese, since the milk cooks in such that it doesn't really leave a sauce behind -- at least that is what the various descriptions I've read sound like.

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Posted

That brings back horrible memories. My grandma used to make a sweet variant with cinnamon and always forced me to eat up. 🤢
We have a similar sausage. If we don't put the sausage on bread we cut it into about 1cm slices and fry it in a pan, but it's usually served with ketchup and bread or mashed potatoes as a side dish. It might actually go well with your pasta recipe or do you just leave the sausage as it is?

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Posted

I used to make stove top mac & cheese that way. Simmer pasta in milk for 20 minutes and toss in cheese when done.

I wouldn't recommend doing this in a rice cooker. Trust me on this one.

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Posted

I learned how to make bechamel sauce in order to make one of my mom's traditional dishes: creamed salmon on toast.  This is WAY better than chipped beef.  Make some bechamel sauce per Orwar's splendid directions. Leave out the nutmeg, though.  Open a 16 oz. can of salmon.  Sort thru it to remove any bones, especially largish ones like the vertebrae.  Add to the bechamel sauce and simmer a few minutes while you make toast.  Ladle the mixture over slices of toast and enjoy.

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Posted
1 hour ago, Lindal Kidd said:

Leave out the nutmeg, though.

91ec757e36f04093f5f41fc6b26fc8b43fc3a160

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Posted

I've never heard of this as an actual thing, but my mum used to make something similar, always with cheese (and garlic but no nutmeg). She would usually serve it at supper on a Sunday, with ham or whatever was left over from the lunchtime roast. I kinda took it over when I left home, I usually make it with butter and some mature cheddar. I don't eat meat any more but I usually have it with some kind of veg; cauliflower or broccoli, or just on its own if I'm feeling lazy.

Posted (edited)
7 hours ago, Orwar said:

Swedish meatballs, but that's life for a non-Swede, I guess). You could make your own meatballs, of course, to ensure the quality - but then home made meatballs should always be served with potatoes, brown sauce, lingonberry jam, and pickles. Ordnung muss sein. No exceptions. It's in the law, probably. 

I always made my family 100% meat meatballs because mostly I hate meatballs but especially the stuff that's put into the meatballs, like breadcrumbs...so it's 100% meatballs for me, carmelized of course so they are a bit crisp on the outside but so juicy on the inside.

I'm not a big macaroni or pasta person either unless it's the fresh kind.  

And, for sausage...I do like polish sausage but I'm not a big sausage person.  Sausage isn't as big in America as I've heard it is in Europe.  Polish is mostly the kind I've had.  

But, I had a laugh at the above about the meatballs.  And, it does sound good with jam and pickles.  I think my half Polish heritage has me loving "sour" things.  I love pickles.  Are they dill or what?  I love tart sour things...hmmmmmm...maybe sauerkraut and meatballs would be good.    

Edited by FairreLilette
Posted
8 hours ago, Orwar said:

home made meatballs should always be served with potatoes, brown sauce, lingonberry jam, and pickles.

that's it... I'm going to Ikea. 

Posted

I assume milk-stewed pasta was an American / Canadian thing. 

Doesn't sound that bad compared to what we English had to suffer.  Stewed fatty beef, boiled potatoes and boiled cabbage and not allowed to leave the table until it had all gone..

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