My mom taught me the art of making the perfect, golden bread filled with the generous amount of cheese that makes the sandwich what it is. One night, my brother Connor, who was four at the time, was recovering from a stomach bug. All he wanted to eat was a grilled cheese sandwich, his favorite food. There was only one problem, we were out of …show more content…
I filled a pot with water just as Connor walked into the kitchen curious to see what all the noise was about. He noticed I was not just re-heating left overs and sped out of the kitchen to get his chef hat and step-stool. He helped me pour shell pasta noodles skillfully into the bubbling water, prepared the slices of bread with butter on one side, and even sprayed the cooking grease into the skillet just like I had done with my mom at his age. After I mixed the cheese sauce into the pasta, Connor asked me why I had made macaroni and cheese. I told him I was making a special grilled cheese sandwich just for him. I placed the buttery bread into the warm pan and waited while an orchestra of sizzles and pops filled the air. I piled the macaroni and cheese high onto the bread in the pan, topped it with the second piece of bread and placed the lid on top. A few minutes later, I was left with the Holy Grail