Natasha scooped the pearly white sauce with a spoon, and tasted it. Her eyes narrowed. “It’s like…” she said, “it’s like… crème de la crème.”
That sounds nice, I thought. That did sound nice, but I never heard of a cheese sauce being described in that way.
Beth gave it a taste. “Wow! This is decadent,” she said.
“Not only that, but it’s sweet. That’s probably because of all the butter and cheese we added,” Said Natasha.
As for me, I never thought of butter and cheese as ever being sweet. Maybe Natasha wasn’t saying that the sauce was literally sweet. Maybe ‘sweet’ was just another way of describing food as ‘rich’.
I spooned some of the nearly translucent, shiny sauce, and licked it from the spoon. It tingled my taste buds with an unexpected flavour of cheesecake, only sweeter. They were not kidding. I wrinkled my nose. Something wasn’t right.
“It tastes like a dessert,” I said.
Natasha tried to convince me that cheese and butter can make food taste sweet, but I didn’t buy that.
“Maybe we made sugar,” I said.
I wondered if the flour in the sauce broke down into sugar, but Natasha reminded me that the flour wasn’t cooked enough to do that.
Beth went to the pantry as she carried the flour, and opened it. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we used icing sugar instead of flour?” she said.
We all chuckled at the thought. It would have been funny.
Right after my sister put the container into the pantry and closed the door, she opened it again, and took a good look inside. The sugar was sitting to the right of the container we used, and sitting to container’s left was none other then a fat paper bag of flour.
“You know what?” she said, “I think we really did use icing sugar!”
There was a moment of silence – a moment that neared a sense of disbelief before we burst into laughter!
I was going to throw it out, but Beth told me not to. We went though with the project, and added the sauce to the Macaroni, diced up the bell peppers, and decorated it before we popped it into the oven. For Canada’s 150th birthday, we had a casserole that looked like a Canadian flag and was made with sugar-glazed macaroni at our mom and dad’s house. It was a good thing that my mom prepared real food. We all enjoyed eating that bizarre casserole – not because it tasted really good, but because it tasted like something to remember.