Let Me Tell You About the Best (and Cheesiest) Weeknight Dinner I Make

Okay, so hear me out first—I’ve been tinkering with mac and cheese recipes for ages (you should see my old notebook, it’s got more cheese stains than actual words). But Truffle Cheese Mac and Cheese? This is the version I come crawling back to, no matter how many new things I try. My sister says it’s the only reason she visits on Mondays, and honestly, I can’t blame her. The truffle makes it feel all fancy, but really, this is just me wanting something comforting that acts like it belongs at a snazzy dinner, too. Oh, and bonus: the leftovers are dangerous (in the best way possible)—unless someone else gets to them first. Story of my fridge, really.

Why I Think You’ll Love Making This

I make this when I want to show off but also don’t want to spend eighteen hours in the kitchen. My family goes wild for it because, apparently, “regular” mac and cheese just doesn’t cut it anymore (I may have spoiled them a bit…). When I finally caved and put more truffle cheese than the recipe calls for, that’s when my picky brother even started asking for seconds. Not gonna lie, making the roux used to really bug me—more lumps, more problems—but after a few kitchen disasters (let’s not even talk about that one time with the burned milk), I’ve mastered it. Or, at least, I’m not lighting anything on fire anymore, so I’ll call that a win.

Here’s What You’ll Need (and What I Swap When I’m Out of Something)

400g (or, you know, just shy of a pound) elbow macaroni (sometimes I use cavatappi if that’s all that’s left in the pantry)
2 cups whole milk – though once I made do with 1 cup half-and-half and a splash of water; didn’t notice much difference, honestly
2 tbsp unsalted butter (my grandmother always insisted on Kerrygold, but store brand is fine)
2 tbsp all-purpose flour
200g truffle cheese, grated – or you can go half-and-half with sharp cheddar and just a bit of truffle oil if you’re desperate
50g Parmesan, grated (sometimes a wee bit extra finds its way in… oops)
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1/2 tsp sea salt (taste this at the end, because cheeses can be super salty or not at all)
1 tsp Dijon mustard (this one’s optional, but it does liven up the sauce)
For the topping: 1 cup breadcrumbs (panko if you feel like impressing someone) and a drizzle of olive oil

How I Actually Make This Truffle Cheese Mac

Boil the pasta. Bring a big pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add the pasta and cook till just al dente. (I always taste a piece two minutes before the box says it’s done—old habit from my mum.) Drain, but don’t rinse—you’re going to want a little of that starch sticking around.
Start the roux. In a big saucepan (or, when I’m rushing, just the same pot as the pasta), melt the butter on medium-low. Sprinkle flour over it—whisk like your dinner depends on it, because it kinda does. Stir for about 2 minutes, getting rid of the raw flour taste (it usually smells nutty when it’s ready).
Make it saucy. Slowly pour in the milk, whisking as you go so it doesn’t lump up (don’t panic if it looks weird at first, it always comes together). Keep stirring until it thickens—a few minutes or so. This is where I, uh, usually sneak a taste just to be sure I haven’t messed it up.
Cheese time. Take it off the heat and add truffle cheese and half the Parmesan, plus mustard if using. Stir until melted and smooth. If it seems too thick, add a splash more milk. Season with pepper and salt to taste—honestly, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been heavy-handed so, better to go slow here.
Pasta meets cheese sauce. Dump the pasta in (I sometimes use my hands for this, don’t judge), mix thoroughly. Pour everything into a baking dish.
Topping magic. Toss the breadcrumbs with olive oil and remaining Parmesan. Scatter it on top. (Sometimes, if I’m feeling fancy, a little sprinkle of chopped parsley.)
Bake. Into a preheated oven (180°C/350°F) for about 20 minutes, or until the top’s golden and bubbling. The house will start to smell ridiculous in the best way. Let it cool a minute because molten cheese burns are a real thing.

The Notes I Wrote in the Margin

If your sauce is clumpy, a quick whisk with a fork usually rescues it. I know, sounds strange, but it works.
Actually, I find it works better if you let it sit for five minutes after baking before serving—otherwise it’s soupier than it ought to be.
Don’t stress if you can’t find truffle cheese, just use good cheddar and a splash of truffle oil. Not quite the same but darn close.
For some reason, white pepper just doesn’t do it for me here, but some folks swear by it.

The Twists and Turns I’ve Tried (Yes, Even the Odd One)

Once, I threw in crispy bacon bits—my nephew liked it, my vegetarian aunt did not.
Broccoli bits stirred in before baking, for the illusion of health. Not bad at all.
I thought adding a drizzle of hot sauce swirl on top would be brilliant. It was… not. At least for this recipe. Maybe save it for chili night?
If I’m feeling super indulgent, a dollop of mascarpone stirred in with the cheese. Wow. Just wow.

If You Don’t Have the Right Equipment…

I say you need a big saucepan and a baking dish—but honestly, I’ve used a deep frying pan and an oven-safe mixing bowl in a pinch. Just watch for overflow (learned that one, the hard way…)

How I Store (Or, Hide) the Leftovers

Pop any leftovers into a lidded container, straight into the fridge. It’ll keep for about 3 days—but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! Oh, and when you reheat: add a splash of milk, cover with foil, and bake low and slow so it doesn’t dry out. Microwave works, but the sauce gets a bit weird (still tasty though).

How We Serve This at Home

Usually I just plop it straight onto plates and let everyone fend for themselves; but if it’s Sunday, we might make a fresh green salad to go alongside. My cousin dips his mac in ketchup—no judgment, but I stick to extra grated cheese on top. And sometimes I consider serving it with soup, then just can’t be bothered.

What I Wish I’d Known (Pro Tips Form Real-Life Oopsies)

I once tried rushing the baking step at a higher temp. Regretted it because the top got crispy but inside was just hot cheese soup. Patience is key here.
If you forget the butter/flour roux, tossing cheese straight in warm milk forms a greasy mess. Trust me… one time was enough.
Letting the pasta cool too much before mixing makes things gluey. Best to go from draining straight into the sauce.

People Actually Ask Me These, So Here Goes (FAQ)

Can I use gluten-free pasta? Yep, I’ve done it! Just keep an eye on the texture, some GF brands cook faster—and, fair warning, the sauce clings a bit differently.
What exactly is truffle cheese anyway? Great question! It’s usually a semi-soft cheese (like cheddar or gouda) blended with bits of black or white truffle; if you want to read up, The Cheese Lover gives a solid breakdown.
Can I skip the bake step? Actually, sometimes I just combine sauce and pasta, sprinkle cheese, and dig in—no baking—if I’m starving. The topping is worth it though.
Any make-ahead tips? Sure! Assemble, cover, and refrigerate up to a day before. Pull from the fridge, top, and bake when ready. (Recipe link for inspiration: Love & Lemons mac & cheese)
Is this as good the next day? I tend to think the flavors get even better—but maybe that’s just me, so it’s worth a try if you get lucky enough to have leftovers!

Oh—Random Tangent

One night, I totally forgot to buy milk, so I nicked a splash of my roommate’s oat milk (she still doesn’t know). Mac and cheese turned out surprisingly creamy, and no one guessed the difference. Gives you hope, right?

Now, if you’re looking for more cheesy inspiration, Serious Eats has a pile of mac and cheese variations.

Truffle Cheese Mac and Cheese Recipe