I had six of them hidden in my luggage under the bed. Mailed from the US to Germany, these 6 boxes of gold were a secret I would not share.
Perhaps ‘boxes of gold’ sounds over-the-top, but they were truly precious. And anyway, the neon orange packet glowed fluorescent when I sprinkled it over the elbow macaroni.
“Kraft” in German translates to strength, and Kraft Mac & Cheese was aptly named during my year in Germany. The comforting creamy carbs and obviously processed boxed meal soothed my homesickness and gave me the strength to go without all other American food for 12 months.
I nursed those six boxes for months, making half a box at a time and only when I was home alone. That way, conventions of politeness wouldn’t force me to share.
Now that I’m living in the US, I never eat boxed mac & cheese (except at my Nostalgia Dinners, of course). I’m never more than 90 cents and a 2 minute walk to Target from having a box all to myself, but it just never occurs to me to eat it. Now that I have more than enough American food, the Mac & Cheese is superfluous.
Naturally, these days I spend my time dreaming about freshly baked German rolls instead.