Mac and Cheese: The perfect drug

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Summer Wildcat Ryan Chirnomas

Here's a riddle: I'm a loyal and frequent customer to the Phillip Morris Company, but I'm not buying cigarettes. I'm an addict, but I'm not a smoker. What am I?

Answer: A Mac and Cheese junkie.

Yes, I'm an addict. I admit it. That is the first step in rehab isn't it? I live off the stuff, and will most likely die as a direct result of it. Like any good junkie, I'm eternally loyal to my pusher, in this case, Kraft Foods. It is important to note that Kraft is entirely owned by Phillip Morris, the big, bad tobacco boys from down south. So it's no surprise that I'm helplessly addicted.

First, a bit of history. Despite popular belief, Macaroni and Cheese was created on the Sixth Day by God Himself. Tragically, this holy grail of foodstuffs was lost during The Flood.

Fortunately for college students and others below the poverty line, Mac and Cheese was rediscovered by Kraft during the Great Depression. Some time later (Internet sources are a bit sketchy on this), Phillip Morris took over Kraft. The recipe of our favorite food was not changed, a la 'New Coke,' but slightly modified. An addictive chemical was added to the food, as an experiment for the company's upcoming sinister plans for cigarettes. The experiment worked, and millions were forever hooked. When American society turned against tobacco, Phillip Morris decided to phase in the addictive element to replace slipping domestic profits.

To conquer any addiction, it is imperative to understand the nature of the beast. In other words, what is it about Kraft Macaroni and Cheese that has a stranglehold on me? It certainly is not the color of the cuisine that is to blame for my fixation. By any logical explanation, I should be totally repulsed by its bright orange, Three Mile Island-esque coloration. Really, who wants to eat something the hue of those big cones used at road construction sites?

Perhaps then it is Mac and Cheese's delicious ingredients that add up to make this delicious diet so addictive. Milk and margarine are fine enough I suppose, but nothing special. I'm not addicted to those items, or at least not directly. Pasta is pasta, no big deal. That leaves only one ingredient: the powdered cheese. Again, I should be disgusted by this artificial "cheese," and the fact that it is more apt for consumption on the space shuttle than anywhere else. But this must be the secret addictive ingredient. How convenient that Kraft now sells this "cheese" individually, grated up and packaged so that it resembles its Parmesan cheese containers. Now you can add it to salads, mashed potatoes, and other once-healthy foods. The company's grip on American society is tightened with each shake of the blue and orange cylindrical canister.

But my willpower is generally strong enough to resist the temptation and power of things that aren't good for me. So there must be something more. We all know and love the taste of Macaroni and Cheese, that is, with the exception of one certain deprived and misguided soul. (You know who you are!) The taste must be the addictive factor. What else would keep millions of people coming back to a food with the nutritional equivalent of a vat of lard? When prepared properly, it tastes so damn good that you would kill your own mother just for one more delicious, mouth-watering bite. Just kidding, Mom.

Well, as you can see, I am a bit obsessed. And that's all right. I'll just sit here, eating my Macaroni and Cheese until I either have massive heart attack or the Betty Ford Clinic opens up a Mac and Cheese ward - whichever comes first.

Ryan Chirnomas is a molecular and cellular biology junior.