There’s something about Sunday dinner that can’t be replicated. Why? Because if you were like me and lucky enough to have memories of this culinary experience growing up, then you know it’s not just about the food; it’s about the ritual. Among other things, that one constant provided an unspoken agreement that no matter how hectic the week had been for us, we’d gather around the table, exhale the stresses of the week, and dig into pure comfort.
For some families, that table still holds the classics: brisket smoked overnight until it practically melts, pot roast lovingly nestled alongside baby potatoes and carrots, or a casserole that feeds a crowd with leftovers for later in the week. For others, it’s green chile stew ladled into bowls and topped with grated cheese, Grandma’s beans and cornbread, or fried okra snapped straight from the garden. These dishes aren’t fancy; they’re anchors cast by past generations.
If you grew up in a home where cooking was a language of love, then you likely remember the Sunday dinners of your childhood. Mine were the clichéd pot roast with gravy, enormous bowls of chili with cornbread, and sometimes even breakfast for dinner with pancakes stacked high, mounds of bacon, and eggs scrambled just right. Those meals may not have been elaborate, but they stuck with me.
And thank goodness Sunday dinners were always heavy. For me, they felt like a big, warm hug that carried us into the next week. With Monday and the week’s work looming, Sunday became a scheduled opportunity to treat myself with food that stuck to my ribs and soul.
Surprisingly, I have found that Sunday dinner evolves as the years go by. You’ll find families pulling up to El Bracero for fajitas and enchiladas, grabbing takeout at their favorite pho spot to slurp at home, or making a tradition of going for sushi instead of cooking at home. Our city’s food scene has widened, and so has the definition of “home cooking.” What hasn’t changed is the spirit of food being a reason to gather. It’s my pause button after wrapping up a busy workweek.
If you’re looking for your own version of Sunday dinner this week, Amarillo has no shortage of options. Maybe it’s the incredible chicken-fried steak at Green Chile Willy’s, a piping hot plate of enchiladas at El Bracero’s on Sixth (can you tell I’m a fan?), or something bubbling in your own oven. My advice? Don’t overthink it. Invite people over, set the table, and let the food—whatever form it takes—do the work of uniting you.
Because Sunday dinner has never really been about what’s served. It’s about who’s sitting around your table.
And if you’re in the mood to cook, I’ve got just the thing. My Green Chile Mac and Cheese is creamy and exactly the kind of comfort food that deserves a permanent spot on the Sunday table.
Green Chile Mac and Cheese
1 pound cavatappi or elbow macaroni pasta
1 cup whole milk
2 (12-ounce) cans evaporated milk
3 eggs
2 sticks butter, cut into small pieces
1 pound Colby cheese, shredded
1 pound Velveeta, cut into small chunks
1 (27-ounce) can diced green chiles, undrained
Salt to taste
1 cup mild cheddar cheese, shredded
Toasted bread crumbs (optional)
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Bring large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package instructions. Drain pasta and add it to a 9- by 13-inch baking dish. Set aside.
In large mixing bowl, combine milk, evaporated milk and eggs. Whisk together until fully incorporated. Add butter, Colby and Velveeta, and green chiles to pasta.
Pour egg and milk mixture over pasta. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle mild cheddar cheese over the top and bake, covered with foil, for 30 to 45 minutes.
Remove the foil during the last 10 minutes of baking, sprinkle bread crumbs on top and lightly toast. Let rest for 10 minutes, then serve.
Serves 10 to 12
