It’s one of those dishes that will never disappear from the American landscape — and for a good reason. Macaroni and cheese bubbles over with sentiment for most people, reminding us of Mom’s kitchen, the school cafeteria and those little aluminum compartments in TV dinners that we loved so much.

Some believe the recipe was concocted by founding father Thomas Jefferson, who reportedly served the dish in the White House around 1802. Other food historians claim the combination of noodles and cheese dates back to ancient Rome and Greece. Yet whatever its origin, the dish was already old hat by the time Kraft Foods boxed it up in 1937 for easy mass consumption.

Jim Hennum of Hillcrest, however, settles only for his mother’s oven-baked recipe and says of Kraft’s bright-orange permutation: “It is only to be eaten if you are on your death bed and don’t have the energy to make the real thing.”

At a recent sit-down dinner party he threw for 20 friends, Hennum decked out his clubhouse with a table setting that seemed more fitting for coq au vin than mac and cheese. The dish was served as a main entrée under candlelight with professional floral arrangements nearby. He said it was a way of thanking those who had supported him after his HIV test came back positive.

“Most people haven’t eaten the kind of macaroni and cheese that I make. Everyone really raved about it,” he said.

Hennum’s recipe is unique because the cheddar cheese is hand-grated rather than cut into cubes like most other recipes suggest. The latter method, he said, provides only tiny bursts of intense cheese flavor with too many bites in between that are “just macaroni and white sauce.” The golden-brown crust he achieves is also foolproof, thanks to a mantle of plain breadcrumbs he applies over the top before popping the dish into the oven.

Additionally, stewed tomatoes and Pillsbury Pop n’ Fresh biscuits are served on the side — childhood accompaniments that he says compliment the dish perfectly and kept his New Jersey Catholic household free of meat on Fridays.

Creating a smooth white sauce, he notes, is the key to success. It serves as a flavor conduit for the cheese, but can be tricky to make when trying it for the first time. Milk and flour are first “shaken” in a lidded container before being added to the melted butter. Extra milk is then poured into the sauce over a medium heat to round out the consistency. But cook it too long and “you end up with Elmer’s Glue,” he warns.

The final assembly step involves layering the cooked macaroni, sauce and grated cheese into a casserole dish, but always with a sprinkling of salt between each layer. Hennum prefers whipping up large batches of the recipe, which he then cuts up into serving sizes for the freezer. “I make it at least once a month. But if my budget is tight, then there’s a lot more macaroni and cheese in the house!” Below is the recipe that Hennum calls “home.”

(serves 10)

1 1/2 boxes of Creamette elbow macaroni

1 pound of extra sharp cheddar cheese (grated)

3 cups of whole or skim milk

1/4 cup of all-purpose flour

1/2 to 3/4 cup plain bread crumbs

1 cup of butter

salt to taste

A dash of pepper

Boil macaroni until cooked, drain and rinse with cold water. Melt butter in saucepan. Add 1 1/2 cups of milk and the flour into a lidded container and shake to incorporate. Pour into the melted butter and begin stirring with a whisk over medium heat. As liquid starts to thicken, slowly incorporate the remainder of the milk until smooth (approximately 10-15 minutes). Add pepper. In a greased four-quart casserole dish, add a single layer of macaroni, sprinkle with salt, then cover with cheese and white sauce. Repeat until reaching 1/2 inch from the top of the dish, ending with a top layer of white sauce. Sprinkle breadcrumbs uniformly over the top, completely covering the white sauce. Bake in a preheated 400-degree oven for 30-40 minutes until golden brown. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.