Fact — I have been eating the same family recipes since I was a kid, and I say that with pride. I am a creature of habit, comfort, and anything that shows up in a vintage Pyrex dish at a group gathering.

Our holiday tables are less “menu” and more “greatest hits album.” You do not mess with tradition. You honor it. You heap it onto your plate in generous, questionably balanced portions.

Most recently, this Easter, I was already on my second helping of my Auntie Margarita’s infamous pasta said, when she casually asked if I was enjoying her “Mackie-roni salad.”

I stopped mid-bite. “What did you just say, gurl?”

Calm as ever, my auntie replied: “My famous Mackie-roni salad.”

Excuse me?

I have eaten this dish my entire life and somehow never clocked that it’s a pun with my name in it. Decades of devotion, and I missed the branding opportunity. I am equal parts offended and impressed.

After I posted about it, the overwhelming demand for the recipe was immediate and aggressive. People were texting. Calling. Social media was abuzz. I assume a carrier pigeon is still en route.

So, here it is. The legend. The legacy. My Auntie Margarita’s Mackie-roni salad recipe:

Mackie-roni Salad

1 box small pasta shells
2 bunches green onions, chopped
1 large jar green olives with pimento, sliced
1 to 2 green peppers, chopped
1 medium box Velveeta, cubed small
1 large bottle Dorothy Lynch dressing

Cook shells, drain, and while still warm, stir in cheese so it melts slightly. Add onions, peppers, and drained olives. Mix well. Add at least half the bottle of dressing and stir until coated. Chill for several hours or overnight.

Make it. Serve it. And try not to miss the pun for 30 years like I did. You’re welcome.

(And if you don’t invite me over, you’re dead to me.)