In response to my post on Welsh Rarebit (1/7/09), Janet Harris sent a delightful piece on Cheez Whiz. It's too good not to share.
Cheez Whiz: The
Rarebit of Plebeians
Before microwaves, melting cheese over foods usually meant
someone had to shred it first.
Making a cheese sauce for a fancy vegetable dish was also a delicate
process, involving scalding and the ever-present danger of lumpiness. So it’s no wonder that cooks in
the1950s went crazy for Cheez Whiz.
In the summer of 1953, Cheez Whiz joined Kraft’s large line
of products designed to make a cheese as friendly, approachable, and easy to
choose as a loaf of bread. Instead
of trying to figure out the difference between Fontina and Brie, the consumer
of Kraft cheeses had only to decide whether she wants her cheese sliced, in an
aerosol can, in a loaf or, as is in the case with Cheez Whiz, as a cheesy sauce
in a jar. Kraft’s loaf form of
processed cheese, Velveeta, had helped pave the way for the acceptance of Cheez
Whiz more than 20 years earlier.
An extensive series of tests conducted at Rutgers University concluded
that processed cheese food such as Velveeta was every bit as digestible and
nutritious as milk. To measure
“the ability of Velveeeta to supprt muscular work,” test subjects were made to
ride a stationary bicycle with a huge metal bucket, called a respiration
helmet, over their heads.
“Project Cheez Whiz” as it was called in the Kraft company
newsletter, “The Kraftsman,” began in 1951 and lasted for 18 months. Laboratory men at Kraft originally were
aiming at the cheese rarebit trade.
Realizing that most Americans didn’t even know what rarebit was (never
mind want some), Kraft sales and advertising men asked for an all-purpose
cheese sauce instead. Many
purposes Cheez Whiz certainly could have: in a survey conducted just before the
product was released, housewives suggested more than 1,304 uses. Some of the most popular including
spooning it over vegetables and casseroles, making macaroni and cheese, and
turning hot dogs into cheese dogs, and hamburgers into cheeseburgers. In fact, Louis’ Lunch in New Haven,
Connecticut, an establishment National Public Radio’s “all Things Considered”
program once identified as making one of the best hamburgers in America (and
others claim is the actual birthplace of the hamburger), makes them with
freshly ground beef, toasted Pepperidge Farm white bread and Cheez Whiz.
The invention of the microwave has rendered Cheez Whiz less
gee-whiz impressive. In a pinch it
is now possible to simply nuke some Velveeta into a cheese sauce. But those raised on Cheez Whiz and fans
of the product in Puerto Rico (the Cheez Whiz sales capital of the world due
largely to the popularity of La Mexda, a dish combining Cheez Whiz, mayonnaise
and Spam) would probably not go for this.
For them, only that mixture of cheese, water, whey, sodium phosphate, milk
fat, skim milk, salt Worcestershire sauce, mustard flour, lactic and sorbic
acid, and coloring would do.”
Taken from I’m A Spam Fan by Carolyn Wyman, 1993 Longmeadow Press, Stamford, CT, page 124.
I remember Cheez Whiz from my first round of graduate school. We really were poor students and we didn't have a refrigerator. So we would keep it on the ledge outside the window in the winter. There were usually several evenings a month when Cheez Whiz on crackers served as supper. You won't hear me whining about the good old days.
