As a self-proclaimed lover of cheese from Wisconsin, I feel terribly guilty admitted how much I enjoy processed cheese from time to time. While it is by no means a staple of my diet, the occasional soft pretzel dipped in wonderfully nacho cheese just hits. the. spot. Am I right or am I right?
But WHY? If given the choice I would much rather have an aged gouda or white cheddar, paired with some fresh fruit or baked in phyllo dough. Yum. But yet, every now and again the cheesy goo of my childhood calls my name. Maybe it’s the smell of baseball. Or maybe just the memories of my first job in a concession stand. Whatever it is, I will not be ashamed of my crush on good-old, terrible-for-you, hot-and-sassy processed cheese.