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If you claim to never eat cheese this way I'd have serious doubts you are human.
OK, a fun Velveeta story:
Picture it...summer research field camp in the Aleutian Islands. Living in tents, hauling water on our backs from a creek 1/4 mile away. All groceries and supplies flown out in a 5-seater Cessna once or twice a month from base 300 miles away. Communications with the world were shouted over static-snarled short wave radio. Our office research coordinator was very skilled at sourcing and sending out a decent variety of edibles and occasional surprises (one time ice cream showed up so we immediately dropped everything to sit down and clear out the container....it was melting so we decided to put it out of it's misery). The weather usually had a say in how quickly fresh food actually arrived. Cooking options consisted of a cheapo camping grill balanced on rocks around a pit in the dirt or a propane Coleman camp stove.
Next picture...Once, our expected brick of Tillamook sharp cheddar couldn't be found in town, so the field coordinator sent us a large hunk of Velveeta with Jalapeno pepper instead. We of course turned up our noses at this so it ruminated in the swampy bottom of a camp cooler. The weather had been particularly contrary for the past month. It was either bad on the shipper's end or on our end so the flights kept getting cancelled. Then the plane had a series of mechanical problems.
The kitchen tent shelves were looking bare by now, everything fresh was long gone, but the salmon were running in the creek, so we did have something solid. That Velveeta chunk was still lurking in the cooler. Mind you, those salmon were a long long way from the ocean and were on their last "legs"; garish spawning color, patchy skin, ragged tails, listless and no interest in lures. As our hunger grew we started chasing them into a pool and knocking them on the head with sticks, trimming off the sketchy bits, and roasting them hard on the grill. At least we had an assortment of condiments to mask the taste and texture.
Then a grizzly stepped on the camping grill and chewed it up for good measure. Spawned out salmon tastes even worse boiled by propane. Caribou started migrating through and we watched those steaks on the hoof with more than scientific interest. However, there were no trees large enough to hang the meat out of reach of the local bears, wolves, or wolverines so that didn't seem like a great idea. There were 4 of us...hungry as we were, no one could eat one quarter of a caribou at one sitting. The local ptarmigan that hung around camp were not quite tame enough to grab, but their status as friends was still higher than their rank as protein at that point. Yes, the Velveeta hunk was still marinating in the cooler. We mapped and flagged every duck nest we stumbled on, not willing to steal the eggs until we felt the hen had truly abandoned them. We tried to justify "harvesting" them by blowing the contents out through pin holes and preserving the shells for heavy metal analysis. Sea duck eggs tend to be a little larger than dabbling duck eggs though with somewhat fishy notes. Thank the gods for garlic salt.
Next picture: Down to one last can of tuna, some canned mackerel used to bait predator scent stations, some sketchy-colored Pilot Bread crackers, and the brilliant orange plastic pepper material. You know what they say about hunger being the sauce? We discovered an epicurean delight that day. Melted jalapeno Velveeta dribbled over tuna or mackerel smashed on stale Pilot Bread. We couldn't get enough of it. Wrote down the most successful variations in our field journal and the next time we had radio contact with base actually begged for more.
Once we heard that the plane was actually on approach to camp we decided to voice our opinion with meal service. We'd found a caribou skeleton with intact ribcage, so gathered up the bones, arranged them inside some old raingear and a wool hat, laid an empty soup can in one "hand" and positioned it in the middle of the dirt airstrip. Maybe we were teetering on the edge of malnutrition, but we thought it was a wonderful joke.
The pilot was not amused.
Last edited by Parnassia; 06-18-2018 at 02:48 PM..
I'm lazy and each cheese by the slice, or the pre-shredded stuff. I do on occasion get it by the block (e.g. brie/Camembert). I do shredded because even though I've had roommates who swear shredded cheese that comes from the blocks is the way to go, it's such a huge hassle to clean the grater.
I like to get a block of sharp cheddar cheese (say about 4 oz. at a time, cutting an 8 oz. block in half) and eat it straight. I cut pieces off of the cheese with a knife than eat them. I can't do it with mild cheddar, too bland. Does anyone else do this?
I live in Wisconsin. Our houses, furniture, vehicles, pets, roads, and sidewalks are made of cheese.
I've had the breaded and fried squeaky little bites of cheese curds from Wisconsin - they are sublime.
We're over here in the other cheese state, California, and can relate to everything being made from cheese. Not complaining!
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