USA! USA! USA!

2011 was the year I finally gave up trying to be fancy and accepted that the best cheese for a cheeseburger was good ol' American cheese. Who did I think I was impressing with Cheddar? Who the fuck did I think I was all those years, a Kennedy? - XMASTIME

I'm ashamed how long it took me to finally come around once & for all, but at least now I have the rest of the world finally catching up as well to use as a salve on my old wound: 

You think you want a cheese with pedigree. The kind that reeks of washed rinds, that crunches with tyrosine crystals, that bears the name of a tiny European village in delicate, old-world type. But what you actually want — what your body, your cravings, your Fourth of July grill night wants — is ooze.

Ooze like only American cheese can provide. And yes, I mean that American cheese: the creamy, melty, ultra-processed stuff you grew up with and now pretend to be above.

It’s easy to write off American cheese as a relic of the processed-food age — a square of edible nostalgia, maybe, but not a serious ingredient. But lately, it’s been showing up in surprising places. Not just on backyard burgers, but in Michelin-starred kitchens, recipe test labs and the boardrooms of companies trying to give it a glow-up.