The Devil's cream cheese: Vintage Velveeta recipes

Apple cobbler and fudge recipes that no one asked for

Most people think Velveeta is for American-style queso**, and queso only, but there are many, many ostensibly unironic recipes using this, the Devil’s cream cheese, especially retro ones. I totally understand the mid-last-century obsession — it’s cheaper, shelf-stable, and a cheese sauce all by itself, with no grating, no roux, and no separating. If you use it for anything in your kitchen now, it’s almost certainly in a hotdish, casserole, or pasta sauce.

But today, I have for you a couple of real doozies passed along by friends. One is for VELVEETA FUDGE, which comes to you from Denise of Circus Peanut Salad infamy. It apparently originated from an Ohio community cookbook (I know it’s also in at least one 80s cookbook, but I don’t have a copy), and it reportedly makes a chocolate fudge, so thankfully it’s not expected to be as orange as Denise’s last heresy entry, but I can’t say I expect it to be much better, either. I enjoy how it says “no cook” and then gives you instructions on how to cook it.

To be fair, what they mean is that you only have to melt it, rather than boil carefully to a certain temperature to convert the sugar to the soft ball stage. And it’s a literal winner in a real contest from Lord only knows what year, so…maybe it’s good?

Not to be outdone, our mutual friend Jen sent me this one, from another friend of hers, for an apple and Velveeta…thing…of uncertain provenance. If anyone knows this cookbook, feel free to let me know, assuming you feel you can admit it publicly.

It reminds me of Southern Pineapple Casserole, and I did find a few Southern apple casserole recipes with fresh apples and real cheddar in them — it’s A Thing, I promise — but this one is like the fully automated uncanny valley version of that. Looking at the ingredients, and their ratios that look like a much higher flour-to-oil ratio than sauce but a lot lower than a crumble topping, it’s hard to imagine what the final texture will be. Cobbler? Casserole? Goop? There’s only one way to find out.

Jen tells me that she laughed at her friend for making it, and then asked for the recipe after trying it, so I’m going to keep an open mind.

But first, the fudge. I am only going to make a quarter of this ginormous recipe for obvious reasons. It still makes about 1 1/2 lbs of fudge.

It is relatively easy compared to most fudge recipes. You just melt the Velveeta (*cringe*) with the butter, mix the powdered sugar with cocoa and nuts, and then combine. I am very, very concerned about how curd-y it looks, but I whisked and whisked, and this is as good as it gets.

After kneading it, I am cautiously optimistic…until the smell hits me. It’s like I’m making cocoa next to someone making blue box mac. Seriously cheesy. Like, yikes level. But, I pressed it into the pan by pressing an identical pan on top with some parchment in between, and it looks kinda okay? There’s an oily sheen I don’t love, but the instructions say to chill, and once the butter re-solidifies, it should calm down at least in terms of appearance.

Now to the, um, cobblerole. It’s another easy recipe — just dump a can of apple pie filling into a greased casserole, and then mix everything else for the topping. But, how do you mix? Most recipes would tell you to cream the butter and sugar, or cut the butter into the flour until it resembles fine crumbs. These instructions are critical for the final texture, because they add air bubbles, or they coat the flour to reduce gluten formation. This just says…mix. So that’s what I did. It seemed impossible, but a pastry blender worked fine, and honestly the Velveeta (*cringe*) seemed to have an odd effect on the butter, helping it incorporate relatively easily.

It had the texture of spackle, though. I had to sort of glom it on top of the apples for baking. This is what it looks like after baking.

Or rather, after I spent five minutes dabbing floating pools of butter off the top. I also texted Jen to see whether this is what it’s supposed to look like, because it’s not as I hoped, although it is as I feared.

The answer? “Yup.” Okay then. Let’s taste these absolute monsters.

First, the fudge.

It’s gorgeous, right? The oily shimmer is no more, and it slices like a dream straight out of the fridge. It does not smell like Kraft Mac anymore. And the flavor? I’m shocked to report it’s delicious. It’s a tad saltier than the usual recipe, but I actually like that. It’s not too sweet compared to other fudge recipes. And, because it uses powdered sugar instead of converting granulated to the soft ball stage, there’s no worry that it will come out runny, tough or grainy. I’ll bet this recipe is just about foolproof. You could even make it in the microwave instead of a double boiler, but if you do that, go in very short increments, perhaps 15 seconds. If the Velveeta cooks in a hot spot, you’ll have cursed toffee.

Honestly, you could give this as a gift and no one would know. I think it tastes best right out of the fridge, but the instructions say to store at room temp.

Now, the cobblerole. Cassabobble. Thing.

Ugh. I hate it. The middle is goopy. Canned pie filling is somehow not super mushy, but it doesn’t have much flavor. There’s no tartness. The edges are crispy but too sweet (see above, “cursed toffee”). Still, there is a germ of an idea here, and I don’t hate that. I’ve had the pineapple version, but after tasting this, I’ll bet the original Southern apple and cheddar casseroles are good, too.

To be fair, my son kind of liked it. My husband refused to taste it, though, so it’s batting .333. Still, if you look at it that way, it’s ready to be drafted into the Major Leagues.

They can have it.

*RD notes: Velveeta is not a health food. It’s higher in sodium and lower in protein and calcium than real cheese. Still, if you will eat broccoli when it’s on there, or if it helps you get a home-cooked dinner on the table instead of takeout again? It’s probably a win. There is a low-fat version that might be right for some people, but I feel the flavor is pretty one-note — mostly salt, not enough cheesy funk. No deals with any brands shown or mentioned here; I bought everything myself, alas.

**If you thought up to this point that the queso we serve on game day here was Mexican in origin, you might be wondering what the real Mexican queso is like. Pati Jinich has a great write up of Queso Fundido here. Relatively little Velveeta is sold in Mexico, although of course a lot Americans of Latin descent eat it all the time here, and it’s heavily represented in Tex-Mex cuisine.

According to the Smithsonian, a product bearing the name Velveeta was created by a Swiss immigrant about 100 years ago, as a way to use up end bits leftover in cheese manufacture, but Kraft says they bought the rights to the name and not the recipe. So, processed cheese product is uniquely, ubiquitously American.

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