Processed cheese

So I was in a small group the other morning . . . do you remember from a few days ago, this is not my best thing? Anyway, I was sitting there on the end, trying to think of smart things to add to the conversation ("I like winter hats!") when the conversation turned to processed cheese foods ("I like cheese!") -- Cheez Whiz, Velveeta, cheese in the can and the like.

Truly funny friend Carol came up with the idea of a potluck where you bring the most horrid dish you can think of. The concept of a Spam-Cheez Whiz fondue was brought up . . . with Bac-O bits. I, of course, would bring a lime Jell-O with marshmallows and banana pieces. Being allergic to banana, I would not have to eat it. Before Christmas, my beloved hairdresser Sharon said she would never eat another lil' smokie in BBQ sauce as long as she lived because her grandmother ate them night and day. I'm sure her grandmother's been dead for 30 years or more, but poor Sharon is scarred for life.

I think, though, the conversation started because that end of the table was discussing being brought up on certain foods that sound awful to others. It was a woman who still loves kipper snacks who started it. I don't know what that is, but she still loves them. A small fish from a can or something.

We ate a lot of Kraft macaroni and cheese growing up. I just couldn't possible eat it today due to the powdered cheese factor, but I loved it at the time. Peanut butter sandwiches with brown sugar is another favorite memory from childhood. Sometimes I think of making one of those. White rice with sugar (see entry on Scandinavian white foods from a few days ago). My Grandma Malmberg (not Gigi) made a peanut butter sandwich with chocolate. I wonder how she made it.

I also wonder why I have a sweet tooth.