Ranking the 1986 Kraft “Season’s Eatings” recipes

Santa baby, bring me some Velveeta this year, my dear.

When I want some emotional comfort food and don’t want to think about it too much, I’ll put on one of the seemingly thousands of old commercial compilations on YouTube. It’s not just the jolt of empty nostalgia to my insect brain that it provides, but the fascinating cultural perspective. It’s always amusing to see what advertisers thought potential customers would perceive as “cool,” such as Levi’s relying on doo-wop singing white guys to sell jeans, or whatever the hell Fido Dido was supposed to represent. 

It’s also interesting to note the evolution of targeted consumers - whereas housewives were the predominant audience for commercials from the 50s into the 70s, by the time the 70s ended, a new customer emerged: the working mother. Most women had entered the workforce by that point, and with considerably less time on their hands to worry about such things as ring around the collar, now needed shortcuts to feed their families¹. The number of fast food commercials skyrocketed, and even “home cooking” became a matter of speed and convenience. Thanks to heavily processed, pre-packaged food, now dinner could be made in less than a half hour, with little more effort required than opening a can or jar, and even faster if it could be microwaved. Instant soup, instant pizza, instant chicken chow mein, all of it had enough sodium to give a bull hypertension, but it was the only answer to getting food on the table at an acceptable hour. It was “almost like homemade,” and that was good enough.

Even party and holiday food was remade into a quick, low-effort task. In 1986, Kraft bought most of the advertising real estate during the airing of the Muppets special The Christmas Toy, promoting not just their numerous food products, but special recipes for the holiday season, few of which required any real preparation beyond slicing some vegetables or popping a jar into a microwave. The commercials were narrated by Ed Herlihy, probably best known as Francis Buxton’s father in Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, and Kraft’s spokesman since the 1940s. Like Patrick Stewart shilling for Pontiac in the 90s, Herlihy sounded trustworthy, and when he proclaimed Kraft macaroni and cheese as “the cheesiest,” you just knew he wouldn’t lie about such a thing.

However, even Herlihy had to sweat his way through describing some of these “festive” recipes, many of which involve Cheez Whiz or Velveeta, both of which were so loaded with additives that they couldn’t legally be called “cheese.” I will now attempt to rate each featured recipe according to which I would least to most likely eat, with the qualifier that I will eat almost anything. I may sound judgmental about the processed food era, but it was all I ate. Hamburger Helper, Stouffer’s frozen meals, Elio’s French bread pizza, I wasn’t above it, and I probably would have looked at some of the Kraft holiday recipes as a genuine treat, if for no other reason that they occasionally involved a piece of fruit or a carrot stick. So it’s without a bit of snobbery that I proceed:

Cheesy Fruit Dip: Here’s a real record scratch moment, starting relatively strong with applesauce and pecans, and then adding a big old jar of Cheez Whiz (heated up in the microwave so that it’s essentially edible napalm) to it, served with apple slices. It’s a sad apple pie reduction, and I shudder to think about the waxy skin that will develop once the Cheez Whiz cools down.

EFFORT INVOLVED: it probably took longer to slice the apples than it did to make the dip

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 1. I appreciate the concept, I suppose, but I just can’t get behind molten orange glop and applesauce mixed together. It feels like a dare pulled together by the last remaining food in the fridge.

Apple & Onion Dip: If you’re tired of Lipton onion dip (and how dare you), perhaps try this zesty mix of Kraft real mayonnaise, sour cream, chopped apples and raw(!) onions, served with wedges of untoasted bagels. According to Ed Herlihy, it makes a great hostess gift, if your hostess doesn’t mind having breath that will strip the paint off a ‘75 Cadillac.

EFFORT INVOLVED: No cooking, some chopping, possibly asking someone to open the mayonnaise jar for you

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 2. I wonder if this would be more palatable with caramelized onions, but I don’t know. And yet, I’m intrigued at the same time by a party dip that will leave visible fumes coming out of your mouth.

Festive Sandwich Tray: Calling this a “recipe” is rather generous. Another hostess gift suggestion (presumably for a hostess you hate), arrange deli meat with Velveeta slices (still in their plastic wrapping!) and serve with a “special spread” of chopped vegetables and Parkay margarine. Margarine! On a lunch meat sandwich!

EFFORT INVOLVED: Virtually none

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: I mean, I’d almost certainly eat the deli meat, but putting margarine on a sandwich that isn’t grilled cheese is baffling to me, like serving spaghetti with chocolate sauce. So, 2.5.

Cheesy Macaroni Zucchini Casserole: Here we come to one of the problems with Kraft’s festive recipes: they probably taste perfectly fine, but are in no way appropriate “party” food. Mix Kraft macaroni and cheese with sliced zucchini and chopped tomatoes, and serve to your guests, who will ooh and aah and almost certainly talk shit about you behind your back, and you’d deserve it.

EFFORT INVOLVED: Oh hey, we finally get to a recipe that involves turning on a stove

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: Let me be clear, I’d eat the hell out of this. But serve it as party food? Maybe if the party was me, two other people, and a giant bag of weed.

Chocolate Orange Mousse: “Mousse” should be in quotes, as this involves neither the ingredients nor the work involved in chocolate mousse. A pancreas-destroying combination of melted marshmallows and chocolate chips, it’s meant to impress party guests who’ve never had real chocolate mousse. Still, you know perfectly well that Marcy, who went to Paris last summer and cannot stop talking about it, will see right through that nonsense, don’t even try it.

EFFORT INVOLVED: Melting marshmallows and chocolate chips? Just throw those pots right into the trash afterward.

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 3, but I’ll regret it later.

Gala Party Dip: More cheese lava (or, I’m sorry, “processed cheese food” lava) as we combine melted Velveeta with sauteed spinach and serve it in a sourdough bread bowl, back when sourdough bread bowls were considered very chic. 

EFFORT INVOLVED: Sauteeing the spinach probably took a few minutes, if you could get your lazy sack of shit husband to hollow out the bread bowl, right, Barbara?

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 3.5. It’s probably fine.

Barbecued Wings: I’m going to be pedantic for a moment and say that, technically, these aren’t barbecued wings, because they’re not made on a barbecue. They’re just chicken wings coated with Kraft barbecue sauce (mixed with Kraft orange juice, which I did not know was a thing) and baked. You’re playing a dangerous game serving anything with barbecue sauce at a party, Janet, I hope you have plenty of Spray & Wash on hand.

EFFORT INVOLVED: We’re turning on the whole damn oven for this!

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 3.5. They’re probably fine.

Apple-Cranberry Tart: Okay, now we’re literally cooking. This recipe involves not only actual work but also actual food: genuine, several molecules away from plastic cheddar cheese. It would be just as good without the cheese in the crust (and you definitely don’t need unmelted cheese sprinkled on top), but since Kraft has never been in the fruit business (other than the mysterious orange juice), there has to be something it can stamp its name on.

EFFORT INVOLVED: It’s real, honest to goodness baking! Have a glass of Harvey’s Bristol Cream afterward, Linda, you deserve it.

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 4. Other than the handful of shredded cheese on top of it that looks like it was dropped on it by accident, it looks pretty tasty.

Strawberry Almond Bars: More actual baking, this time involving a brown sugar base and Kraft strawberry preserves. It’s also recommended that you use “buttery flavored” Parkay for the base, a puzzling suggestion considering that no steps are saved in using margarine over butter. But then again, this was from when butter was considered an enemy of the people, and butter-flavored chemicals a healthier alternative².

EFFORT INVOLVED: A fair amount

HOW LIKELY I WOULD EAT IT: 4, especially if you use real butter in the crust

Potato Rounds: The holiday season isn’t complete without massive amounts of carbs, so slice up some potatoes, top with a mixture of Miracle Whip and sour cream, sprinkle with Kraft parmesan cheese (we called this “shaky cheese”), and arrange in the shape of a Christmas tree. Put those good-for-nothing kids to work slicing potatoes, Jean, what else do they have better to do, smoke pot in the basement? 

EFFORT INVOLVED: Slicin’ some taters, arranging them in the shape of a Christmas tree, and then shooting daggers out of your eyes at the first person who messes that up

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: 4. Though I have a strict “no Miracle Whip” rule in my household, there’s a special kind of pure magic involved in combining potatoes and sour cream, and whoever thought of that hopefully is seated at the right hand of God now.

Cheddar Crisps: Cracker Barrel? Now we’re talking. Mix it into a dough with crushed potato chips (why? don’t ask why, trust Ed Herlihy), form into balls, flatten and bake into little orange discs of sunshine. If you were to sit me in a corner with a plateful of these and some spiced apple cider (the spice is brandy), you wouldn’t hear a peep out of me for the rest of the night except for the occasional yummy noise.

EFFORT INVOLVED: They’re snickerdoodles, except you’re swapping out the sugar for cheese and the butter for crushed potato chips, so a modest amount.

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: The real question is, how likely would I leave some for everyone else?

Salad With Zesty Italian Dressing: It’s a salad.

EFFORT INVOLVED: It’s a salad.

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT. 4.5. It’s a salad.

Meatball Subs: Kraft may have been giving themselves too much credit for this recipe, as the only item they contribute is the shaky cheese that goes on top. Regardless, short of making them with ketchup instead of tomato sauce (although if there was Kraft branded ketchup, they might have), you can’t go wrong with a meatball sub, especially if it’s on those nice soft Italian rolls, and the sauce got that little zest to it mmm mmm mmm.

EFFORT INVOLVED: Rolling up them meatballs, mostly, and then holding me back with pepper spray to keep from eating them all.

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: Let me reiterate, I would sell your grandmother to the circus for the price of one (1) meatball sub. 5.

Cappuccino Cheesecake: Considering the multiple recipes that involve either Velveeta or Cheez Whiz, it’s incredible that this is the only festive recipe that involves Philadelphia cream cheese, the cream cheese of the gods. Professional bakers swear by good ol’ Philly, and if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for you and your picky friends, Brenda. If you’re going to go to the trouble of making a cheesecake from scratch (which can be a bit of a challenge), why not go for broke and use freshly brewed coffee rather than that instant swill the recipe suggests? Go crazy, it’s Christmas, be the envy of your book club!

EFFORT INVOLVED: Pretty significant. Certain cheesecake recipes are so touchy that opening the oven door just a crack while its baking can cause the whole thing to collapse (relatable) 

HOW LIKELY WOULD I EAT IT: I’d bake it. I’d eat it, I’d carry around a little bit in my pocket to remember afterward.

May your season’s greetings involve season’s eatings, and have a wonderful holiday! I’ll be taking a little break to celebrate (and possibly eat a meatball sub) until the end of next week.

1. You’ll note that the concept that fathers could (and should) be able to feed themselves and their children would not be addressed until the 21st century.

2. Read about olestra and its side effects, but not while you’re eating anything I’ve written about here.