Why Is American Cheese Processed? Legal Battle & War Rations

The public is divided on the subject of American cheese. You either have nostalgic affection for a childhood grilled cheese, or intense disgust toward what you believe is “fake, plastic food.” Food purists dismiss it as an industrial chemical creation and many insist that it isn’t real cheese at all. American cheese, however, isn’t a cheap shortcut for faking cheese, nor is it full of synthetic fillers. The true story involves the military of World War I and dramatic patent wars against traditional dairy cartels. It’s also the story of a radical engineering solution to one of the oldest problems in food history. How do you stop fresh cheese from spoiling in transit?

The journey of Kraft Singles from something Wisconsin cheesemakers labelled “embalmed cheese” to the quintessential cheese for a cheeseburger was anything but straight-forward.

The “Embalmed Cheese” War: Wisconsin Dairy vs. James L. Kraft

In the early 1900s, buying cheddar was a very different experience than grabbing a pre-packaged block off a refrigerated shelf today. Grocers stocked cheese as massive, 50- to 70-pound wheels. Much like a modern grocery store deli, the grocer sliced off individual portions by weight for each customer. But unlike today’s deli counter, there were no electric slicers, no plastic wrap, and no refrigeration.

Whole wheels sat exposed on open wooden counters for weeks. They aged rapidly in the open air, sweated pools of butterfat in the summer heat, dried into hard crusts, and quickly turned rancid or moldy. To sell a clean wedge, grocers constantly had to pare away spoiled outer layers, resulting in food waste and razor-thin profit margins.

James L. Kraft, a wholesale cheese distributor in Chicago, set out to solve this decay problem. His goal wasn’t to create a cheaper, artificial product, but to stabilize real cheese so it could be shipped long distances without spoiling. After years of experimenting in his kitchen, Kraft discovered that heating ground cheddar while constantly stirring it with emulsifying salts (like sodium phosphate) prevented the fat from separating from the milk solids.

In 1916, Kraft secured a landmark U.S. patent for pasteurized, emulsified cheese in cans. The invention threatened traditional dairy farmers and Wisconsin cheesemakers, who saw processed cheese as an industrial monstrosity that bypassed the traditional aging process. Led by the Wisconsin Department of Agriculture, traditional creameries mounted a fierce political and legal campaign to destroy Kraft’s business. They lobbied state legislatures to pass laws requiring processed cheese to carry derogatory warning labels, calling it “embalmed cheese,” “fake cheese,” and an insult to traditional dairy.

Despite the smear campaigns, Kraft’s process solved a real problem in the in the American food supply chain and a global war was about to prove its value on a massive scale.

Smear campaigns from the early 1900s, like calling it ‘plastic food’, have simply evolved into modern viral myths. In fact, calling processed cheese ‘fake’ relies on the exact same pseudo-science rhetoric originally used against margarine, claiming it is one molecule away from plastic.

How “Processed Cheese” Officially Became “American Cheese”

Many assume Kraft named his creation “American Cheese” as a patriotic marketing ploy. In reality, the name was forced on him by a bizarre federal compromise that makes little sense in hindsight.

When Wisconsin cheesemakers sued Kraft, their primary goal was to protect the prestige of traditional cheddar. To the dairy lobby, “Cheddar” was the gold standard, while “American cheese” was a 19th-century trade term, originally popularized by British importers, to describe cheap, mass-produced U.S. factory cheese.

Since Kraft was labelling his canned processed cheese product as Cheddar, the USDA ruled that because the product was a pasteurized blend of cheddar, Colby, and emulsifiers, it could not be legally sold as pure cheddar. In a baffling attempt to appease both sides, the USDA ruled in 1923 that any pasteurized blend of domestic cheddars and Colbys must be legally labeled “Pasteurized Process American Cheese.” This, supposedly, would protect the integrity of the word cheddar.

It is hard to fathom what regulators were thinking. In their hyper-fixation on safeguarding the word Cheddar, they handed Kraft the ultimate marketing gift. Regulators assumed consumers would view “Pasteurized Process” as a warning label. Instead, the public ignored the legal jargon, embraced the words American Cheese, and turned Kraft’s emergency war ration into a proud national staple, permanently stripping traditional cheesemakers of the name in the process.

Kraft realized something the regulators and the Wisconsin dairy lobby completely missed! Typography and visual hierarchy win every time.

By placing AMERICAN in giant, bold, heroic lettering right across the center of the box, and shrinking “Pasteurized Process Cheese” down into small, regulatory fine print, Kraft effectively redesigned consumer perception.

So, the whole thing backfired completely. Instead of punishing Kraft, the ruling handed him a federally backed national identity, permanently stripping traditional cheesemakers of the term “American cheese” and shifting its meaning forever.

The WWI Military Engine: Canned Cheese in the Trenches

When the United States entered World War I in 1917, the U.S. Army faced the same age-old problem of every army before it. How were they to feed millions of soldiers fighting in the muddy, unsanitary trenches of Europe without perishable food spoiling in transit?

Fresh cheddar was completely useless on the front lines. On the other hand, Kraft’s patented canned processed cheese was truly a miracle ration. Modern food critics who view processed cheese through the lens of modern dietary balance might well miss the point of battlefield logistics entirely. On the front lines, high-fat, non-perishable food is pure gold. Much like Napoleon’s search for a cheap, shelf-stable butter alternative that led to the invention of margarine, the military needed pure, dense fuel. By combining shelf-stable fat with concentrated dairy protein, Kraft created an ideal ration for soldiers burning extreme calories in brutal trench conditions. It could withstand scorching heat, ocean transport, and months of storage without refrigeration, providing troops with immediate, sustained energy that couldn’t go rancid.

WWI served as the ultimate proof-of-concept for processed cheese. More importantly, it created a captive audience of millions. Returning American soldiers came home with a permanent taste for Kraft’s consistent, mild, meltable cheese. What began as a military emergency ration quickly became a staple in the American pantry.

From Velveeta to Deluxe: The Mid-Century Convenience Boom

Building on his wartime success, Kraft expanded his empire throughout the 1920s and 1930s. But as the product line grew, a common confusion emerged that persists today. What was the difference between Kraft’s original processed cheese and Velveeta?

While Kraft’s original 1916 product was made by emulsifying ground cheddar, Velveeta was born from a completely different technique. Invented in 1918 by Swiss immigrant Emil Frey and acquired by Kraft in 1927, Velveeta was created to solve cheese factory waste. Frey combined leftover trimmings of cheddar and Swiss cheese with whey, the nutrient-dense liquid byproduct usually drained off during cheesemaking.

By re-incorporating whey protein solids, Velveeta achieved an ultra-smooth, “velvety” emulsion that melted into a liquid sauce without breaking or separating into grease. During the Great Depression, this whey-fortified block became a crucial lifeline for budget-conscious families, offering an inexpensive, high-protein base that stretched casseroles and dips, not to mention creating a taste that Americans came to crave.

As the American food system modernized in the post-WWII era, convenience became king, and Kraft needed a way to translate that melting success into quick, uniform portions. In 1950, Kraft introduced Kraft Deluxe Processed Slices.

Previous attempts by competitors to pre-slice cheese resulted in the slices fusing back together in the package into a solid block. Kraft engineers solved this using the Velveeta-inspired liquid emulsion. They poured hot processed cheese onto cold, rotating steel drums, creating a continuous “ribbon” of cheese that was mechanically cut into uniform squares before packaging.

For the first time, home cooks and fast-food diners had perfectly uniform, perfectly meltable squares of cheese tailored specifically for the booming post-war food trend, the modern cheeseburger.

The Plastic Film Breakthrough: 1965 Kraft Singles

While Deluxe Slices were a massive mid-century hit, they had quite the annoying practical flaw. Once you opened the pack, the stacked slices tended to fuse back together into a single block in the refrigerator.

In 1965, Kraft introduced an engineering breakthrough that changed the dairy aisle forever: individually wrapped slices. This “new” product was officially branded as Kraft Singles, the product most of use grew up eating. Using specialized machinery, hot liquid processed cheese was injected directly into individual plastic film pouches, sealed, and chilled. The plastic wrapper acted as a mold to form the slice shape. It then preserved moisture, prevented oxidation, and allowed customers peel off use a single slice without destroying the rest of the stack.

This creates a odd timeline confusion for modern shoppers. Today, most consumers assume Kraft Singles are the “original” baseline product and that unwrapped Kraft Deli Deluxe Slices are a newer, “premium” spin-off.

In reality, it was the exact opposite: the unwrapped Deluxe slice came first in 1950, and the individually wrapped Single was invented in 1965 to fix its sticky flaw.

Eventually, as plastic-wrapped Singles became the dominant force on supermarket shelves, Kraft repositioned its original 1950s unwrapped style as a deli-style alternative for people who didn’t want to peel plastic film off every slice, completing a full circle in grocery store history. If you buy a package of Deli Deluxe, you’ll notice while they can be a bit difficult to peel apart, they don’t fuse back together.

Originally, Kraft used interleaved wax paper strips (often called interleaving paper) to keep the slices from fusing together in the package.

However, the modern unwrapped slices no longer use wax paper separators. Instead, they rely entirely on precise moisture, fat, and emulsifier formulation:

Lower Moisture Content: Deli Deluxe is formulated as a standard “Pasteurized Process Cheese” (which has a lower maximum moisture cap from the FDA than “Pasteurized Process Cheese Product” like standard Singles). Lower moisture means a firmer structure and less surface stickiness.
Cold-Ribbon Setting: The hot processed cheese liquid is cooled rapidly on chill rollers, creating a firm outer “skin” on each side of the continuous ribbon before it’s mechanically sliced and stacked.
Fat & Emulsifier Stability: Controlling the exact ratio of sodium citrate/phosphate keeps the butterfat tightly bound inside the protein emulsification so oil doesn’t sweat out onto the surface of the slice to act as an glue in the pack.

Why American Cheese Gets So Much Hate Today

Despite its rich history of feeing WWI soldiers and its engineering triumphs, processed cheese in the late 20th and early 21st centuries became a target of intense food purism.

Modern critics often point to labels reading “Pasteurized Process Cheese Product” as proof that the slices are “fake.” In reality, these regulatory designations are strict FDA standards based on moisture content and the percentage of real cheese used in the blend (often combining real cheddar, Colby, and milk solids).

Smear campaigns from the early 1900s, like calling it “plastic food”, have simply evolved into modern viral myths. Today, internet videos show people holding a lighter to a slice of American cheese, claiming that because it chars without dripping liquid fat, it must be plastic. For a full breakdown of the emulsion science behind those viral lighter videos, read my deep dive on Why Kraft American Cheese Burns Instead of Melts When Exposed to Direct Flame.