What you never knew you needed to know about secret government cheese

A national dairy shortage in the 1970s and sustained government subsidies as part of the farmer-friendly 2014 Agricultural Act caused what is now a national cheese surplus – a surplus weighing in at roughly 1.6 billion pounds.

Where could that amount of cheese possibly be hiding, you ask?

If you live in Missouri, the answer is right under your feet.

A warehouse spanning 3.2 million square feet 100 feet below Springfield, Mo., crosswalks, school bus stops, and restaurant delivery routes is home to a labyrinth of cellar-like shelves upon which blocks of 50-year-old cheeses sit, dreaming of lives in sauces, soups, pies, and digital reels.    

While, yes, the cheese is “just sitting there,” it is also being put to use. Or at least, trying to be put to use.

Beginning in the 1980s, under President Reagan’s direction, the abundant cheese supply began being distributed as part of the Temporary Emergency Food Assistance Program (TEFAP) and the Food Distribution Program on Indian Reservations (FDPIR) and donated to food banks and community centers.

While it’s safe to say these distribution efforts were moderately successful and well-received, the cheese itself was “pungent and processed,” making it largely undesirable, particularly among American Indian communities.

As a people who traditionally did not consume dairy as part of their diet (domesticated animals arrived on the Mayflower along with pilgrims in 1621), many American Indians weren’t keen on receiving commodity cheese from the same government that had played a part in restricting their resources to begin with. Still, some Native Americans have found comfort in the way the cheese calls upon the adaptability and resilience of family members both then and now. (November is American Indian Heritage Month. Read more here.)

All this to say: a product whose shelf life meant dairy farmers would see the 21st century regardless of market trends, is, one might say, a national treasure, even taking into account its controversial distribution. 

If you’re fortunate enough to have access to top-tier cheese made from pure Guernsey milk, count your lucky stars. For some, the only cheese on the horizon might be that of Missouri’s basement. (How about some award-winning St. Saviour for all?!)

Every cheese that’s produced supports dairy farmers and their continuous efforts to bring quality products to the table, and that’s a win in itself.