Does this taste funny?
Over lunch the other day, I asked Stacey what I should write my next column about. There was a thin slice of aged white cheddar on her plate, so she said, “Cheese.”
I said, “That sounds gouda ‘nough.”
I often regret asking Stacey what I should write about. But then again, she often regrets it, too. So my goal for today is to see if I can make you regret reading this.
It’s like Velveeta. Always associated with regret.
Hah! This is going to be fun!
I’m starting this adventure by going to www.cheese.com. This is a direct quote from their home page. “Fun fact: Did you know Pecorino Romano was a part of the staple diet of Roman soldiers?”
How much fun is that!? Plus, the website also has a page titled, “How to Cut Cheese.” Apparently, there are several different methods, depending on the circumstances.
In college, I lodged in a dumpy old cottage with two roommates, Rick and Jack. As college students sometimes do, Rick had scrounged around an old dumpster behind a grocery store. He came home with a cardboard display which he hung above the kitchen sink. It was folded into the shape a giant wedge of cheese, advertising for the Wisconsin Dairy Farmers. It read, “Cheese! It Gives You Ideas!”
Jack and I were having breakfast. “It doesn’t even rind,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jack replied. “Ricotta get rid of it.”
We were eating scrambled eggs. “Pepper, Jack?” I asked.
There was a lull in the conversation, so I changed the subject.
“Where are you going for spring break?”
I had to think about it for a minute. “That should be fun,” I said.
Jack was from Mexico, so we use to call him, “Yak.” He was kind of short, but really strong, so his family called him, “Pony.” One day he drove up with a beautiful new set of wheels.
“Mas car, Pone,” I said. “But I thought you were a Ford man.”
Jack scowled. He told me he was hungry, so I got in his new Chevre and we went to McDonalds. I got a Big Mac, but when I took off the wrapper, it was all soggy.
“That’s a limburger,” Jack said.
I asked if I could have some of his chips and cheese.
“No,” he said. “They’re nachos.”
Jack had a girlfriend. Her name was Tina. I’m not sure why they broke up. She was a lot of Fon.
Stacey says she’s not sure she’s liking how this is going. She thinks my dialogue is a little Stilton. It’s making her feel a little bleu. She says my plot is full of holes.
Get it?! HOLES! Hah! Like the moon!
According to the cheese.com website, cheese can be categorized as follows: soft, semi-soft, semi-hard, hard, firm. What is unclear to me is whether “hard” is harder than “firm.” Or is “firm” harder than “hard?” And how soft is “semi-hard?”
I’m gonna pause here for a moment, and let that age.
And just to end the suspense, I thought I’d let you know that I am not going to write down the pun I thought up for “Pecorino.”
Even though it was really funny. Hah!
It’s great I can write a column and say anything I want. Because it’s a brie country.
The zoo just announced a new arrival at their Primate House. They’ve now got one mo’zzarella.
Stacey says this last one was a bit of a stretch. Kinda stringy.
Three kids were messing around with some food coloring at the water park. That’s what made the Fontainebleau.
Is this getting a little stinky?
Medical experts say it’s okay to offer cheese to children, starting fromage two. (To be honest, I don’t know if that’s true. I just made it up.)
I know you’re all dying to say, “Stop! I Camembert any longer!”
I do know, for sure, that there’s actually a cheese called “manur.” It’s a spread. Roman soldiers used to eat it. On toast. Probably with avocado, but that’s just conjecture.
Okay. So. I think that’s a Neufchatel for now. Ari-Havarti!