Liz Lemon’s love of cheese rivals mine. Actually, I think hers might go a bit beyond, as I don’t own a snuggie. . .although I admit, while living alone I have made up songs about various food products and I knew I probably should have secured a copyright on “Night Cheese.” Darn you Lemon.
Ever since visiting France for the first time at the age of seven, where I learned the phrase “the cheese is old and moldy” (“le fromage est vieux et moisi”) and was introduced to the wonderful world of Brie, I’ve been a little obsessed.
Brie is heaven. Baked Brie is heaven times a million. I could eat just baked brie and some grapes or apple slices for a whole meal and be completely content. The warm, melted cheese wraps itself around the tastebuds. Baked Brie reminds me of every thanksgiving gathering and conjurs up ideas of home. . .obsessed, see?
I’ve been dabbling in other cheeses to broaden my horizons. I go to Trader Joes or Whole Foods, to get a bottle of a wine I’ve never tasted (trying to broaden the wine horizon as well, although on my limited budget, I’m usually broadening my two buck chuck horizon) and try to pair it with a new cheese.
Lately, I’ve been obsessed with Dubliner. It’s made in County Cork, Ireland (although named for Dublin) and tastes of a sharp cheddar with hints of parmesean and swiss. I’ve been wanting to plan an Ireland trip for about a year now, so perhaps my new liking of this cheese relates to my daydreaming. I’ll sit and eat it and dream of rolling green hills, sheeps grazing, and pubs full of friendly faces and Guinness.
So perhaps I’ll get to Ireland this year, and try Dubliner in it’s hometown. In the meantime, I’ll go buy a snuggie and work on some new songs about cheese.