speaking of cheese...

i learned a very crucial lesson today: not all cheeses are equal. i’ve known for a long time that french cheese is in most all regards superior to american cheese. what i did NOT know is that there are french cheeses that have a vendetta against humankind. this i discovered today.

i was happily perusing the cheese shop (which i have on good authority is the best in all of vichy... though quite possibly the only in all of vichy...) and saw a quaint little grey mass that i thought needed to make acquaintance with my stomach acids. it was all of 1€10, and the size of a small pillbox. harmless, surely.

HA! the cretin! (uh... please no comments as to unto whom that statement refers.) i take it out of the shop (and no doubt earshot of the snickering from the shop owner), and open up my little wax paper package. the thing is nearly rock solid, thwarting my attempts to break it in half. i must resort to brute force of teeth to crack into it. so i take a manly chunk, and begin chewing. decent-ish taste... for about 4 1/2 seconds. then it...

well, let’s put it this way: if you allow the stuff to sit on your tongue for 4 1/2 seconds, you’ll notice it makes you all tingly. come the 5th second, it starts to burn... like acid. in fact, at second 5 that is precisely how i would describe the taste of the cheese -- battery acid. foul stuff, it was. to add to the horror, when i look down at it again, i notice wee bonny bestials crawling about as if they own the thing... nesting in it no less!

i thought, “well, this isn’t unheard of... maybe it’s supposed to be like that.” i mean, it is the first time i’ve made the purchase of such a cheese. so, i decided to stow it in my pocket, and ask the host family on our arrival back for dinner.

reaction: wow... i wouldn’t eat it.

enough said. cheese to the can.

only, this is me we’re dealing with.

so, i take the offending mold outside, give it a good toss on the ground to knock the little bug-gers off, and brush all but one or two diehards off with my fingers. back to the table, where my wife wishes me a fond farewell, and the hosts reiterate that i will be the sole to eat of the concoction. alas... surrounded by cowards!

nasty stuff. i had perhaps 5% of it before it was off to a long, happy and complete life in the dump. it’s still got a good century under the belt before it turns.