Sixteenth Confession

Well, I've come to a decision.  Starting with post 20, we're going to numbers.  Hooray!

Now, this post was going to be about music and my playlist/collection.  But instead, it's going to be about cheese.

I can almost hear a lot of you moaning out there.  "Another meaningless posting about nothing.  Give us something philosophical or at least interesting."  Well, I think we can make cheese philosophical.  And if not, it'll at least give you something to chew on.  No pun intended.  Well, slightly intended.

Cheese is part of our culture - again, no pun intended.  It gives certain groups of people a sense of community: American, Swiss, Amish, for example.  It separates people: those who like Bleu Cheese and those who don't.  It unites different flavors into a harmonious medley: vegetable lover's pizzas wouldn't be the same without a blanket of mozzarella.  Some cheeses are irreplaceable:  anything other than a nice yellow cheddar on a bacon cheeseburger with barbecue sauce wouldn't be quite right.  However, some cheeses can be blended to make a passable, or better, replacement: a pizza with smoked gouda, provolone, and mild white cheddar is exotic and different than the aforementioned mozzarella, and works nearly as well.

Cheeses also evoke memories of childhood, for better or for worse.  My childhood cheese is extra sharp white cheddar.  I grew up nibbling on that between meals, having slices for snack, and having it on sandwiches and in mac and cheese.  That flavor and texture shaped who I am, from a culinary standpoint.  It opened me to stronger-flavored foods, like its cousin Gorgonzola, for example.  It led me out of the steak and potato realm into couscous, curry vindaloo, and miso soup with kelp.

On the opposite end of my cheese spectrum, there is the dreaded Velveeta.  This unnatural "pasteurized prepared cheese product" is almost as bad as American cheese.  Almost.  Both are of the family of "processed cheese", which makes it more shelf stable, but less flavorful and healthy.  Also, it doesn't act like cheese is supposed to act: another blogger on another site talks of importing Velveeta to Thailand and actually repairing the damaged product.  (Watch out, by the way - the illustration at the head of that page is not work-friendly.)  While I heartily disagree with his taste in cheese, I am glad that he enjoys his reconstituted Velveeta overseas.

So, to end this cheesy entry, allow me to impart an anonymous quote, paralleling a Biblical teaching, wrapped in a koan, and garnished with a slice of Edam:  Worry is today's mice nibbling on tomorrow's cheese.