Weekends come and go. Parties are had. Drinks are consumed. Hors d’oeuvres are eaten. They leave behind happy memories…and several half-eaten cheeses in Ziplock bags stuffed hastily in the fridge.
How the cheeses end up in the fridge is unknown, although there are several theories. Some think the last person to go to bed looks at the dishes from the night’s revelries, sees the cheese plate still out, the half circle of brie bleeding all over the olives, and they think to themselves, ‘That’s a waste.’ So all the semi-eaten cheeses are gathered up regardless of their ethnicity and unceremoniously dumped into the freezer-size baggie. Goudas rub against gorgonzolas, stiltons beat the snot out of bocconcini.
This practice continues week after week until, on one faithful Monday, I open the fridge and am confronted with nothing but bags of plastic. I can’t even find cream for my coffee without swimming through a sea-of-Glad Clingwrap and Ziplock Large Freezer bags.
My conscious strikes out at me, forces me to consolidate the now crumbling and half-eaten cheeses into one large mega-sized ball of the fermented curd.
Not for a second do I consider throwing it away. That would be anathema to me. Throw out cheese? The insanity of it! Banish the thought!
Instead, I make a game of it. I close my eyes, rotate the ball for several moments, then with eyes still closed, I bite. To paraphrase Forrest Gump, “Life’s like Nick’s ball of cheese — you never know what you’re going to get.”
It could be a delectable whiskey cheddar, bold Delft blue, or mellow Jarlsberg—each a treasure.
Then there are those bites when I get a mix of cheeses. Those can range from sheer innovation and bliss, to challenging. I once got a 40/60 mix of Boursin Garlic and Fine Herbs with a six-year-old cheddar. That confused the old tongue, let me tell you. I swallowed it nonetheless.
Where I draw the line, and I know this will cause controversy, is at smoked cheeses.
Now, I love a good smoked brisket or ribs. A smoky flavour in a BBQ sauce, yum! But in cheese? To me, it’s like that stale smell you get on your clothes after going to a cocktail party where everyone is hacking back Gitanes and Marlboros. Blah! Phooey!
So, I implore you. Don’t throw out our cheese ends. Recycle them. Just tossed anything smoked to the dog. They’ll thank you for it.
Cheers!
Nick.
I would like to know more about this mysterious "leftover cheese" phenomenon. I'm unfamiliar with the idea.
Also, a fast way to dispose of the mountain of uneaten wood chips spuriously packaged as gluten-free crackers would be a worthwhile invention.
Don't like smoked cheese? Heathen!!!!
Double-smoked cheddar from Costco is one of my favourite cheeses! Smoked Gouda is out of this world good too!
Not much of a cheese shop, is it? (LOL)