At a recent cocktail party I was asked "Why cheese?" Of all the subjects to write about, of all the hobbies, why cheese? This is the sort of question that practically renders me speechless. Suddenly vast amounts of information, experience and pure joie de vie are all battling for space in my voice box. Really, ask anyone to sum up their life's great passion in 30 seconds and you'll probably get stuttering, floundering nonsense.
After much thought, this is why I love cheese: Cheese is the history of modern man, wrapped up in a neat bundle, that you can experience with the five senses.
Cheese yesterday and tomorrow. Right now, cheeses are being made as they have been for centuries; poured by hand, patted with vegetable ash, stored in caves. And right now, cheese is being made in the most modern ways. It starts with artificial insemination, and moves on to mechanical milking, chemical rennet, factories, hair nets, pasteurized, processed, vacuum sealed and shipped to a shelf near you.
Cheese making began as simple way to store excess milk. But it has involved into so much more. At times it's an art form, a cultural identity, a high-brow pursuit, a way to get the kids to eat broccoli, income for Nepali nomads, sculpture, humor, and on and on. And all this in something that you can hold in your hand. You could smell the animal in it or the factory. It could be dyed orange, be moldy blue, or pure milky white. Taste the air of the alps; the acquired taste of pungent Belgian creations. Eat what monks ate centuries ago. Touch tiny leaf wrapped bundles, chase wheels of pitted rind cheese down hills, wrestling the crinkling plastic off individual slice cheese. Giggle while chewing "squeaky cheese". Listen to the snap of husks in the illegal maggot cheese. What other food can neatly set beside each other; modern and historical, adventurous and everyday, high end and low brow?