An Ode To Cheese

Here’s the thing about cheese: I just f*cking love it.

Honestly though, it’s one of those things that is just known about me. You know how people always ask “how would you define yourself?” Mine looks something like “purple, sparkly things, puppies, and cheese.” And that pretty much sums me up.

On average, the American human eats 31 pounds of cheese a year. I think I probably double that in regards to the quantity of cheese that goes into my body in a 12 month period- I can’t help it. I’ve heard there are people who exist who will opt out of cheese on things- like salads or tacos, or sandwiches. I actually know one of these people but we try not to discuss this because it makes me really upset.

It just goes with everything. I can find 47 ways to eat cheese every day, although my favorite is probably just straight up on a cracker. Maybe paired with a cured meat and some whole grain mustard. Aka a cheese board.

The first restaurant I got taken to when I moved to New York was a place called Murray’s cheese Bar which is the restaurant attached to the most beautiful cheese shop in all of New York. For those of you who disagree with the ranking of this, go ahead, fight me. Anyway, my friend and I sat down, and I about cried with joy after perusing the menu. EVERYTHING HAD CHEESE IN IT. They’re known for their mac and cheese too, so after the waiter told us the current special was “duck confit, four cheese” mac and cheese (and I finally picked my mouth off the floor), we decided on that special, a cheesemonger’s choice board, fried artichokes, and a bottle of Chenin Blanc.

That meal changed me. It’s still my favorite restaurant and we now have an annual friend date to Murray’s where he lets me order for both of us, and I just sit there in a pile of cheesy glory for two hours beaming like a small child in Disney World.

When I really want to have a self-care day, I go buy a couple kinds of cheese, one meat, some dried fruits and nuts, and a loaf of a crunch bread or crackers. Then I go home and take about an hour to put it all together and then another couple of hours to eat the entire thing by myself. I probably get as much fulfillment of creating the board itself as I do consuming it. It’s like my own form of strange therapy- it’s creative and challenging, and I get really into the zone, so it’s basically meditation.

I don’t really know why I just wrote 550 words about my love of cheese but I did. And I don’t feel shame about it. I guess the moral of the story here (because there always has to be a lesson, right?) is to just do things that make you happy. Does my stomach super love when I demolish an entire cheese board? Ehhh, it could probably be happier about it. But the important thing is that my soul literally soars when I eat it (you think I’m exaggerating, I’m really not), so I eat it to feed my soul.