To be honest with you, I’ll have to admit: I don’t think cheese really seems like a high-brow type of food, you know? I mean it’s kind of rancid, spoiled milk squeezed from the teats of various hooved animals like cows and goats. It’s all goopy and congealed and stinky. But somehow it tastes wonderful to us. And in spite of — or maybe because of — this fact, we’ve decided to make cheese-eating an art. An art that I’m determined to master, by the way. Because cheese.
Yes, cheese-eating is an art, and I frickin’ love art as much as I love cheese! But I have yet to master this particular one, which means that I have to be willing to put in a lot of hard work to learn how to appreciate cheese correctly. And therefore, with every bite of cheese that I vow to take, I need to make a note of whether I’m chewing it long enough, getting the right amount on my palette at any one time, finding the best-sized and best-shaped bite, all while refraining from swallowing too quickly, lest I miss some minor yet significant nuance in flavor.
Now please don’t mistake my intentions. I’m not merely sitting here slathering my insides with fat. I'm conducting detailed research into food science. This seemingly gluttonous practice is not a testament to my own sloth or gluttony, no. While I’m stuffing my face with mouthfuls of creamy salted goo, I’m taking note of every sensation and flavor, becoming thoughtful and more seasoned, like the cheese itself does when aged. Seasoned like these crunchy sesame crackers that I’m slathering with Brie.
Wait, no. I swallowed that last mouthful too fast. I hadn’t fully appreciated the creamy mouth-feel of the Brie. Plus, I didn’t even bite all the grapes open like I was supposed to. I’m going to need some more cheese. Just a few more bites. I can do this for the sake of culture. But it looks like I’m going to need to find another platter. Damn it, does anyone have any more cheese? This is important. I’m trying to do science over here!