oh how i love cheese
When I drink, even a little, I want to eat bad-for-me food. Everyone does. It's why wings and beer go together, right? I'm on a budget, though, and I'm respecting that. So tonight, after I had my two Thursday night special beers ($3 for ANYTHING on tap, and the cute and competent new bartender either gave me a discount or he's bad at math) at the Smokehouse and socialized with guides from my old company (hey, I still love THEM...they're like my war buddies), I came home and inhaled cheese on french bread.
I wish I could tell you what kind of cheese, but alas, I cannot, except that I think it came from a goat. It was fancily-wrapped cheese that was "staffed" at work, put on the staff shelf in the walk-in cooler because of the marvelous green mold blossoms on the ash rind. Apparently that makes it unsuitable for sale, but as cheese lovers know, NOT unsuitable for consumption. I scraped the mold off the cheese, wiped it on the wrapper, and tossed the mold/wrapper conglomeration in the trash. I could dig it out and look to see what, exactly, it is I just ate, but I am lazy and pleasantly sleepy and not at all inclined to do so. Let is suffice to say that it was good.
And oh, I do love cheese. Like wine, I know nothing about it, except that it's mostly good. So I enjoy it when I have it, knowing we will probably not cross paths again, because I never remember what good cheese or wine I had in the past. Probably because I don't look at the wrappers or labels, and that's okay. I know I like white wine, although I couldn't begin to tell you what kind. I know I like goat cheese. Oh, and I know I REALLY like Ethiopian coffee. That's enough for me.
I wish I could tell you what kind of cheese, but alas, I cannot, except that I think it came from a goat. It was fancily-wrapped cheese that was "staffed" at work, put on the staff shelf in the walk-in cooler because of the marvelous green mold blossoms on the ash rind. Apparently that makes it unsuitable for sale, but as cheese lovers know, NOT unsuitable for consumption. I scraped the mold off the cheese, wiped it on the wrapper, and tossed the mold/wrapper conglomeration in the trash. I could dig it out and look to see what, exactly, it is I just ate, but I am lazy and pleasantly sleepy and not at all inclined to do so. Let is suffice to say that it was good.
And oh, I do love cheese. Like wine, I know nothing about it, except that it's mostly good. So I enjoy it when I have it, knowing we will probably not cross paths again, because I never remember what good cheese or wine I had in the past. Probably because I don't look at the wrappers or labels, and that's okay. I know I like white wine, although I couldn't begin to tell you what kind. I know I like goat cheese. Oh, and I know I REALLY like Ethiopian coffee. That's enough for me.