A few weeks ago, I went to Costco with friend and fellow blogger Julie. I had heard the rumors that Costco sells certain food items largely unattainable in Mexico City, chief among them extra-sharp cheddar cheese. I have made it no secret that I get a little woozy in the presence of good cheddar, and since I am uber tired of Mexican cheeses (they are fairly bland), I could resist no longer. I bought a giant block of Vermont’s finest, AKA Cabot’s Vintage Choice white cheddar.
[“Vintage Choice rests in our cellars until it reaches perfect maturity. It boasts a rich, full-bodied, extra-sharp flavor that is wonderfully delicious. Complex in taste and texture, opulent and full of nuances. Its powerful intensity lingers like a sweet memory.” Editor’s Note: Indeed.]
Everyday since then, I’ve sliced a little bit off and savored it. When done, I carefully place Saran wrap around the block and place it lovingly back in the fridge. “Tomorrow, we meet again,” I whisper to it. “Tenemos una cita, amorcito.”
Tonight, I decided to splurge and have a white wine (a Portugese vinho verde — another thing Julie introduced me, to, and tengo un mil gracias por eso) and cheddar cheese dinner.
Normally, when Charlie is in the presence of anything that tastes even a smidge better than his normal kibble, he begins an elaborate begging dance to get a scrap. But if his humans ignore him, he will give up, eventually.
But not tonight. I had thoughtlessly left behind a tiny piece of cheddar and was settling into read a friend’s short story for my writing workshop. He kept bumping into me as I tried to read. WTF? Oh, the cheese, I realized.
Finally, I relented and handed it to him.
He gobbled it up and then jumped off the couch and preceded to circle the coffee table.
Later, I spotted him by the doorway, licking and sniffing his paws (he often holds treats with his paws before eating them).
Right now I think he’s retired to the bedroom, and will soon fall asleep, dreaming of cheddar.