Comments 10

Even more cheese…

I mean, what can I say?
It’s been a week since my impassioned plea for a Cheese Wheelin’ Poetry Passion.
For those of you who didn’t see that particular post, it’s easy enough to find.
Just scroll back a bit. About a week oughta do.

In that post, I put forth my own two cents, concerning cheese, in the form of two poems – one an original, and one a treatment of cheese that might have made the Bard himself proud – or nauseous.
And then I asked for contributions to the vast repertory of Limburger Literature, if you will…
The response has been staggering, and bewildering – and all kinds of other emotions that can only be made stronger by adding an ‘ing’ suffix.
Like strongering.
Or nauseousing.

Which is to say, the response has been nonexistent.
Whoa, Nellie, nary a peep.
An auger should have the ability to bore that I do.

So I’m thinking there’s a problem… with me. Maybe I’m the only one out there who loves cheese so much. Maybe I’m the one who needs to put the cheese knife down and back away. Cheesy chastity (does Betty Ford work with cheese, I wonder?) – I say – Roquefort rehab would seem to be an inevitability, in my near future. Somebody please do an intervention.

But that can’t be right – I can’t be the only one with such a forbidden passion… can I?
(I have found the fervor that dare not speak its name; and it’s called… Lactose Love!)
So I go to the internet – that bulwark of free speech and cheesy goodness.
I type ‘the most beautiful picture of cheese ever’ into the search box.

It would seem I’m not the only one in need of some tough love.
Oh, my, there are some people out there with a serious feta fetish.
I count myself proud to be just as maniacal about mold as the rest of them.

The very first hit, which wasn’t even a picture, was for a Buzz Feed article, entitled:

Wait for it…


Well, let’s just click the snot right outta that link, shall we…?

Turns out, the entire article is mostly a review for a book, by one Michelle Buffardi, which you can find here.

There I did find some truly glorious pictures of cheese – after it had been mutilated into weird shapes, and covered with all sorts of unnatural substances.




There’s even one that goes like this:


I was speechless.
How could they do such things to my beloved cheese?
Wasn’t (isn’t) cheese sacred? That’s like drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Or putting a loin cloth on the David, or muzzling every ding-dang politician in the land…

Okay, I’ll give you that last one.
And the cat is kinda cute… and the owl…
But it seems like everyone and their brother’s uncle’s favorite nephew’s brother (that’s… everyone, by the way) has got something to say about cheese.

Like this one for:

Ham and Cheese-braised Eggs, from the blog Cooking with a Wallflower.

Or how about this one:

Macaroni & Cheese, from a site called The Pioneer Woman Cooks.

Okay, so there’s a lot of people out there, who seem awfully focused on cooking.
And why not?
But do they have to mess with my beloved cheese? I mean, adding cheese to a recipe just makes whatever the cheese is being added to all the better. But to take it and mush it up into balls is just…


And then I saw this one:


Is that… bacon?

Perhaps I was a bit rash, in my – entirely honest and heartfelt – criticism of the treatment that cheese has received, at the hands of this lovely, lovely woman. Perhaps I shouldn’t paint myself into pasteurized corners like that, without giving the issue more careful thought. Maybe it’s time to come out of the moldy closet, and join the rest of the world, in the harmony and full-bodied aroma of peace, and fellowship… and cheese.

I can do this kinda stuff all day long.
You want it to stop?
Let’s get those poems moving, then.
Send ’em on in.
I got all the time in the world…


ALL photos in this post, and the gif, are from the self-same Buzz Feed article. I claim no ownership nor proprietary rights, other than those assumed by all cheese lovers everywhere. Again, ALL photos are from the aforementioned article…
Except for this one, by somebody else:


And what does one serve as a beverage, with such a Pumpkin Cutey-Pie?
Why, a Starbucks Pumpkin Latte, of course…


  1. Has anyone seen the tags of this post?

    Dollops of moldy goodness untainted by abnormal pairings with toppings of questionable heritage much less appropriateness for the glory that is cheese…

    Man, I’ll bet I’m at the top of THAT search…


  2. Fine, ya big baby….

    Peace, Fellowship…and Cheese

    Photoshop has gotten strange.
    It has a filter called Fromage
    That turns all selfies and all landscapes
    Into rich cheddar collage.

    Rolling hills of golden grass
    Now are wheels of butter brie,
    The buildings, slabs of pepper jack,
    Fondue became an oozing sea.

    Hollywood is different now:
    Tourists all look up and stare,
    Hoping earthquakes send down tastes of
    Buildings carved from Camembert.

    They find the mozarella ocean,
    Lay down nude ‘longside and dream.
    Who wants towels to protect from
    Beaches spread with Philly cream?

    They stay all night under the stars;
    No one wants to pay for Hilton,
    Knowing all the local parks
    Have benches made from Stilton.

    Some folks think of relocating,
    Saving up their checks all year
    For cottage cheese-made cottages
    Or bungalows of smooth Paneer.

    But in that house, the scene has changed,
    The pillows stuffed with marscapone
    Rest under quilts of squares of Swiss
    On beds of Provolone.

    And in the den, the Bluray’s gone
    Replaced by walls of Shropshire Blue
    Because the view is so much sharper,
    And the colors far more true.

    The kitchen is an afterthought–
    Of all the food prepared, the most
    Beloved dish is simply plates
    Of softened hunks of pure Gejtost.

    Garages are all but defunct.
    No one needs to park Miatas.
    Italian delis will deliver
    Parmesan and smooth ricottas.

    Turophiles adore this filter.
    For food selfie sanity,
    Photoshop has more than fostered
    Culinary amity.

    The non-cheese-lovers mutter, “Bored.”
    But only they would say so.
    It’s hard to keep it short when moved
    By vats of dripping queso.

    A moldy muse has formed my words,
    I’m not to blame for every quote.
    I’m knee deep in a bowl of curds,
    Hopped up on wine and drunken goat…(burp!)…cheese.

    Liked by 1 person

Don't sugar-coat it... Tell us how you feel...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s