My name is Kathryn and I’m a dairy fiend.
I sincerely hope there’s no umpteen-step program out there to cure me of my addiction, because I would be ever so sad to part company with butter (pastured butter, sage butter, beurre noisette…), cream (yogurt, ice cream, whipped cream, a drizzle of heavy cream, sour cream…) and all of their cow- and goat- and sheep-produced milky ilk. Among the most dire of those losses would certainly be cheeses. It’s even a remote possibility that in my childhood I mistook various people’s talk about the power and centrality of a certain deity in their lives as completely understandable allegiance to the prepared and aged dairy product, hearing them intone instead, ‘come into my heart, Lord Cheeses.’
All of that is merely to tell you in what high esteem I hold dairy products. I know I am not alone in this. The worldwide fame of the French cheese board, an Italian feast topped with fine curls of Parmigiano-Reggiano, a glorious firework of Saganaki, a rich fondue or heart- and hearth-warming rustic iron cooker oozing with Raclette (somehow fitting is that the compute offers as a ‘correction’ of this name the word Paraclete, for it is both a helper and rather holy in its way)–these are all embedded in the souls and arteries of generations around the globe, along with many others. The land of my birth has been, if anything, impregnated with this rich and robust love by every wave of immigrants who have ever set foot on its shores, bringing along all of the aforementioned and so much more, and gradually adding a multitude of delightfully cheesy (in every sense of the word) American twists to them. Along the way, besides gleefully adopting and adapting all of the aforementioned, we dairy devotees stateside have high on the short list of our national favorite foods such delicacies as cheeseburgers, grilled cheese sandwiches, pizza and macaroni and cheese. [For the latter, by the way, I’d be hard pressed to find a recipe that rivals Amy Sedaris’s death-defying macaroni and cheese for my love; infinite variations of it have become my personal staple when I choose to make the dish.]
I confess that lowest on my personal list of cheese ratings, possibly even below the most notoriously stinky and bizarre of cheeses (yes, Gammelost, I’m looking at YOU) is the one ‘cheese’ named for our country, American Cheese, which I personally think of as purportedly edible vinyl and often has little or no actual dairy contents, though for good or ill there are otherwise reputable American cheese makers currently promoting a new, truly dairy version of this stuff. Yes, I get the whole melt-ability thing, whether for Tex-Mex ‘queso‘ (an ironic name, to my way of thinking) or for creamy sauces and the like—but I also know there are plenty of ways to achieve that smoothness with what I think of as real cheeses. But I digress. Yet again.
When hungry for grilled or toasted cheese sandwiches I am not averse to tinkering with the most sacred simple versions, as long as the cheese still gets to star in the meal, because after all, the entrée is named after it. Since there are whole restaurant menus devoted to the single item of this sandwich, I needn’t tell you what a wide and spectacular range of goodies goes ever-so-nicely with cheese and bread. Now that I think of it, the stereotype of the French eating nothing but bread, cheese and wine could be excellent reason to pour up a nice glass of red when one is consuming a grilled cheese sammy, but that’s merely a starting point for the whole world of possibilities of course. A cheese and chutney sandwich comprising a sharp white cheddar, Major Grey’s chutney and a lovely dense bread (how about a nice sweet pumpernickel? she asked) is a thing of beauty. A perfect deli Reuben is a great variant of the cheese sandwich. Tuna melt? Why, yes, please! And on we go.
Sometimes it can be both simple and surprising. I’d be hard pressed to love a sandwich better than the peasant bread grilled cheese from Beecher’s in Seattle with their Flagship in the starring role. But I’ve also discovered that a thick slice of Leipäjuusto (a slow-melt cheese like Saganaki), a few slices of crisped bacon and a generous schmier of ginger marmalade make for a dandy combination, and I would certainly not keep such a stellar combination from you, my friends. Kevin, a Canadian small-kitchen wizard, has published a veritable encyclopedia of grilled cheese sandwich variations on his blog Closet Cooking (a site everyone with cheese in his DNA ought to bookmark, stat), and there are all sorts of other blogs and sites, foodie and otherwise, loaded with such cheesy champions as can make your spirits sing and your capillaries tighten simultaneously. So go forth and chase the cheeses! I’ll be here waiting for you, with the ribbons of some good, fat, stretchy melted mozzarella hanging out of the corners of my loopy grin.
Hi! My name is Teri and I am a carb fiend! (popcorn, bread, rolls, biscuits, yum!)
Yeah, to be fair I would have to say I’m a Food Fiend. 😀 I’m with you on the carb-alicious goodies. After all, grilled cheese is best when it is literally sandwiched with bread!
Mmmmm. Cheese. I suggest a grilled sandwich consisting of asiago bread, brie, a mellow cheddar, bacon, and roasted garlic and onion jam, served with a glass of chilled cava. And now I have to rush off to the store…
Oh, my. Hope there are some leftovers by the time I dash over there!! 😉
And cheese is why I make such an unsuccessful vegan! Must have cheese!
Yes, so far anything Vegan that means to be cheese hasn’t quite convinced me. I don’t really think animals begrudge us their milk anyway, but I admit I’m no mind reader, seeing that I’m not entirely sure I read my *own* very well half the time. 😉 Mmmmmm, cheeeeeeeese.
Cheese Gromit, CHEESE!
Yes, I’m in your club also. I don’t have a prob with American cheese, although rarely eaten. However. .. what the heck is Velveeta? How can this be a cheese? Ick.
I think Velveeta should be placed into a separate “food” group. Perhaps a faux-food label would do. Having said that, I do admit a certain fondness for Velveeta “queso.”
Ha! Yes. The faux food group!
(((Snerk!))) Good one!!!
I like the *idea* of queso far better than any version of it I’ve had in recent years. Maybe I should try making a version of classic cheese *fondue* to use as queso but using Texas cheeses (there are quite a few good ones), beer, and a touch of Tito’s vodka. Hmmm. I may have an experiment in my future…!
Oh, yes! Brazos Valley Cheese has a lovely soft ripening cheese wrapped in fig leaves, and Pure Luck out of Dripping Springs has the most delicious selection of goat cheeses. Oh, yeah. A fondue, with beer and/or Tito ‘s. Now you’re talking!
Gracious (or should I say, Gracias!)—that sounds like some mighty appropriate cheese for practically any occasion. Mmmmm!
I believe that if one could roll it thin enough, Velveeta might make a fine covering for waiting-room furniture, or perhaps one could make rain slickers from sheets of it. Ick and Ugh. 😉 Now I will be hearing Wallace’s paeans to cheese in my head all day. Not a bad problem, mind you! 🙂
Mmmmm. There’s nothing like the taste of cheese! Aciago is my fav.
I might be hard-pressed if anyone insisted I narrow them down to one favorite. Thank goodness there’s no such rule! But yes, Asiago is delightful stuff and belongs in the pantheon of great cheeses. 🙂
Oh, man! Tillamook. *sigh*
Some day we should meet there and indulge in a dairy-fest, no? Grilled cheese sandwiches, followed by a brisk walk along the viewing halls, followed by large quantities of Tillamook ice cream. Oops, gotta run, I’ve drooled all over myself again. 😉
A most excellent post with great writing and humor.
And cheese, don’t forget lots and lots of cheese. Oh, yeah—*most* of my posts are full of *that*!!! 😉 Thanks. 😀
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