Excerpts from an Amateur British Cheese Diary

Excerpts from an Amateur British Cheese Diary

Leicester: From Amber Valley Farms, in Derbyshire, UK.  Pronounced “Lester,” not “Lie-Chester,” like a creepy pedophile and not a dog command.  Orange. I mean, like, super orange. Orange road cone orange. Dorito-ey fingers orange. The kind of orange where if someone was like, “Dude, name the most orange thing ever!” You’d have to answer “Leicester cheese!” or you’d be lying. Tastes like cheddar, probably. But then again, what doesn’t? Makes grilled cheese sandwiches you’re gonna want to take home to meet mom and dad, and then make out with in the basement.

Stilton Blue: From Tuxford and Tebbutt Farms, in Shropshire, UK.  Called the King of Cheese, though I wonder if that means straight up Despotism, a sort of My Little Pony-type Constitutional Monarchy where all the royal family does is shake people’s hands and get their drug-addled lazy-eyed pictures in The Daily Mail, or “King” in the way that there’s a Burger King. Or a Dr. Pepper.  Crumbles great for salads, not so great if all you want is to yank a chunk of it off in the fridge to eat whole and it starts snowing into the vegetable drawer.  Blue shit in it, whatever that is.  Mold or something.

White Stilton with Cranberries: Long Clawson Dairy Co., Kent, UK.  This cheese is if someone Pretty Womaned Stilton Blue, scrubbed out that prostitute smell and blue veinie shit that looks like my old piano teacher’s crossed legs, and sexed it up with some sexy-ass fruit.  It’s like how if you watch two Monty Python sketches in a row, and in the first John Cleese is a crotchety old hag with stockings bunched up at the knees, and in the next he’s a tall, angular looking handsome 30-something.  What I’m trying to say is, the Brits are kind of fruity, and so are their cheeses.  This bitch really classes up a slice of Korean pear on a water cracker.  Or a dollop of Ranch dressing on a Wheat Thin.

Huntsman: Long Clawson Dairy, Melton Mowbray, Leicestershire, UK.  If Stilton and Double Gloucester had really dirty drunk sex one night after a three-day-long bender involving nothing but Strongbow and powdered caffeine, Double Gloucester got pregnant, and then the two of them realized that they’re actually first cousins on their moms’ sides, the product would be Huntsman.  It’s not the sort of sexy offspring you’d get if Brad Pitt knocked up a pair of jeggings, but more like what was left of the Plantagenets after centuries of inbreeding – narrow eyes and a whole lot of syphilis.  Huntsman is the cheese that changed its mind.  Good on the couch, while crying and watching Sleepless in Seattle.

Shropshire: Shropshire is a Scottish cheese, and smells like the crusty stuff forming under your aunt’s arm wobblies.  And it takes like if you mixed that crusty stuff up with some mayo.  This blue cheese is so sharp, you should warn small children not to run with it.  It’s so bitter, it still won’t talk to the girl who wore the same dress as it to Senior Prom.  It burns like vodka without the pleasant loss of inhibitions.  Might make good wall spackle.

Katie Sisneros