In the Spirit of Cheese

For our anniversary, Bryan gave me a beautiful golden battle axe on a chain. It is lovely and looks like it was made by wee druids. It also has some grape looking things on it. Hmmm...I think I might just post a picture. Because what I really want to talk to you about tonight is cheese.

I am a person who can be relied upon to like certain things and dislike certain other things. I like to believe that it's comforting to everyone to know that Jesslyn genuinely believes in astrology and hates carrots. (Well, for a very long time I hated carrots. And then I got pregnant and all I wanted to eat for 7 square meals a day was carrots. So that's blown now. But I used to be like an old timey prohibitionist lady when it came to carrots.) I can also be relied upon to like Alan Rickman and dislike alcoholic beverages, except when incorporated into a dessert or pasta sauce. And I adore cheeses. My love for cheese is the mighty rock that you can tie your little craft to in the high seas during a storm.

Tonight, as we sat in the fancy restaurant that you go to when you're on a date with your husband for your anniversary, flanked by 2 obviously rich ladies who had just been to Paris and two men (one of whom had a lightning bolt tattooed on his face) who were securing some kind of business transaction, Bryan and I quietly indulged in some olives and cheeses. Bryan is the perfect person to share a cheese sampler with because he secretly doesn't care for cheeses, and I'm the person to share an olive sampler with because I secretly don't care too much about olives. But Bryan would tightrope walk across a baby pool full of crocodiles and venomous jellyfish to get at a barrel of assorted Greek olives with weird spicy things floating around amongst them. And I would trade my home for walk in cooler full of assorted aged cheeses. I think Bryan, Odessa, Ruby, Robin, Zucchini and I could be very comfortable in a nice walk in cooler, so long as we had cozy sweaters.

Anyway, I thought I was going to talk about cheese, but it's 11:26, and I'm too sleepy to muster up the energy required to do justice to the brave Pecorino, the soft, temperate Coulommiers, and her majesty, the 4 year old aged Gouda with the little crunchy crystals in embedded within. However, know that this blog post was written in the spirit of cheese, for the benefit of cheeses everywhere.

And with that, bonsoir.