Cheese

Remember that time I jokingly suggested I was going to write about cheese? And you all thought, sure you will Kaycee – you know absolutely nothing about cooking so how on earth could you write about cheese? You couldn’t even name a dozen cheeses, let alone write at length about the different aromas, rinds, textures and tastes of them.

And you would be right internet, you would be right.

But I’ve got cheese on my mind. So get ready.

Why cheese?

Well, for starters – I smell like cheese. This is not a metaphor. I actually smell like cheese. That is my current aroma. Cheese by Dairy Product.

Now how does one go about bottling this scent?

First, you go to Switzerland and you eat raclette. The raclette will be good, the smell will be less so. Second, you will not shower the day after raclette because you are getting on a plane and will want to shower when you get home anyway. Third, you will not shower when you get home because you are too tired and tell yourself you will shower in the morning. Fourth, you won’t be able to shower in the morning because for some inexplicable reason your hot water isn’t working. Finally, you will be forced to go to work only 36 hours removed from the cheese soaking process.

On the one hand, I like smelling like cheese.

For one, it reminds me of Switzerland. It reminds me of taking a cable car to the top of a mountain and looking across Zurich’s skyline. It reminds me of eating marroni with my friends who are going back to Canada. It reminds me of sharing smiles with a beautiful, blond Swiss boy in Old Town. It also just makes me happy to think that when the rest of the world was presented with a grill – they threw meat on it. The Swiss? They thought of another way to make cheese a meal.

On the other hand, smelling like cheese is the worst.

On a hygienic level – not the best. Thankfully, I work in a cafe so the scent of cheese isn’t exactly out of place though certainly no more cleanly. But mostly smelling like cheese reminds me that there is no heat in my flat again because life is cruel. Or at least Edinburgh plumbing is shit. Regardless, holidays are great for exploring but less so for sleep. So waking up at 5:30am to an ice-cold shower where you can only stand to shampoo your hair is not awesome. In fact, it tends to lead to irrational anger. And that irrational anger leads to the kind of thoughts where you start to wonder what on earth you are doing with your life…

Again.

So logically this existential crisis that comes in the wee hours of morning on the cold, rainy walk to work smelling like fermented milk and recycled airplane air can only be solved by one thing – more cheese.

More specifically, brown cheese. The cheese that your friends brought back for you at Christmas from Norway. It will make you feel both happy and sad. And then you’ll come home and sit in a vortex of happy and sad while you eat and smell of cheese. And you’ll wonder how every relationship you’ve ever had seems to get so complicated – even one with cheese.

Then inevitably you’ll start to feel a bit crazy and wonder why you are both romanticizing and being weirdly sensitive about cheese, when really being lazy has simply backfired in your face…

But ultimately less crazy than you will feel sitting in a one-quarter full bathtub of boiling kettle water that took over an hour to fill but will be lukewarm before you even get in.

And this has been a blog about cheese.

You’re welcome.

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