Cheese

I didn't foresee, Gentle Reader, that I should be writing today about cheese.  Of all things.  Rotten, solidified milk.  Ugh!  What could be more revolting!  But it isn't.  Cheese is...Wonderful.  Likely one of the most wonderful foods ever invented, ever since some thousands and thousands of years ago some camel jockey crossing the desert with a sack of milk ended up at the end of his journey with a bag full of... cheese.  I don't know how true or reliable this little story but it works for me.

At work today we talked about cheese, a very easy subject given that my co-worker is of Italian parentage.   He told me about an Italian cheese I have never heard of and cannot remember the name of and that it is like a cross between Asiago (my favourite) and Parmesan.  We also touched on the glories of Gorgonzola, that creamy aromatic Italian blue cheese.  We are agreed on cheese, that the older, the riper, the stinkier, the better.

I cannot imagine going a single day without cheese.  It is full of protein, calcium and all the B vitamins.  It is the ultimate comfort food.  What would Mac and grilled sandwiches be without cheese?  Someone, a supervisor where I work, had the colossal cheek to tell me that cheese is addictive.  Being my supervisor, I of course did not openly contradict him, though I have on occasion and for other reasons, but I politely shrugged and simply moved on.  Cheese?  Addictive?  No treatment or rehab for this cheddar chomper but keep me in harm reduction please!

I am a bit fussy about cheese.  I don't bother with the bland, low-cost flavourless garbage that passes as cheese in the supermarket coolers.  There is a lovely old cheddar that is economical that I buy in one of the budget supermarkets.  There is also the fragrant Asiago I purchase on Commercial Drive.  This can be particularly a challenge to come by.  It is hard to come by in Vancouver unless in overpriced cheese shops and deli sections and my budget simply cannot accommodate these places.  So, I have turned to the Bosa Market. 

I first became aware of the Bosa during the two years and four months that I lived on Victoria Drive and E. Pender, which placed me almost across the street.  Their prices and selection have always been, shall we say, competitive.  But they are never open on Sundays, Saturday is my rest day, and they always close at the ridiculously early hour of five-thirty.  I work during the day so it is hard to get there.  Except when I am working with any clients nearby, which I am these days.  So once a week, or every other week, when I finish working with my client, I have just enough time to walk a mile up the Drive and on a lovely side street to the Bosa where I make my purchase.  Then I walk back to Broadway, almost a mile and a half, where I get on the bus to see my next client.

Today I baked potato rounds in the oven for dinner.  When they were done I placed a slice of Asiago on each round, let it melt, then added garlic powder and soy sauce.  Salivate, darling.