i wanted to give the new fondue pots a whirl with some friends this weekend, so i went to my favorite grocery store in the universe: bristol farms.
now, i don't normally shop at bristol farms because A) i feel like i have to dress up to go there and B) it's fucking expensive. but this trip was necessary as they have THE MOST AMAZING cheese section ever.
(wow, i just realized, but i love to use hyperbole more than anyone else on the planet!)
anyhow, i had finished picking up my gruyere and emmental, and was about to select a nice sharp white vermont cheddar, when the cheesemonger asked me if i needed some help . . .
i didn't really need any help (no wisecracks, ok?), but i wanted to make her feel useful, so i asked her what she thought about mixing the vermont cheddar with an irish dubliner . . .
tossing her head back and cackling, the cunt says, "the cheese's nationality doesn't matter. you can mix an american cheese with an irish one, no problem. you want to focus on flavors, and DUMBLINGER with cheddar should be fine."
well, no shit the cheeses' "nationalities" don't matter! i was asking whether or not the cheddar's sharp tang would mix well with the DUBLINER'S nuttiness, snobby bitch . . .
"dumblinger."
i tell you, it's a wonder i haven't already killed someone.
5 comments:
looks like I am visitor 666 today.
...couldn't be happier.
Haha..haha.ha
:-)
You may be able to help me with a question I have.
I would love to be able to add cheesemonger to my resume
Irish cheese, good on you!
Did you know the great Sam used to work in an Irish cheese factory in the summer? I sold shoes to golfers. They were great days.
sam? our sam? (well, ok, mostly "your" sam, but i'm claiming him too these days . . .) he made cheese?!?!
and you sold shoes to golfers . . .
i could insert a very lame joke about smells here, but i'll refrain.
let's see, we're all about the same age . . . early 30s (right?) . . . what was i doing back in the day?
oh, yeah, working at universal studios hollywood for minimum wage ($4.25/hour) . . . yeah, i was raking in the dough. actually, no, but like you and the great sambino (if you guys liked baseball, you'd get that), i likewise had great days (still do!).
ps: stellar italy photos!!! if writing doesn't work out, i think you've definitely got a future in pictures. hey, maybe sambino would take you in? just a thought . . .
your sam? his sam? anyone else want a piece of me?
I remember my cheese making days with great fondness - the best of times. Ah, the stench, the noise, the way the acid made the skin on my hands peel, the time I directed a truck through a wall, the time I almost came to an untimely demise beneath 3 tonnes of cheese... Were we but able to experience those days again and again...
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