My wife and I are going to visit Cheesetique, a cheese speciality shop, in Alexandria tomorrow.
I am a cheeseaholic. I love cheese.
Gouda? Yum. Goat cheese? You betcha. Raw milk Camebert? Oh yes. Roquefort? Yeah!!
Right now, I’m fantasizing about a Limberger cheese and liverwurst sandwich, on rye, with strong onion, hot mustard and an ice-cold pilsner beer.
Yum.
Well, that’s it… auntie em will be leaving me for you, Bricker. You’re likely a bit too conservative for her; and she might not love the fact that you have a wife, but I’m thinking a good cheese affair will overrule those things. Especially if you love brie as she does. 
Jarlsberg is one of the most wonderful words this cheese lover can hear.
Seconded. Jarlsberg is to swiss what vermont cheddar is to american cheese.
I just went to my husband’s fave Italian joint down in San Gabriel (Petrillo’s for the curious) and had a lovely anti pasto salad there. The smoked provolone it contained was nothing short of marvelous.
If you’re talking about those god-awful Kraft singles in cling wrap, that’s not cheese. I don’t care what anyone says. American cheese is not cheese.
My dad occassionally gets huge wheels of incredibly aged Cheddar cheese and gives me a wedge. Of course, my children don’t have the experienced palates to enjoy it, so I get to eat it all by myself.
And your wife will kiss you after such a meal? :eek:
Bricker, my man, you have got to visit France someday. There is no country more cheese-happy on the face of the earth. You’ll love it.
Of course, the down side is, you’ll have to deal with the, you know, French, but hey no place is perfect! 
[Looney Tunes]I love cheese…really I do.[/Looney Tunes]
Thankfully you don’t belong to the vast majority of Hispanics who suffer from lactose intolerance. I do. :mad: But that never stopped me from enjoying cheese.
I was in Italy a couple of years back and couldn’t resist the restaurant offer of a plate with a sample of 15 different types of Italian cheeses. Boy, did I fumigate Rome after that! My mom, bless her little heart, has just brought me a year supply of Lactase pills from the states since it is impossible to find here.
The point is, I **love **cheese, and I have no qualms in endangering the well-being of my fellow humans to continue enjoying my addiction.
If you love cheese, this place in Longmont, CO would be like Disney Land for you.
They have the little bistro and retail shop out front where you can buy sandwiches, condiments, several varities of imported olives (fresh!)…all manner of imported specialty foods.
THEN there is the refrigerated warehouse. They even loan you a quilted jacket to wear. The place is HUGE. Cheeses from all over the world…most of which they have samples for. Biggest selection I have ever seen.
I left with an entire brown paper bag of cheeses last time I went. Yum!
I second the first bit - France has the most fabulous cheeses on the planet.
As for the French: the normal people are wonderful. They’re just like people everywhere else; if your treat them courteously, they respond in kind. Their politicial and intellectual elites, however, are a different species altogether.
Lest it not be clear, let me state that my jab at the French people was in jest.
I once took a bike tour through the back country of France and it was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. The country folk there are like country folk most everywhere, I’d guess. Nice, friendly people who are glad to see the occasional tourist.
For 5 years, I worked the counter of the gourmet cheese department at an upscale deli.
Like giving a junkie a job in a head shop. My friends and I tried every single cheese, we wrote songs and poems about cheese, we told cheese jokes and stories, pulled cheese pranks, dreamed about cheese…
Cheese! Cheeeeeeeeeeese!
Oh - I’m going to eat some RIGHT NOW!
Yum. 
The country folk there are lovely! I spent some time travelling through Southern France a few years ago - the warmth and hospitality were wonderful.
This puts me in mind of an anecdote about a friend of mine. He was adopted by a middle aged-couple; the father was a WWII vet who served in the liberation of France. Ever since the war, he had felt that the French didn’t appreciate what the U.S. had done - and he harbored some bitterness.
His unit had planned a reunion for the 50th anniversary celebrations in France. The dad did not want to go - but his son convinced him, and accompanied him on the trip. They travelled to the little town where the unit was holding its rendez-vous and stopped at a little cafe for lunch. Their waitress was a woman in her early twenties. Upon discovering that the dad had served in WWII, she thanked him warmly and profusely. The dad broke into tears. He’d finally heard the thanks he’d wanted for decades. He also realized that he had been wrong to attribute the political attitudes to the “average” French people.
My daughter and I visited our local cheese factory, where my aunt works, yesterday. Picked up about 4 pounds of 4 year old cheddar, and some 18 month old swiss. Just to keep the stock up.
In our fridge, I find a pound of 9 year old cheddar, 2 pounds of 8 year old cheddar, and some rather bland 2 year old cheddar. A little baby swiss, some norwegian brown goat cream cheese (gjetost), some limburger spread (had to toss it, it had gone over), some feta, a bit of Stilton, and a pound of parmesan, cut from a larger wheel, estimated at only 1 year old. Oh, and a variety of cream cheese for bagels, etc.
I hadn’t realized our stocks were so low! The cheddar should last us a few weeks (I’m waiting for the really old stuff to hit 10 years of age before serving) but we’re out of gorgonzola, bufalo mozzarella, and chevre! What will I do?
Get thee back to the Cheese Shoppe!
Right now I’m eating some Port-Salut which is my new favorite cheese. Until the next time I eat cheese at which point that will be my new favorite.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.
Damn you people. I’m on a diet!
One of the coolest parts of going to London was seeing the cheese counters at Harrod’s. They seemed to have thousands of different kinds. We sampled a bunch and bought a bunch . Our cheese platter-with-red-grapes (bought at the tube station fruit stand) was the best meal of my vacation.
You what’s hard to find around here? A really good port wine cheddar. I abhor the stuff in little plastic tubs. It’s better to eat no cheese than bad cheese.