I have a thing for cheese. Real cheese. Sharp, salty, creamy. I have a thing for cheddar in particular. Cheddar so sharp it smacks you in the mouth.
And it’s that love that keeps me walking warily down the dairy case, even at my local health food store, where I eye deplorable hunks of milky, rubbery, dull cheese. Me? I want something that sings.
When I find it, whether at the farmers market or at cheese shops, I pay a pretty penny for it. I judiciously parse it out, a sliver at a time. I pair it with all sorts of lovely things: walnuts, honey, marmalade, mostarda.
A few months ago, I padded my way down the dairy case once more, scoffing again at rubbery rectangles of plastic-bound cheeses, and found something different. There, wrapped in papery sealed parchment marked Kingdom Cheese, sat a wedge of handcrafted, organic sharp cheddar.
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