I’m a cheese lover. I eat it every which way: on bread, on crackers, on apples, on pasta, on toast, on pizza, on its own. And I don’t discriminate; I like all types of cheeses – hard cheeses, soft cheeses, crumbly cheeses, mild cheeses, sharp cheeses, and just plain stinky cheeses. I lived in both France and the Netherlands and was thoroughly spoiled for the choicest cheeses in both locations.
America has some incredible cheeses (like Vermont white cheddar and Californian Monterey jack, with its pepper jack varieties). But, America also has some cheeses that truly challenge the definition of cheese, like nacho cheese sauce, individually wrapped cheese slices, and Easy Cheese, which comes in an aerosol can and doesn’t require refrigeration. Now that’s classy.
There have been moments when I am genuinely confused as to whether I am eating cheese or plastic. It is more the IDEA of cheese rather than cheese itself, sort of like how the banana flavor (and bright yellow color) used in candies doesn’t actually taste (or look) like banana, but somehow serves as an abstract representation of banana which you come to know and accept. Likewise with cheese: if it’s orange and it melts, it must be cheese, right?