Laughing Matters: The One About Cheese

By Ryan G. Van Cleave |  Illustrations by Darcy Kelly-Laviolette

Maybe it’s because I was born in Wisconsin, but I love cheese. Just the other day, I went to Culver’s simply because it’s one of the few places where I can get cheese curds. I mean, c’mon. Who doesn’t get excited about deep-fried cheese clumps that squeak off your teeth when you chomp into them?

With that glorious snacking moment in mind, I offer you some decidedly cheesetastic musings. *Odor not included.

1: Casu Marzu, a.k.a. Maggot Cheese. Yep, it’s a real thing. I learned about this monstrosity years back on a Travel Channel TV show called Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern (still in production as of this writing). Flies lay eggs inside this cheese. When the maggots emerge, they chomp their way out, leaving holes en route to their freedom. The people of Sardinia consider this a delicacy, and if any maggots still remained? Even yummier (allegedly).

I, however, do not find the idea of Casu Marzu appealing. It strikes me as being about as tasty-looking as, say, the laces on an old pair of Chuck Taylors, or perhaps the passenger-side headrest of my 2015 Kia Optima.

2: President Andrew Jackson, a.k.a. Old Hickory (love that nickname!), was given a cheese wheel some four feet in diameter, two feet thick, and clocking in at 1,400 pounds. It sat around for two years before he realized he’d have to deal with it. So, he set it out at his last public reception in the White House and invited all visitors to have some. The massive mountain of cheese was gone in less than two hours—no joke. (The clingy reek of two-year old cheese, though, stuck around for years afterwards, I hear.)

I tried the same thing at a Van Cleave Game Night some years back. I put out a can of Pringles Restaurant Cravers Cheeseburger for my gaming guests because it’d been sitting around so long that it was near its expiration date. Unlike President Jackson, my food situation did not get solved. Come midnight when the guests left, I still had 90% of those foul chips—sorry, “potato crisps”—left.

Good thing, too, since the product was recalled a few weeks later thanks to a salmonella possibility. I think that was the cover story by Proctor & Gamble to get people past the idea that any company on earth could possibly put out such a vulgar, yucky product as the can of whatever-it-was that I tried to perpetrate upon my poor guests who just wanted a little food to go with their Trivial Pursuit marathon.

3: Brieoncé.

4: On some random Buzzfeed page, I read that Cheddar cheese is never naturally orange. WTF? That’s like saying Donald Trump isn’t naturally orange either.

I don’t believe it. You shouldn’t either!

5: What do you call a cheese that isn’t yours? Nacho cheese.

6: If the majority of cheese is grown and cultivated in a cheese cave, what’s the story with a man cave?

7: My daughter just came into the room, read points 1 through 6 over my shoulder, then declared, “You know a lot about cheese. You’re a cheese wiz!” The funniest part is she had no idea why I laughed. Makes sense. I ate the stuff in college when I was too poor to care and too dumb to know better, but it’s been forever since I’ve bought a jar of Cheez Whiz, that shelf-stable, super-processed stuff that has 0.0% cheese in it.

Now plenty of Philly folks will say “Whiz wit” is the only way to order a cheesesteak. But I still have a hard time getting past how when it cools, it forms a shellac-like coating that summons to mind the image of ochre-colored tar. Sure, it can help you pick up a whole clump of French fries in one grab. But is it worth it? Really?

8: Mice don’t like cheese. They much prefer fruits, grains, or nuts. And sometimes, as evident from the goings-on in my neighbor’s attic, foamy insulation.

9: Nicolby Kidman.

10: The official name for a seller of cheese is “cheesemonger.” Last week, I sold my old iPhone. Does that make me an applemonger?

11: Chèvre Chase.

12: “That’s what cheese said.” (It’s a joke from The Office. Sort of.)

13: Sweet dreams are made of brie.

Who am I to diss a brie?

I cheddar the world and the feta cheese.

Everybody’s looking for stilton.

Have your own cheese-related gripe? Want to make your case why mascarpone should be considered a cream versus a cheese? Need to get a gouda tragedy off your chest? Is it time for you to confess how you cleared an airport terminal thanks to a thick slice of well-aged Comté?

If any of those questions apply to you, go ahead and email ryan@sarasotascene.com with the 411. And remember—please share your most terrific cheese stories with me. If you don’t, I’m not sure I camembert it.