In my last posting, I blogged about the American Cheese Society Conference which took place over three days at the Sheraton. Well, there's more. Yes, more cheesy nuggets.
Saturday night I drove yet more cheeseheads, excuse me, attendees, one of whom informed me of a glorious event scheduled for 10am the following morning: After the competition is over, apparently the participating cheese-makers have lots of product left over that they don't want to repack with dry ice, etc., and lug back to from whence they came. So, there will be a sale to the public, with all the fancy-schmancy cheeses at a buck a pop!
Like most normal humans, I covet a high quality cheese.Sometimes at the supermarket I'll browse the deli section and gaze longingly at the exotic cheeses with the foreign names and try to imagine the subtle, nuanced flavors fermenting, tantalizing beneath the white wrappers. I never, however, pick one up to buy, because I simply refuse to pay $8.75 for a food product the size of a cigarette lighter.
I showed up this morning (Sunday) at the Sheraton. Around the back, just outside the conference center, was a large white tent. In the parking lot sat more Volvo's, BMW's and Saab's than you'd see at a Judy Collins concert. This blow-out - heavily discounted "artisan" cheeses - was like distribution day at the Food Shelf for upper middle-class white people.
Inside the tent was a huge rectangle of brown folding tables stacked with cheese, cheese and more cheese. As you entered, everyone was given an official yellow bag. A woman who looked like a summer camp coach kept announcing: Not yet! Not yet! No shopping until 10 o'clock sharp. Two more minutes, people! Two more minutes!"
When the bell sounded, it was like the old TV show, "Supermarket Sweep" or the California Gold Rush of 1849. Sheep that I am, I got totally swept up in the mania and ultimately left with enough cheese to vault my cholesterol to Code Red.
I've been eating cheese now all afternoon. I've eaten too much cheese. I'm bloated.