Today in New Zealand, it is Sunday, July 17.
It also happens to be my sister's birthday.
Join me in sending her some uplifting birthday vibes: Happy birthday, sis!
I first wrote the "Go-Cart Incident," in her honour, as a weekly assignment while attending SNHU.
It is now included in my book Bubble 'N' Squeak.
https://penmenreview.com/the-go-cart-incident/
It’s about time I came out of the kitchen pantry and declared who I am. Hmmm...caseophile, fromagophile, or turophile?
Huh?
Do you like your cheese?
I do.
Me too. Have so since I was a lad.
A little context…
At Oratia Primary School in West Auckland, my mum would always pack me a Marmite and grated cheese sandwich. It lasted a few seconds as I devoured it during lunch break. We also had a potbellied stove in our kitchen, and on cold winter evenings, she would toast up, inside it, grilled cheese and onion sandwiches with a quicksie iron. As soon as the sandwiches had slightly cooled, we inhaled them (after Mum refereed the inevitable fight my sister and I would have over who would be first).
With my own daughters, cheese was also a part of their diet—quesadillas, sandwiches, melting on rice—and their entertainment too. Many an afternoon was spent watching VHS copies (VH what?) of Wallace and Gromit. Fans of this British stop-motion comedy show will know that Wallace was particularly fond of his Wensleydale cheese.
Of late, I have been on a cheese-consuming kick, and decided to wade through the “whey” too many videos on YouTube concerning this dairy product. I don’t know if it was because of the fromage gods, Little Miss Muffet, or a Swiss-cheese-like hole in YouTube metrics, but one of the first sites I came across was:
Rufus Eats Cheese.
I had taken enough Latin at Kelston Boys’ High School to recognize the source of the name, and was impressed by the unpretentioness of the channel’s title. However, the drunk monkey musings of my mind did come up with…while…playing the harmonica; riding a unicycle; singing songs in Yiddish.
No.
As Rufus states in the ABOUT section of his channel, “I am partial to odd crumb of cheese now and again and thought it time I launched a YouTube channel, well, basically about me eating cheese. It's riveting!”
It is.
For me, part of that is due to the decorum I find so appealing in British people regardless of their position in society. I saw it in my nana (originally from Rotherham, UK; RIP), most famously in Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, and I see it in Rufus.
It is also the earnestness (we agree, Mr. Wilde) with which Rufus eats cheese. His cheese board might as well be a round table and he, Merlin engaging in some mystic experience.
His process is so captivating: cut a slice of cheese, many of which are recommendations from his audience; smell the cheese, describe it, taste it, and comment on it.
For me, the “odd crumb of cheese now and again” is blue cheese, and the first video I watched was “Episode 7.” Thirty-five seconds in, I became a diehard fan when Rufus uttered the following words: “We are in the presence of aristocracy. This is the great Roquefort, a French cheese that we believe has been made since 1050.”
1050. Cool, but the word-nerd, the writer, the logophile in me was on cheese board with that comparison. Never, ever would I have thought of combining the words “aristocracy” and “cheese” in the same sentence.
It’s riveting.
It is.
For me, another experience that comes into play when I watch Rufus’s videos is I recognize when he is transported to “That Place.” We’ve all been there: for me it’s after the Air New Zealand plane has landed in Auckland and I immediately visit one of my favourite fish ’n’ chip shops. As soon as I take my first bite of fried fish, I close my eyes and surrender to the taste…“That Place.”
When Rufus closes his eyes with a mouthful of cheese, my imagination starts to engage: he is transported to the pastoral region where the cheese is made. He sees the cow/sheep/goat from whom the milk will be taken to make the dairy product—the grass it’s eating—the gentle breeze flowing—the position of the sun—the birds flying overhead—even the barking of the farm dog in an adjacent paddock. “That Place.”
There are also several charming episodes where Louisa, Rufus’s daughter, joins her father in the presentation.
It’s riveting.
It is.
After watching a video, I’m off to Erewhon Market, Studio City to purchase a cheese. My very first, post Episode 7, was an English Stilton.
Yes, Rufus: also aristocratic.
Oh, and for the record: turophile.
🥝🥝🥝🥝
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcLbNNJC0iDumi7rspgz3Cw
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