Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen


Apparently spuddragon says this word when he means "Wake up!"

I am less nauseated than I was, and I feel popular. Also I am incognito as Mike Ford. I'll bet you didn't know that's what a Mike Ford sweatshirt does! It makes you indistinguishable from Mike Ford. Or so I assume; obviously it wouldn't work from the inside, and this sweatshirt is too small for anyone else in the house to demonstrate for me. markgritter suggested that he could tell me from Mr. Ford readily, but I think this is because I have a key to the house and am much more likely to take out our recycling.

I would blame this on weariness, but I started proclaiming myself incognito when I first put the sweatshirt on around 11:30 this morning.

Someone wanted me to talk about cheese. I'm not sure that's a good idea, as we may have finished off the Dubliner with supper, and I'm almost sure we don't have anything better. I have previously been a hard, sharp cheese person (the hardness and sharpness are traits of the cheese, not the Mris). What I really want right now is a 9-year cheddar. A 6-year would do. Aged gouda would do. Roomano would do. But in general, times that are not the middle of the night, I am starting to like squishier, stinkier cheeses than I used to do. Gorgonzola was always the wedge in the door, because who can dislike gorgonzola? (Answer: C.J. I went overboard with the gorgonzola the first time I made gorgonzola-mushroom risotto, and something tasted funny to Ceej, so he reached for the Nice Cheese to dampen the funny taste. And found the three of us staring at him, astonished that this dish could be insufficiently gorgonzolaed for even the most ardent admirer. He took a bite and understood our expressions, and now he will not eat gorgonzola.) (He used to claim not to be a picky eater, but then he started eating at my house and discovering all sorts of things he doesn't like. It's very easy not to be picky when you do all your own cooking and buy things you know you enjoy.)

Anyway, after gorgonzola, there was cambozola, which is not precisely nice but certainly its own kind of good, and I am not always attached to nice when it comes in opposition to good. And then allochthon took us out for dinner and bought a brie thing that was crusted with nuts, and while I thought I knew I hated brie, I also knew that I love nuts, and that turning your nose up at food without trying it is silly and rude if you don't have some good reason to know you don't like it. So I tried it, and apparently I do like some brie. I even bought some brie of my very own last month.

When we lived in California, I could never find sharp enough cheddars at the grocery store. It was very sad. We had to go to TJ's to get cheese at all, and even then -- well, when you go to a store just for cheese, you want it to be Surdyk's. And while TJ's has some advantages over Surdyk's (chocolate raspberry sticks! walnut gorgonzola ravioli!), the cheese was not on a par.

I do not eat gjetost. Lappi is like mozzarella for me: useful as an ingredient, not for munching separately. I bought a five-layer wedge of British cheeses last month and devoured it on slices of Granny Smith apple. Usually I would hum to myself during this process, because it was so good, and there were five! different! cheeses! All in one! Oh, it was good. Also I like manchego, and the kind with the ashes in the middle. I forget whether I like drunken goat. I think I should try it again now that I am not so opposed to smooshiness in a cheese.
Tags: so juicy sweeeeet, stupid vertigo

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