Shortly after I fell in love with fancy cheese a while back, the NYT had a piece on the growing field of cheese sommeliers.*  mr. jolt turned to me and suggested a career change. I demurred.  For the same reason that mr. jolt would rather be a dilettante restaurant owner than a working chef,** I prefer to remain an amateur cheese lover.

For example, if I were a cheese sommelier, I would probably be required to taste all sorts of cheeses that I didn’t like that much simply to be able to advise the clientele at whatever cheesy place I worked at.  No fun at all.

And as much as cheese tastings could be fun on an occasional basis, the idea of becoming fully expert is somewhat daunting.  Not to mention, I’m sure I would annoy all my friends with irritating cheese suggestions.  Instead, I can give you, my readership, my little notes and thoughts about cheese, and recipes for food that includes cheese.  Much more satisfying.

Finally, I am worried about the possiblity of being too much of a connoisseur. I don’t want eating cheese to be like drinking too much pricy wine where I become unable to enjoy the cheese-equivalent of a good $10 bottle of table red.

So, while I may not be an expert in cheeses, you can rest assured that I do love cheese and I am fully committed to exploring and talking about cheese, in all its glorious forms.

*I have searched everywhere on the NYT site and elsewhere and cannot find this article.  It referred to cheese classes at Artisinal, a fabulous cheese-oriented restaurant in NYC.  If you ever are in NYC and have a chance to go, GO.  Get the cheese puff appetizers. Divine. You can get fabulous fondue and a la carte plates of cheese (and buy more to bring home).  Some people go there and actually just order steak or fish appetizers. Why?  I’ll never know.

**mr. jolt greatly enjoys cooking and once, in his youth, briefly aspired to be a chef and open his own restaurant.  Then, looking that the hideously long working hours (and all those holiday meals away from family) he decided that should he ever win the lottery (difficult since he refuses to play because it’s a regressive tax on the poor in his opinion) he would open a restaurant and have someone else do all the work so that he could float in from time to time, schmooze customers, and have excuses to fly everywhere to do wine tasting/buying trips.  Lovely fantasy, no?

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