My battle-scarred ears perked up yesterday when The Man, Chef du jour because The Lady picked up a virus (no doubt a “gift” from one of the rug rats who invades the cheese kiosk because The Lady loves to give them cheese samples and at the same time begins the education of the “next generation of foodies”… but I’m not jealous… nope, not I…), brought out a wedge of Mature Cheddar from the Isle of Man.
In one of my previous lives, I spent a lovely summer on the Isle of Man with the mysterious Domitila who had recently arrived there after her ship, part of the Spanish Armada, had shipwrecked. All the felines took the opportunity to head for dry land and made the island their new homeland… and now you know which came first… the Island of Manx or the Manx cat… but I digress…
In addition to its claim to fame of the stubby tailed or tailless cats, the Isle of Man is home to a small cooperative of dairy farmers that produce award-winning cheeses, one being the Mature Cheddar that The Man used to top the burgers he grilled for lunch.
To read the rest of the story, please go to: Cheesemonger's Weblog.
