ACTUAL CHEESE WONDERLAND

The Co-Op had Cathedral City Extra Mature Cheese on special offer yesterday, so I bought a block of it.

I don’t want to turn this into an advert, (other cheeses are available) but I do feel as though I might have somehow floated on succulent wings into actual cheese wonderland.

Man alive this cheese is good!

It’s soft and subtle, potent and creamy, indescribably rich and sultry, like being gently caressed by angels while they sing you to sleep on a feather bed.

Last night I made cheese and tomato on toast. Lightly toasted slices of tomato on Warburtons bread, covered by thick flat wages of golden cheese. It melted just enough to hug the toast like a glistening blanket.

Then tonight I had it for supper again  - on a bed of Marmite and hot buttered toast. I may never be able to return to normal cheese again.

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“Sorry I’m late,” I flustered. I threw off my coat and jacket and draped them over the back of my chair. I’d left the house so quickly I hadn’t even realised that I’d been wearing two jackets under my coat. Who does that?

Anyway, with the wait for buses, I was super-late for work, arriving at just the moment I was supposed to be presenting something to some Americans. My coat slipped off the chair and onto the floor as I switched on my laptop. Moments later, my head was inside PowerPoint and I was striding purposefully towards the meeting room.

I don’t recommend presenting stuff while your mind is still half dreaming about last night’s cheese supper. I was professional, of course, but also... not wholly there. Thankfully there were no yellow pie charts in my slide deck.

Later, someone told me in no uncertain terms that cheese has no effect on dreams. I really think it does. My mind was a whirligig this morning - a carousel of imagination. I have no idea what I dreamt but it was outlandish and beautiful and hilarious. Surely only cheese could have fired up the synapses like that?

“No, it’s all psychological, Matt.”

But if I can’t help being influenced when I eat cheese, I thought, what actually is the difference? Chemical in the cheese, or chemical in the brain that recognises the cheese? The effect is the same! And every time I eat cheese at night, I end up in wonderland.

Actual cheese wonderland. Oh my. I can still taste it. Washed down with a mug of Cadbury’s hot chocolate (no rum this winter) I feel as full as a medieval king.

Of course, medieval kings don’t have to get up the day after a banquet to present their work to visiting Americans. Neither do they have to run down the hill with indigestion, wearing a coat and two jackets because they overslept due to cheese-induced night-time imaginings. It occurs to me now that I really ought to make sure I’ve set my alarm properly.