Someone To Eat Cheese With…

Four things are guaranteed in our apartment’s refrigerator at all times:

1)  Unsweetened soy milk;

2)  Bonne Maman jam;

3)  An odd array of half-utilized South Asian condiments; and

4)  Cheese.  Lots and lots of cheese.

Living in New York City not only provides endless, excellent options for cheese procurement, but also allows for easy access to something that, as a non-commercial kitchen consumer (though perhaps we should look into wholesale prices given the amount of cheese we nibble), I couldn’t have dreamed actually existed:


You never quite know what you’ll find at East Village Cheese, so it is best to not become too emotionally attached to the runny raw Muenster found in October or the particularly caramelized Gjetost bought last April.  East Village Cheese specializes in the high-end cheeses (as well as a variety of smoked and cured fish, olives, crackers and baked goods) that are nearing the end of their days.  And throngs of us are their very willing death panels.  Want some French feta, smoked sable and a day-old Sullivan Street Bakery loaf?  East Village Cheese’s your girl.  Not everything is a hit, but we’ve personally experienced very few misses.  We think of East Village Cheese as being our learning laboratory, choosing milk-laden goodness at random and never fearing a (cash only) bill over $10.00.

Other times, though, we want our favorites.  Perfectly ripened St. Felicien, Pleasant Ridge Reserve, Cypress Grove’s Midnight Moon…  These are the times when NYC really shines, as we are rarely less than a subway stop or two away from these old friends.  There is something comforting about falling asleep knowing that a perfect wedge is awaiting in your cheese box, anticipating greeting you the next day.

And then, there is the terror of discovering your darling fromage was viciously attacked by the unpracticed knife of a waifish cheese butcher in the middle of the night.  Thus is the fate that befell Johnny Weir’s cheese in Episode 3 of “Be Good Johnny Weir” — a program that might just contain more cooking segments than Food Network.

"Do you want some cheese?"

"I had some last night."


"Why do you cut it like this? I tell you every single time that I get this cheese you cut it like you don’t know anything. If you’re not going to eat the edges, then just cut them off and throw them away."

"There’s paper near the edges."

"There’s paper near the edges."

"You can eat it, but you never eat it. You always take it from the middle."

"It tastes like paper."

"You don’t eat the paper part. You get close. Here, let me show you."

"Where’s the paper? Eat it."

"It tastes like there’s paper close to it."

Johnny has been so kind as to agree to spend a few minutes with us before this afternoon’s Vancouver short program practice session to provide a tutorial on properly cutting cheese.  Take it away, Comrade Weir!

"His name is Camille - two 'l's. I think he's my evil side. When I cut cheese badly, I blame it on my glove.”


"Galina coached me on this one."


"Prijatno poznakomit'sa!"

"When properly cut, this is as beautiful as Oksana."

"You just dig into this little bitch."

"Ooh! Prijatnogo appetita, darling!"

"I like to think of this cheese as being Evan Lysacek's...chances at this year's Olympic gold medal! What did you think I was going to say?"

Paris, were you paying attention?

"La, La, La..."

How in the world did you end up being named “Paris” if you can’t properly cut cheese?


"La, La, La..."



Any last words, Johnny?



1 Comment»

[…] recipe without a few pit stops from the pan to my mouth.  The sweetness pairs well with the goat cheese, Parmigiano-Reggiano, fresh thyme and the crunchiness of the grissini.  While my friends are busy […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: