This week, tartiflettes:
That’s right, perceptive readers! No thin-as-prosciutto word games, no mildly unrelated photographs, just DRUNK CHEESE.Or in actuality, UBRIACO.
Or in its gloriously precise wine-sodden reality, FORMAIO EMBRIAGO.
Yes, my over-excited reblochons! An exciting cheese indeed, un fromage ivre, un queso borracho; un formaggio ubriaco! Do try to contain yourselves, I intend to elaborate and find it most difficult when I know that my readers are pawing at the screen like cannibals at a tanning salon. DECORUM, dear frites, is the key to gastronomy success.
AnyWHO, formaggio ubriaco is a cheese which has been wined and dined, enveloped and enrobed by the fruity must of cabernet and merlot grapes, après the wine pressing has concluded. The cheese is then left in beautiful union with the must, for several days, a week, a delirious honeymoon of cheese and wine, two substances meeting, growing intimately familiar, reading Dr. Zhivago to each other, listening to classical love arias and watching the bella notte section from Lady and the Tramp, before being cruelly separated from each other, compelled by the force of fate to live alone; purple rind the only memory of the ill-fated, but magical love affair… Tragic, mon oeufs, but beautiful nonetheless.
HOW Esther, I hear you ask, how did you discover this fromagian romance? I shall tell you; this morning, myself and a long-term confidante, Lumi Salmonchee, paid a visit to a wonderful delicatessen, taking with us dear Ricky, who has been moping rather of late after all the fumé in the press about his personal life. (Poor man, I don’t see why coming out as a vegetarian would be of such interest to the press…)
During our long perusal of the cheese counter, I espied the purple-washed elegance of the Embriago, resting amongst the other, happier cheeses, wearing its pathos bravely with its subtle hint of tragic grape. Ricky immediately identified with it, and demanded tearfully that we purchase some for lunch. Lumi seemed less eager, engrossed as she was in gnawing at a block of Applewood.
CAN you imagine my surprise, butterbeans, when I was handed a slice costing FIVE GUINEAS AND FIVE SHILLINGS?! Lumi, of course, threatened to tell my acquaintances of the extravagant purchase. She will not, however, since have a good quantity of blackmail material on her. (Always good practice, crumpets) You’ll be pleased to know that Ricky had a delightful lunch, and is currently napping in the hammock on the verandah. This afternoon, we intend to get the crossbows out, and play ‘Shoot the bagels hung from the butler’s coat’, before baking some cookies and watching re-runs of Doogie Howser, M.D.
Delightful. Until elevenses, sweet Eccles,