In the footsteps of Jerome to. Jerome

Historically, the janny lovers of cheese were still the French remain. General Charles de Gaulle, by rumors, was upset: "How can I manage the country in which the same varieties of cheese, how many days a year!". Indeed, it is not easy, especially if you consider that in fact this figure is more significant – about 500, not believing that in every peasant economy they prepare their cheese, which often does not even have the name.

Breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant was performed by a calm pomp: among the scarlet velvet and snow-white tablecloths were broken by hot and cold buffets, fresh groces were spreading teapots and coffee pots, a fruit slide, decorated with alive flowers, fragraded the tropics. That’s just it seems, in the tropics of these someone died. Three years ago. And rather large. The threatening smell was a dense cloud until the middle of the Big Hall, overlapping and fried bacon, and banana pudding. Shocked by the mismatch of the smell, I sat down at the opening window, and in this perspective in front of me immediately appeared the source of shocks: the cheese table!

This construction is considered a business card of the institution – a restaurant or cafe. Powerful marble counter on which wooden thick boards are decomposed, on which the rows of outcropped balls, heads, disks, pyramids and holes are laid out. Set of knives – from giganic to the most modest. Everyone cuts himself as much as he wants, masterly flying only by knives. Impressive plates to be shipped to sliced ​​pieces. I saw with my own eyes a thin and voiced franior of tiny growth, which barely conceded my plastic to the table, in three floors laid slices of cheese, and blinded all this good for some 20 minutes. What is surprising, her fluttering gait after such breakfast did not change at all!

The average Frenchman eats a year from 15 to 23 kg of cheese – more than anyone else in the world. In the country of France to cheese, sinning is treated as a food product. It is rather ritual affiliation, and the descendants of Galov are experiencing almost religious ecstasy, knitting "Froza" all colors, species and consistency. They could go to the war in the British for their habit there are cheese after Sweet, if they were not so absorbed in their own – true – national love for cheese.

A few days later I was still imbued with universal cheese reverence. And he almost got sick with the smell, – on the market of curiosity even went along the cheese row, quietly breathing his mouth and sportingly shattered from the colorful pieces extended to me. In general, it was ready to try "present". Previously find out from the experts, which of the cheeses of the least stuffy, cut off three thin slice – white, yellow and orange. Sketched from above more lettuce leaves so that in case of what to hide rejected. It turned out – edible! Even tasty. Orange, however, there was some kind of sour sharpness, leaving a bad aftertaste. The following approach was scheduled for dinner. By that time, I was already getting rid of one of my prejudices – the French wine is not acidic at all, but dry. Great wine. I will drink to them cheese – it is so in French! But pleasures did not work: I grabbed what is called, a piece is not in itself. Invisible with the form, it turned out to be quite disgusting. And outside almost there was a smell, but hitting the mouth, it broke out with such an aroma and so I planted in the tongue that I felt in a falling someone of the decompanying flesh. I had to hastily wrap a napkin to spit and pack in it. Squeeze the wine, getting a dental taste and clean the dental fabric, and the nightmares dreamed of all night.

I have never swear with a hangover-free severity, never there is more cheese. However, violated an oath on the same day on a small farm, where guests were offered home cheese – small creamy balls swam in a deep clay bowl, coated with milk brine. There are them relied on a special round spoon with holes. They were delicious to taste, and the almond hack was hid inside each ball. Just delight! And it doesn’t seem for cheese.

In the footsteps of Jerome to. Jerome

Having done the philosophical conclusion that cheese cheese is mounted, but they don’t argue about tastes, I was comforted by what, apparently, I have not met yet "That is" Cheese, who would make my eyes burn, and beat my eyes more often. Here Mother Mother, for example, knows a lot about the cheese and told her to bring her the most French, "And so that the mold was thicker". I conscientiously chose the most frightening cheeses and asked to wrap them as best as possible, so as not to smell. The bundle turned out to be impressive: I stuck cheese into several polyethylene packages on top of the branded boxes and shopping packaging, shifting them with newspapers. And at first it seemed to me that the smell was almost blocked, and I again enjoyed life.

Cheese showed her stinky essence in the plane. And not only mine: Flight from Paris was to supply gas masks! Irresponsible passengers scored as much cheese and French perfume, which immediately themselves "Refreshing", that the air in the cabin of the aircraft turned into a natural SMRArad. Unperturbable faces of flight attendants caused sincere respect. In Sheremetyevo meeting accurately went to our flight by smell.

Cheese treasure still had delivery by car to the Mama Table. Ten hours of the path – I will not go with him in one car! Cheese was impolitely tied to the roof trunk. Plugged by the oncoming wind, he almost no smell. On the border of one of the southern regions of the pair of DPS inspectors stopped our car for inspection. The inspection was the most careful, according to all the rules, but nothing suspicious, including weapons and narcotic drugs, it was not possible to detect. Almost saying goodbye, a vigilant playman is a progress made by scotch tape to the trunk trunk. "Want to hide better – put on a prominent place!" – he cried victoriously and rushed to cheese. In a rush breaking paper and cellophan, he suddenly stopped and examined all shocked look. I decided that there was a corpse, I understood with melancholy. Compact – So baby. Or disseminated. The lieutenant slowly unbuttoned Cobur.

Autumn preferably Camembert, Ble, Vashne, Marul, Münster, Tomm with grains of dill. Winter – Legendary Brie, Overnsky Blue Furm de Amber, Bruss, Bohor, Livaro and Keta. Attention: Savoy Rish Mons eat only hot! And sweet Saint-Necteer, infused on beer Tart Bule de Avenn, Gapron with black pepper or sharp Viel Lille are good at any time of the year.

In the footsteps of Jerome to. Jerome

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