A visit to the cheese shop is, for me, what I imagine a museum is like for a very good painter—except instead of brushstrokes, I’m clocking the tiny, sandy sparkle of tyrosine crystals on a wedge of parmesan; instead of composition, the way blue-green veins in a favorite bleu intersect like a little map of the L; instead of technique, the jaunty zigzag of a manchego rind (beautiful, sadly inedible).
I have always loved cheese, but during the pandemic, I decided to love it formally. I enrolled in a cheesemongering certification course through the UK-based Academy of Cheese and spent months with notecards on curds and whey, then more months learning how to taste with intention. In November 2021, I received a small pin and certificate to prove it.
