There is a little mouse in the house. He lives near our log burner – sensible guy – and although we shouldn’t, we leave him French bread and sometimes cheese. Once the barn is finished, he will have to move his little home to the hay barn at the back, but for now we indulge him.
One grievance I have living in France, is the lack of English cheese. In England we buy French cheese by the ton, in fact we are one country that buys significantly more French cheese than many other countries, but the French do not reciprocate. Why? Having lived here on and off for a few years – its purely snobbery and a contrary attitude. There is little academic or gastronomic judgement evident anywhere in the decision making process. They do buy Dutch cheese. I like Dutch cheese – but to never savour a mature English cheddar, a creamy Wensleydale or an acidic Cheshire? Shameful!
But today my Little Mouse made me proud. A test. We didn’t have any French cheeses, but we had some Dutch Gouda. After two days it remined untouched. Today the mature cheddar was carefully placed beside the Gouda. Half a minute only and Little Mouse got a waft of something special. He checked the coast was clear and took a bite of the cheddar.
Then another bite, and another – THEN – WOOSH!!!! The cheddar was grabbed. It was gone and Little Mouse was off to his house!
Tomorrow the ultimate challenge – Brie versus Cheddar. Little Mouse will be under pressure.