My Favourite

Last month, Mrs P and I went to see Paul McCartney at the O2 Arena. Yes, acoustically it’s a terrible place to go see a concert, and he’s in his 80s and yes, he’s going to include far too much dross from his newer albums. But apparently you have to go see Macca at least once in your lifetime. Or is it Mecca? Who knows. Macca seemed the easier trip, so we did that.

I grew up convinced that I was a Beatles man. Not an Elvis man. Nor a Stones man. The Fab Four were the best. Their back catalogue could not be matched. But I was wrong. Of course I’m a Rolling Stones man. How did it take so long for me to figure it out? I guess that once you’ve got an idea embedded in your head, it’s hard to dislodge it. But still. I Am The Walrus, A Day In The Life and While My Guitar Gently Weeps (none of which Macca played) are wonderful, timeless classics. But they are no substitute for Gimme Shelter, You Can’t Always Get What You Want and Paint It Black. No sir. Not close.

Favourites change. For years I assumed the saddest piece of music ever written was the ending song from the 80s tv series The Hulk, The Lonely Man. But it’s actually a tune in the Painted Veil that takes that honour. The best country to visit in Europe? Look, there’s a ton of fabulous Euro destinations, but anyone kicking off a debate on the subject is simply telling you they haven’t been to Italy yet. Because there is no debate. The answer is and always has been Italy.

These are all important topics. But not as important as the final one. What is the best cheese in the world? Let me start by assuring you it most definitely isn’t anything made in the USA. I’ve spent time in the Dairy State and have sampled the best they have to offer and it’s just all very second rate. I’m afraid there’s nothing made in Mexico that could be considered a challenger. Call me a snob if you will, but the very best cheeses all come from Europe.

For decades, I’d have sworn that cheddar is the finest cheese on earth. Specifically, an extra mature farmhouse cheddar. So much flavour, so versatile. Perfect in a Cheese Ploughmans. Cheese on toast, with a spread of English mustard or sprinkling of Worcestershire Sauce. Grated as a topping to baked beans in a jacket potato. In a sandwich with Branston Pickle. The final layer on a lasagne. But can a jack of all trades win out in a competition to find the very finest of something? Perhaps not. So we must leave the British Isles and venture to the European mainland.

How about a ripe, creamy Brie? I remain hopeful that a peaceful death in my sleep awaits me, rather than at the beckoning of an executioner. But it’s always best to be prepared and if the time comes then I do have a few candidates for my final meal. One of which is for a freshly baked baguette (or perhaps a ciabatta, depending on my mood), well buttered, with thick slices of well ripened Brie and a generous filling of very crispy bacon. What a combination. But if you take the bacon away, it’s really a bit bland isn’t it. So it’s au revoir to Brie.

Blue cheeses? Stilton fits the bill for Christmas. Or in a Ploughmans, alongside a cheddar. Or in a steak pie. I do love Gorgonzola on a pizza. But if we must go blue, we must go Roquefort. If I were trying to explain the word ‘pungent’ to someone, I’d simply introduce them to a chunk of Roquefort. But I probably wouldn’t try to convince them that this is the finest cheese on earth. Nor would I proffer any of the processed German cheeses as world beaters.

But we must have a winner. And soon, because this post is beginning to stretch on a bit. My favourite cheese slowly grew on me over a prolonged period. Until I reached the point, just a couple of years ago, when I decided, “hey, I do believe this is my favourite cheese”. If you provided me with a platter of cheeses, and I had to pick just one to savour, based solely on the flavour and texture of the cheese alone, it would be a mature cave-aged Gruyère.

Swiss cheeses. The best in the world. Who knew? Best consumed while watching the Stones play live at Pompeii….