The Heated Debate

What Is The Big Cheese, of Cheese?

One of the lads came back from France last week singing the praises of Livarot. It's a soft cheese, with a pungent, earthy aroma. We tried some out on some thin, crisp crackers and agreed it was very good. But not as good as an aged Comte, a hard cheese, strong and sweet and great on toast, and what about the seasonal joy of Vacherin? What indeed . . .

And so it began. The Heated Debate. Nothing divides people as much as cheese. Apart from religion. And football. And race, I suppose. Abortion too. OK. Lots of things divide people more than cheese, but cheese is up there. Right up there.

We had our patriots: a good Cheddar comes top of a lot of people's list, and it is a flexible cheese: melted, grated, with pickles and a key part of any ploughman's. Some sang up for crumbly Cheshire, but they were lone voices. Red Leicester was dismissed as a chancer. The Huntsman, a layered Double Gloucester-Stilton combo, was a revelation.

The king Stilton, of course, came out well. With port, walnut and a trickle of honey. Un-fucking-beatable. Some of the younger chaps, with under-developed palates spolied with soft drinks and Quavers, tried arguing the case for 'branded' cheeses like Cracker Barrel or Cathedral, but their unworldliness was crushed like a beetle under quarter-heeled Solatio.

Europe outside France had some strong contenders; Parmigiano and Pecorino punched well for Italy, Manchego put in a shout for Spain and Greece even squeaked in with some late support for Feta. Processed cheese slices were defended for their work on cheeseburgers. The fondue got a retro vote. Laughing Cow was loved by a couple of non-eaters.

The debate goes on. It may never end. Does there have to be a winner? We don't think so. That's the great thing about cheese. There is something for everyone, even the arseholes.

What are your thoughts? Cheese-wise, like.