NYT’s argument that we’ve, just now, hit the tipping point with artisanal cheese is a little off, in my opinion. I mean, hell, I’ve been making myself Marcey Street Market’s man-whore for years now – and from the looks of the crowd in front of the counter every time I’m in there, I’m not the only one. And now we’ve got Pastoral in Lakeview to make with the cheesy goodness. If anything, there’s just more of us unwilling to put up with the waxy, flavorless party-chunks from the local supermarket in favor of something not necessarily fancier, but definitely more fun. (And FUNKY, too. Unpasteurized sheep’s milk cheddar from Australia – smells like feet. Tastes like heaven. Oh - and the Midnight Moon, too.)
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