The Butt Cheese

"Grayson", Virginia, cow's milk, raw, 2010
$15/lb

I once told Eddie that he was "the cheese to my wine," being that he is, of course, hopelessly cheesy in his romanticism and humor, but finds me (probably rightfully so) to be somewhat melancholy, biting, and almost bitter. (Whatever, he loves it. And he could easily get hammered off of me if he wasn't careful. Muah!)

So now for something completely different: a cheese review. Cheese is the best thing that has ever come from rotten milk, and is rarely over $30 a pound, so it's pretty much always within the bounds of reviewing it here. And it's me, so I can do this "outside of the schtick" business. You may see some "under/over 30" stuff when I review expensive stuff and get to be under 30 at the same time. Huzzah!

So Eddie and I go to The Wine Source in Hampden to frolic in the aisles and swim through the plentiful bottles like Scrooge McDuck. I discover they have a cheese section, and this little squishy pale orange wedge catches my eye. It's interesting-looking, and I notice that it's from Virginia (my old stomping grounds), and made from raw cow's milk. And orange. And kinda stinky. I have to poke it. We normally get a good portion of everything in our fridge from the farmer's market, and the bestest cream-of-the-crop stank-ass cheese you can find there happens to be made of delicious (surprisingly not-so-goaty) goat's milk, so cow's milk is an interesting change of pace. I run off to The Cheese Guy to purchase it.

It began to stink up the car as we drove down the street a few blocks. Eddie thinks I'm probably one of those Super Taster/Smeller freaks who have more taste buds than anyone normal, though maybe it's just abnormally sensitive olfactory bulbs. Either way, it didn't really occur to me at that moment that the straight-up baked foot stench that emanated from the offending lump should have caused me to forcefully throw it out the passenger's side window.

We brought it home, along with a bottle of the Domaine de Cambis rosé that we decided we'd chill and very probably drink in the public park about a block from our apartment. We decided to taste the cheese before bringing it out with us.

Upon tasting a small chunk, Eddie responds with, "It smells like I just stuck my hand up my own ass.” Looking at the cheese disappointedly he says to me, “That's all you."

So even though "Grayson", a semi-soft washed-rind cow's milk cheese which apparently, "was awarded a third place Open Category Farmstead Cheeses at the American Cheese Society Competition of 2007, a second runner-up to Best in Show in the 2008 American Cheese Society competition and a second-place ribbon in the 2009 competition," has won several awards, it still smells (and thus tastes) like the fermented, musty buttcrack of one who has spent the better portion of a hotter-than-the-devil's-drawers August day in Baltimore sweating bullets down his or her hind crevice. I love me some rank-ass cheese, but not the butthole variety. I love me an earthy, mushroomy, squishy dirt-cheese like a good triple crème brie, or a garlicky, dirty sweat sock bleu variety like Roaring Forties. But this should more accurately be called "Virginia Rimjob". This makes me wonder what exactly the other cheeses were that the judges in these competitions had tasted, or what it was they chose to eat in their free time.

Beyond the butthole, you get a Velveeta-like plastic/aluminum quality with a similar soft, waxy texture. It tastes remarkably like that Velveeta Deluxe macaroni and cheese with the pouch o' orange crap that, upon sliding down your esophagus, makes you feel your congealing blood move through your heart in an almost lava lamp-like fashion. The only not-terrible part of this cheese is the rind, which is moderately palatable if you 1) can move beyond the horrid stench to even be able to taste the damn thing, and, 2) like the taste of washed-rind, or 3) like to eat ass-flavored cheese rind.

So the Butt Cheese gets a hearty thumbs-down. For $15 a pound, go for a nice Roquefort or St. Andre. Or anything, really. Because this tastes like something I found underneath a park bench.