The other night while Jon and I were eating dinner he asked me if I could only have one kind of cheese for the rest of my life, what would it be? And I’m all, “This is the dumbest question ever.”
And then he forced me to answer.
So I chose brie. It’s delicious alone, with crackers, on sandwiches. With fig. Is there anything better than brie and fig? Yes, I was proud of my answer.
And then Jon told me I was wrong. WRONG?? How can there possibly be a wrong answer to such a dumb question?
Apparently the “correct” answer was mozzarella. Which he continued to explain comes in various forms: on pizza, mozzarella sticks, chicken parmesan.
Sidenote: why is chicken parmesan not called chicken mozzarella?
All of a sudden this brought back memories of a job interview I once had where the interviewer asked me if I could identify my five senses. In the stress of a job interview this can be a bit hard, but I of course answered like a champ.
He then asked me if I had to give up one of them, which would it be. I pondered the question and responded, “Smell. Perfume gives me headaches, I could do without some of the smells of NYC in summer or of that person on the train who hasn’t showered in far too long…”
And then he told me I was wrong. Apparently the correct answer was taste. He reasoned that smell can save your life if a building is on fire and you smell the smoke.
But let’s be honest, I’d much rather have taste on an everyday basis, than smell in case I happened to be in a burning building.
Which brings me back to the cheese. I really do prefer brie.
PS. It’s March. I’m having a baby this month.