I love cheese. Like love it so much that I would marry it. My favorite being mild cheddar, followed closely by mozzarella and pepper jack. It is the main reason I will probably never go vegan. I just can't quit the cheese! Is there a 12-step program out there somewhere?
Unfortunately... cheese hates me. Why else would it abuse me so badly whenever we meet and I haven't properly prepared for the encounter?
It has only happened a handful of times and it was only recently that I deduced the cause of some very violent visits* to the bathroom.
The only reason I am bringing this up is because my love for cheese and lack of planning for social situations where food is involved is a recipe for disaster!** Have you ever been to a party where there wasn't a cheese platter of some sort?
A week or two into my vegetarianism I was invited to a party. I was a guest, invited by a guest so the hosts would have had no way of knowing about my dietary restrictions. Also, I have decided that this vegetarian lifestyle, something I have chosen to do, is no one else's responsibility to accommodate. If someone were to ask me if I had any objections to a particular dish I will gladly thank them for being so considerate. But I am not going to show up at a party and demand some sort of special food just for me. But back to the party. The hor d'oeuvres on offer were; cheesy spinach artichoke dip, caprese salad (with giant slices of fresh mozzarella), and a cheese and pickled veggie platter. Dinner served about an hour into the party was lasagna with meat and garlic bread. I loaded up on the appetizers that I could eat and didn't think anymore about it... for 30 minutes or so.
I was sitting on the couch talking with some of the other guests when I started getting a very weird rumble in my stomach. I didn't really think anything of it, just a slight discomfort. Soon there was some toasting of the birthday fellow followed by cake and ice cream. Seeing as I hadn't had much in the way of dinner I said yes to the German chocolate cake and ice cream, thankful for the additional food. I am not even kidding when I tell you that within five minutes of finishing my slice of cake I was in trouble. The slight rumble had turned into full on gut wrenching*** pain and I had to excuse myself.
When I returned to the party I was still in a lot of pain, but not wanting to make a big deal of it I just held on and prayed to God that I would make it out alive. Luckily we were able to leave soon and I was able to sleep off the worst of it.
Fast forward to last weekend. I was at Christy's 70's themed birthday party enjoying the fondue and answering questions about how going veg was working out for me. I had just fished out my latest piece of bread and was relating my last party/cheese catastrophe when I realized I needed to STOP EATING THE CHEESE! Unfortunately, I was a tad bit too late. Fortunately I hadn't eaten all that much cheeses so it was all over quickly.
Upon discussing it with Christy the next day, I came to the conclusion**** that cheese and I get along great. As long as there is a nice carb-y buffer between it and my stomach lining.
*Alliteration - I love you!
**I'm also use cliche's ALL THE TIME.
***Literally.
****We also concluded that I talk about cheese WAY too much.
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