food snobs we ain't

Today after our 10-hour shift at the specialty foods store my fellow cheesemongerette and I went to the local branch of a corporate giant grocery chain to get some provisions for our respective dinners at home. I was feelin' the Middle East with whole wheat pita bread, hummus, and baby carrots (I've also been feelin' a little fat lately--but come on, I work at a fuckin' cheese store), and she made a run for the border with chips, bean dip, and salsa. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her pick up a sealed plastic bag of what appeared to be processed domestic shredded cheese-like product.

"Oh my god are you buying cheese here?!?"
"Yeah, this snack is too lowbrow for the Quebec 5-year Vintage Cheddar, plus the Quebec's high fat content would overwhelm the bean dip."
"Right on."

As we parted ways in the subway station, after she wished me a good night with my hummus, I told her, quite sincerely, to enjoy her shredded cheese. If the goddamn F train had taken its sweet time as usual I would've added that I have a green cardboard can of Kraft "100% Grated Parmesan Cheese" (plus a little touch of cellulose powder and potassium sorbate, of course) in my refrigerator, and I love it. Our Bonati Parmigiano Reggiano for $16.50 a pound is superb and complex and all, but you just can't put that shit on pasta-from-a-box and sauce-from-a-jar.

at least our orange dickies aprons are cute

Oh my god you guys! Guess who came into work the other day! Stacy fucking London! From TLC's What Not to Wear! Apparently she comes in frequently! She looks so young and pretty in person and really likes a good aged gouda! And you may think I'm being sarcastic but I'm totally not. For a while we were getting TLC with the pirated cable and then one day channel 42 was all static. I almost cried. But I'm thrilled to have Stacy back in my life, and I plan to wear the same pair of jeans plus ratty shoes and a baggy t-shirt to work every day in the hope of becoming the next makeover-ee. (Not that I haven't been doing that already.) Oh, and speaking of my dreams of being on a TV show, I didn't make it to the Millionaire audition because I couldn't bear the thought of going up to Midtown at the brutally early hour of 2pm. Sigh.