Getting Away for the Weekend, June 11

Last weekend, while enjoying a round table discussion at the Ritz-Carlton, a colleague of mine brought to the table a plate of the stinkiest (and yummiest) cheeses offered on the Ritz's cheese cart.  It reminded me a time in Jordan when I was pregnant and I thought you would enjoy the story.

One sunny winter day in Amman, the French Ambassador to Jordan had an open Christmas sale at his residence. Dreams of fine french wines and cheeses drew much of the Embassy crowd...people were so excited, they were filling up huge cardboard boxes with foie gras, lardon, sauccon, brie, camembert, marrons glacees, and even French silk neckties presumably from the Ambassador's private collection.

While the other people I went with entered the house to smells from a gourmand's heaven, I, on the other hand, set foot inside the residence and immediately smelled a disgusting mixture of 5-6 different french cheeses, a smell which to a 5-months pregnant women, was eerily reminiscent of a dead animal. Seriously.

The Hubs, a gourmand at heart, was not able to go to the event because of work, so I decided to buy him some things he wanted, namely large amounts of stinky, stinky cheese.

I made the mistake of smelling the cheeses first to see if he would like it.  I soon realized that "pregnancy nose" had gotten the better of me. I couldn't even be near the food table without large waves of foot-smell induced nausea crashing over me.  I tried circling the room to see if movement made the smell go away.  But this was serious stank, the stinkiest cheese I have possibly ever beheld.

I quickly picked him up a sampler tray of 5 different cheeses, and since it was wrapped in plastic on a nice wicker tray, I thought for sure I was safe from the smell. Nope.

Sure enough, when I got in the car, one of my traveling companions remarked, "What on earth is that smell?" I could have blamed the Arab men who for some reason detest deodorant, but we were all aware that the cause of the funk was the large tray of stink on my lap.

Shortly after I returned to work, I called Hubs to come get his prize, since he had decent fridge space in his office and I couldn't stand to be smelling the cheese on my desk all day.

To make matters worse, our dream of a fine wine and cheese evening never happened, which meant that large quantities of uneaten cheese stank up our fridge for a good month.  I actually had to ask Hubs to warn me before he opened our fridge for the waft of smell that came out of the door turned my stomach every time.  It really did smell like a wet dog on a warm Paris summer evening. YUCK.

And the Hubs?  In total stinky cheese heaven.

For the life of me, I can't understand the draw to cheese that reeks of death and feet.  But to each his own, I guess.