I spot a cheese at Murrayâ€™s called “Young Manchego” and ask the guy at the counter if it has suffered or had any sorrows? Of course, the cheesemonger with that silly goatee hates me. Is it my corpulence? Perhaps, but I admit, the longer the line behind me, the more I like to sample the obscure and hard-to-cut varieties. Or do my goatee and goat cheese jokes get his goat? Itâ€™s hard to say.
Today, he ignores me as long as he can, pretending to sort through the technicolor wedges of Gouda, then with a petulant sigh, he simply explains that Young Manchego is firm and compact. Aloud I wonder if it is like a welterweight type of cheese. Knowing all too well that Iâ€™ll end up buying Kraft Monterey Jack, the cheesemonger inexplicably continues, explaining that Young Manchego has a buttery texture and contains small air pockets. I tell him I can relate and point out that I love it when he says, â€œYoung Manchego.”