THE WHEEL OF CHEESE
I was about 18 years old and drove to Rixeyville, VA to spend time with my grandparents. Grandma wanted to make her pimiento cheese and needed some sharp cheddar. She asked if I would drive to the country store a few miles down the road and purchase three pounds. I eagerly agreed. As she handed me cash, she gave serious and specific instructions.
"When you get there, go over to the deli counter and ask the man to cut a wedge from the wheel of sharp cheddar he has in that case. Now, be ready...he isn't going to want to do that! He will tell you to go to the case where he has already sliced and packaged cheese in small pieces. Don't take that for an answer!"
I was a little tense and confused as I drove to the store. As predicted, I asked him to slice cheese from the wheel, and he abruptly and austerely directed me to the refrigerated case of pre-cut cheese. I knew he wouldn't give me my way.
I said, "My Grandma wants it sliced off the wheel, please." His thick eyebrows shot up high, his jaw dropped, he put his hands on his hips and loudly snapped, "and just who is your Grandma?" I timidly mentioned her name.
His face softened and he walked over to the wheel, casually cut off a 3-pound wedge, wrapped it in paper and rang up the sale.
Enjoy, Terry |