Tarry for the Nonce

January 3, 2007

Don’t Cut the Cheese in Britain

Filed under: News — lmwalker @ 2:35 pm

The British government has a problem with cheese:

Cheese is to be treated as junk food under new advertising rules for children’s television.

Commercials promoting it will be banned during children’s TV programmes and those with a large proportion of young viewers.

I suppose ’tis the lack of sunlight that causes such madness.

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4 Comments

  1. HAHAHA!

    Wow! You’re a bit overly sensitive to this issue…hmm. Why’s that Laura?

    Perhaps its England’s long-standing anti-France attitude that has caused this new trend.

    Cheese… its mainly oil and milk products, so perhaps there’s something there. Kind of like porkrinds, but with a better taste, texture, and usually doesn’t comes from a pig’s ass… I must say the French do love their “fromage.” And their wine… I can see why.

    Side-note: I was offered both pastuerized and non-pasteurized cheese when I was over there. I never tried the non-pasteurized cheese, but it was probably better than the pasteurized, taste wise. I just didn’t want to risk any unusual digestive problems after the fact. Thank you Pasteur!

    Comment by Andrew P. — January 4, 2007 @ 8:16 am

  2. I do love cheese, though I must say that I eat much less than I did in college.

    The propriety of filtering cheese aside, I do find it interesting that governments are taking an interest in healthy eating.

    Comment by Gabe Klyber — January 4, 2007 @ 10:44 am

  3. I find it highly suspicious.

    Comment by Andrew P. — January 5, 2007 @ 2:25 am

  4. MOUSEBENDER:
    Good Morning.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Good morning, sir. Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Ah, thank you my good man.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    What can I do for you, sir?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmond Street just now, skimming through Rogue Herries by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over all peckish.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Peckish, sir?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Esurient.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Eh?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    (In a broad Yorkshire accent) Eee I were all hungry, like.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Ah, hungry.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, ‘a little fermented curd will do the trick’. So I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Come again?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    I want to buy some cheese.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bouzouki player.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Oh, heaven forbid. I am one who delights in all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Sorry?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    (In a broad Yorkshire accent) Ooo, I like a nice tune – you’re forced to.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    So he can go on playing, can he?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Most certainly. Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Certainly, sir. What would you like?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Well, eh, how about a little Red Leicester?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    I’m afraid we’re fresh out of Red Leicester, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Oh never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    I’m afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir. We get it fresh on Monday.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Ah. It’s been on order, sir, for two weeks. I was expecting it this morning.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    It’s not my lucky day, is it? Er, Bel Paese?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Sorry, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Red Windsor?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Ah. Stilton?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Sorry.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Emmental? Gruyère?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Any Norwegian Jarlsberger, per chance?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Liptauer?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Lancashire?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    White Stilton?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Danish Blue?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Double Gloucester?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    ….. No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Cheshire?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Dorset Blue Vinney?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Brie, Roquefort, Pont-l’Évêque, Port Salut, Savoyard, Saint-Paulin, Carre-de-L’Est, Bresse-Bleu, Boursin?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Camembert, perhaps?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Ah! We have Camembert, yes sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    You do! Excellent.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Yes, sir. It’s, ah ….. it’s a bit runny.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Oh, I like it runny.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Well, it’s very runny, actually, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    No matter. Fetch hither le fromage de la Belle France! M-mmm!
    WENSLEYDALE:
    I think it’s a bit runnier than you’ll like it, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    I don’t care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all speed.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Oh …..
    MOUSEBENDER:
    What now?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    The cat’s eaten it.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Has he?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    She, sir.

    (pause)
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Gouda?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Edam?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Caithness?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Smoked Austrian?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Japanese Sage Darby?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    You do have some cheese, do you?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Of course, sir. It’s a cheese shop, sir. We’ve got …..
    MOUSEBENDER:
    No, no, don’t tell me. I’m keen to guess.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Fair enough.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Er, Wensleydale?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Yes?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Ah, well, I’ll have some of that.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Oh, I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mr Wensleydale, that’s my name.

    (pause)
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Greek Feta?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Ah, not as such.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Er, Gorgonzola?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Parmesan?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Mozzarella?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Pippo Crème?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Danish Fimboe?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Czech sheep’s milk?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Not today, sir, no.

    (pause)
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Ah, how about Cheddar?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Well, we don’t get much call for it around here, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Not much ca- It’s the single most popular cheese in the world!
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Not round here, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    And what is the most popular cheese round here?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Ilchester, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Is it.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Oh yes, sir. It’s staggeringly popular in this manor, squire.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Is it.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    It’s our number-one best seller, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    I see. Ah, Ilchester, eh?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Right, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    All right. Okay. Have you got any, he asked expecting the answer no?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    I’ll have a look, sir ….. nnnnnnooooooooo.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    It’s not much of a cheese shop, is it?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Finest in the district, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Well, it’s so clean, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    It’s certainly uncontaminated by cheese.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    You haven’t asked me about Limberger, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Is it worth it?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Could be.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Have you- SHUT THAT BLOODY BOUZOUKI UP!
    WENSLEYDALE:
    (To dancers) Told you so.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Have you got any Limburger?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    That figures. Predictable really, I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Yes, sir?
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Have you in fact got any cheese here at all?
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Yes, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Really?

    (pause)
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No. Not really, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    You haven’t.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    No, sir, not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    Well, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to shoot you.
    WENSLEYDALE:
    Right-O, sir.
    MOUSEBENDER:
    (Shoots him) What a senseless waste of human life.

    Comment by Howard — January 5, 2007 @ 5:07 pm


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