Last night I had a plate of cheese and some summer sausage for dinner. A little Jarlsberg, some Amish Swiss, some Parmesan curls carefully knifed off of the big, hard Parmesan lump, and I was a happy camper.
I’d say I have cheese for dinner approximately once a week. I try different kinds of cheeses, filling the spectrum from hard to soft and from mild to the smelliest cheese you can imagine. I like it all. About the only cheese I won’t try is “flavored” cheese. I prefer mine au naturel. Sometimes I’ll combine it with nuts, or different kinds of olives, or pieces of fruit. Grandma Webner would look at this kind of meal disdainfully and call it “piecing,” but it’s a nice, light repast when I’m just not in the mood for something heavier.
Now I learn that researchers from the University of Michigan, of all places, have concluded that cheese has casein, a chemical that can trigger the brain’s opioid receptors and produce the same kind of feeling of euphoria that users of hard drugs experience. Their research is focused on trying to identify foods that may have addictive qualities and then use that information to combat obesity, issue new nutrition guidelines, restrict the marketing of such foods to children, and do all of the other things that “researchers” propose to do in the modern nanny state.
Leave it to the killjoys from That State Up North to raise concerns about the simple enjoyment of a few pieces of cheese! And whatever the “research” might find, are we really going to conclude, after centuries of careful creation and cheerful consumption, from medieval monks on down to the modern day, that a few pieces of cheese are a bad thing?