Stinky, French, Goat Cheese

I usually don’t eat anything with lactose but since it was my last time in Paris i felt adventurous enough to try cheese. We were visiting a friend’s home in the center of Paris by the Eiffel Tower which had me feeling more Frenchier than ever. Everything was just great until after the apero and dinner when It was cheese and baguette time! It was then when one of the worst experiences of my life happened. I am not exaggerating, really i am not.

I am a true Parisian

Our friends have known my husband longer than they have known me. He used to rent their apartment in Paris until he decided to move to a bigger one do to our marriage (not my fault). They were the nicest Parisians i had ever met! An older couple living in a very French suburban apartment with their little terrier.

Like all French meals,we started with the famous apero that included snacks like small squares of cow cheese, mini carrots, mini wieners,mini tomatoes and wine. As we relaxed and talked about the differences between LA and Paris, the white-haired, blue-eyed,  and a bit on the heavy side man answered ” Bien sur ! I was born in Paris” when my husband had asked him If he knew Paris’ streets well. His nice and friendly wife got very close to me and said ” He is a true Parisian you know” she then backed away from me nodding and fixing her very thick glasses. On that moment, i realized that being from Paris meant a lot to the French, if you are from Paris you are the coolest of all Frenchies; or so they think. How lucky was  I? To be in Paris, by the Eiffel Tower, with real Parisians who weren’t jerks, which was a plus.

Never Ending Dinner

The French are known for spending a lot of time sitting,talking and drinking wine at the table, for hours and hours and hours. But they are also known for eating a lot. When we started dinner i though the dishes would never end. After the main course which included green beans and salmon we had a big salad. Once i had undone my jean’s button i realized we were half way there. She insisted we tried the fruits.  The drinks kept on rolling too! After that we talked more, and then some more, when it was finally time for the cheese and baguette. She brought out two different types of original French cheese.

Francois explained how the farmers make it in their farms, and  Catherine told and warned us not to ever go into one of those places on a full stomach in order to prevent vomiting. Apparently she had once seen her grandfather as a kid eat old green moldy cheese with worms in it. Her husband added that it was probably not that bad since the worms were made of cheese. It was right there and then when he leaned forward towards me handing me a piece of goat cheese ” ici ma belle, this is the real cheese, strong but very good.” I was exited to try this cheese, i was feeling very Parisian by then, until.

You Make Me So Sick I Could Vomit

With a smile and a ” merci” i took the piece of gooey cheese and took a big bite. As i chewed it I waited for the taste. I smelled the piece of cheese in my hand and realized that it was not stinky at all. But suddenly, there was a big bang! The taste of what melted  plastic mixed with rancid milk and a dead goat would taste like, passed through my throat.  Not wanting to swallow it i continued chewing the rest of the cheese i had in my mouth. I smiled at the man as he explained to me all things  cheese.  I felt i might have an anxiety attack; It literally made me sick to my stomach and my nerves twitched. My throat burned with the stench and my stomach rejected it, i felt it turning. I was dizzy and felt like throwing up.

Not wanting to be rude, i discretely got a napkin and spat onto it when no one was looking. I drank all of my wine and the rest of my kid’s cranberry juice to wash off the taste but it wasn’t enough. My husband who had not eaten cheese in a long time had a bite too, but i noticed he didn’t have any problem eating it. Maybe it was because before turning vegan he had eaten all kind of stinky cheeses as a kid.

Well, after they were done tasting it and talking about it, the question came up “Alors, what did you think of it dear?” the real Parisian asked me. I couldn’t lie. I looked at my husband and then i explained in detail what i had felt while i was eating it. I must have made funny or horrifying faces and expressions when talking about it that they all bursts into laughs. I laughed about it too deciding i would never eat that again. It literally made me feel sick. I liked the cow’s smooth,sweeter cheese  better. But never again! Thank God dinner was not over! I washed off the taste of moldy cheese with the chocolate ice cream she gave us before we headed home.


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