For as long as I can remember I have had a ritual on first dates that helps me figure out if a guy is right for me or not. I ask what his favorite cheese is. My truth is, out of zillions of cheeses worldwide, there is only one wrong answer they can give me — American cheese.
Let me just say right away that I like american cheese a fair amount (it is still cheese after all) so I don’t want to answer to rioters outside my loft screaming about the injustice I’ve done this processed dairy miracle. However, if it is your favorite cheese there is no deep long lasting love connection in our future. This dating tactic has never failed me; men who long for cheese of the perfectly square kind and choose it over all others are all the same.
I can maybe let it slide if you think Swiss won’t compliment your sandwich, but anything has to have more depth than American. I don’t understand; when Provolone is an option, why not take it?! These guys are the picky eaters and the ones who order the same Chicken Parmesan at every Italian restaurant and General Gau’s Chicken at every Asian place. They scoff at the idea of trying any new food that “looks weird”, “smells funny” or “is green” no matter how many people tell them it’s worth a bite. If you ever do get this guy to try something new after he swears he won’t like it, he will say it’s disgusting no matter what, just to be right. There is an element of control here that ladies would be wise to avoid.
Ever wonder why you never see American cheese as a part of an entree salad at restaurants? It is because people who like that stuff don’t eat salad.
The man who likes his cheese patriotic and processed is the same guy whose mother made him grilled cheese sandwiches with no crust on command and now you are going to have to fill her apron. I say all this because if someone is claiming that their favorite cheese is something that uninteresting, I have to believe they haven’t explored their other options fully. I assume they have no natural interest in the world around them because they were coddled and sheltered as a boy. I wouldn’t be surprised if these were some of the same culprits of underwear deliveries from their mom… that alone is a rant for another day.
After doing a little research I discovered that I’m breaking laws in this post because here I have been calling it “cheese” (I couldn’t make this up if I tried). It is illegal in the US to call it that because it is not. It has to be referred to as:
- Processed cheese
- Cheese product
- Cheese food (my personal favorite)
- American Slices/Singles (leaving the word cheese out altogether)
There was govenrment time and money spent talking about referring to it as “cheese” because of how it is made and what is in it. If this concept doesn’t concern the consumer I have to question all their life choices.
What about cheddar? That’s another simple and unimaginative answer but I can respect it because at least it isn’t defined by it’s color. “Would you like the White American, Yellow or Orange?” The difference is food coloring, so why there are options at all is beyond me.
When I tell a guy that he picked the one wrong answer he always tries to defend his choice (but let’s be real here, if he picked American he isn’t the sharpest debater either). Usually the main point in his case is, “But it’s so delicious!”. Touché dude, you have me there. How can I argue with such powerful and insightful logic?
The only argument I will hear on behalf of our nation’s namesake cheese is if one is referring to the rare but delicious unprocessed American. It is a mixture of Colby and Cheddar and the tales I have heard of it in my journeys tell me that it is quite tasty. If this is the cheese you speak of, and it is your favorite, you are off the hook. Otherwise, that second date we planned for next Saturday? Yeah, I forgot, I have a show that night…
(If you want to know what your favorite cheese says about you, read my next post, where I will attempt to tackle other cheese personality types)