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Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel, style, and food. Hope you have a nice stay!

Ass Cheese

We're really banking on some mistaken clicks here... If I had to name something that completely consumed my life in high school it would be tennis. Tennis...and cheese. I often dreamt about what it would be like to be a professional tennis player--winning Grand Slams, makin’ millions, dating some male model who doesn’t even speak my native tongue (sarcasm). It would be THE LIFE, and dreaming about what I could do with my millions is what got me through all those heinously boring matches in which I had to play girls I could probably beat playing lefty, blindfolded, at the age of four.

At this time I also had a cheese addiction, and my pro-tennis dreams were filled with heaps of fresh mozzarella bought from the little Italian store down the street, sandwiches piled high with pepper-jack cheese, towers of Triscuits covered in brie and an endless supply of macaroni and cheese. Even now I still drool and tear up at what could have been, if only I was more “dedicated” and “focused” and “reached my potential.” Oh well.

So, with that, it stung a little bit when the story emerged that my favorite player in all of tennis history/current #1 ranked tennis player in the world/future father of my children, Novak Djokovic, bought up the world’s supply of ass* cheese.

Literally. The whole world’s supply.

This pained me for many reasons, not just the fact I had to read about someone (sort of) realizing MY dream, but the fact that of all the cheese he could buy, he picks ASS CHEESE, otherwise known as "pule." I’m not really sure which name is worse. I’d say if you’re going to buy the entire market’s worth of a certain type of cheese, pick one that at least sounds somewhat exotic like Fontinella, Fleuron or Ocooch Mountain. Pule sounds too much like mule...which I guess is fitting considering the cheese’s origin.

The cheese is rare, however, making it a cool buy. At $500 a pound, it is definitely worthy of being bought by a crazy celebrity for no apparent reason. That’s why I would buy so much cheese--because I CAN, and no one can stop me. But Novak, with that beautiful Serbian soul of his, bought it to share with the world in new restaurant chain he’s opening up.** The fact that I would not share my cheese but Novak would really stung me to the core, and made me realize what a heinous bitch I truly am. Then I got over it and grabbed another cheese stick from the fridge.

So now we are forever left with one question, and that is “what exactly does ass cheese taste like?” Unless we travel to Serbia, we will never know.

*in this case, ass really does mean donkey. but ass cheese just sounds funnier

**If he doesn’t open one in Evanston and attend the grand opening I AM DONE.

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