A while back I had lunch with a writer friend who lives at the very end of Ballygobackwards, as Husband would say. "What? She has to drive 4 miles to reach a store?!" Typical city kid. So good was the food I voluntarily ate cheese. It was served with crusty bread and tomatoes that defy all adjectives. The cheese just seemed at home on the plate and I ate it without reservation. I knew her husband grew the tomatoes but twenty varieties? He is tomato royalty and I had no idea. So, thank you Harold for growing them (and for stuffing so many Jerusalem artichockes into my larder.)
We then had vegetable stew and it practically melted the bowl, it was so good. I still can't believe she got me to eat cheese, though.