Text messages are a convenient and fast way to keep in touch. They’re also a handy way of informing a cheese lover that this week is British Cheese Week.
Last night my colleague and friend, and I, decided it was about time that we indulged in a night out. As we were making our way to the nearest public house for wine and beer, a text message beeped from one of my dear friends. “Turn to pages 16 and 17 of The London Lite,” it simply read. I was intrigued. “I expect it’s George Michael related,” was my colleague and friends response. Hmm. I decided that she was probably right, and prayed to God that he hadn’t been caught in another shady situation. I drank two glasses of wine and tried not to fret about him. After our beer and wine we came to the conclusion that we should eat something, so off to the tube station and towards The London Lite we ventured. Upon receipt of this free newspaper we eagerly turned, with bated breath, to pages 16 and 17.
'British Cheese Week' was the headline on these mentioned pages. Phew. I let out a sigh of relief. All was well and quiet in George world. And what a cheesy coincidence that we’d agreed to head toward the nearest Gourmet Burger Kitchen for a blue cheese burger, with chips and blue cheese sauce. Once we knew it was British Cheese Week it seemed rather apt and the perfect excuse to eat lashings of cheese. Not that I ever need an excuse to eat cheese. I just like it. Fact. And another fact is this – Britain now produces more cheeses than France, and our favourite cheese is Cheddar, we eat more than 300,000 tonnes of it per year. Actually that’s three facts, if you wish to be pedantic.
The blue cheese burgers and blue cheese sauce were, as predicted, out of this world. I was one happy and content girl. After our cheese experience we went back to my colleague and friends house to chat, watch rubbish television and open a bottle of wine. The ideal way to spend a Wednesday night.
The spare room was my sleeping quarters for the evening, and a little later than my normal bed time, I retired to the spare room. After almost instantly falling asleep and probably dreaming about animals attempting to eat me (I can’t actually remember if I dreamt and if so, what the outcome was), I awoke to the sound of my mobile beeping another text message. “Check out page 27 of The Metro,” was this mornings text alert.
As soon as I could lay my hands on a copy of The Metro, which is another free newspaper circulated around London, I turned to page 27 thinking that it was probably another cheese reminder. 'George Michael is God' was the opening sentence, in reference to an article regarding the Eli Stone series where George’s music is heavily featured.
“George Michael is God,” I read out loud to my colleague and friend, liking the sound of it.
Hey, who am I to disagree?!
I closed the newspaper and smiled to myself. From that moment onwards, I knew it was going to be a good day.
Pictures of the day:
St Paul's Cathedral is situated near the Gourmet Burger Kitchen.
The blue cheese burger and the blue cheese sauce.
Colleague and friend eating.