In spite of
its pleasing lemon-yellow interior, we couldn't think of any use for
it except maybe crumbling thirty or forty cents' worth into a
ten-cent bowl of bean soup. But that seemed like a waste of money, so
we set it aside to try in tiny chunks on crackers as an appetizer
some other day, when it might be more appetizing.
We felt much the same about the chocolate-brown Norwegian Gjetost
that looked like a slab of boarding-school fudge and which had the
same cloying cling to the tongue. We were told by a native that our
piece was entirely too young. That's what made it so insipid,
undeveloped in texture and flavor. But the next piece we got turned
out to be too old and decrepit, and so strong it would have taken a
Paul Bunyan to stand up under it. When we complained to our expert
about the shock to our palates, he only laughed, pointing to the nail
on his little finger.
"You should take just a little bit, like that. A pill no bigger than
a couple of aspirins or an Alka-Seltzer.
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