The Cheese Wagon

As I was walking through the old city portion of Heidelberg, I came across what looked like a farmer’s market in the market square. It was like a farmer’s market, except there were only 4 stalls, 2 of which had rather sad-looking produce (at least by California standards), and one was salamis, and the other had cheese. The cheese stall happened to have samples, so of course I had to try some.

OMG, was that ever the best cheese I’ve ever tasted. Some of it was made out of raw milk, which I think is banned in the states, but it managed to be tart and sharp without biting. Besides thinking about how I shouldn’t touch the monkey while I was on the Philosophenweg, I kept thinking about how good that cheese was. It was really really good. When I returned after having some cheesecake and coffee to “brighten myself up” as the Germans would say, I bought myself a hunk of Swiss cheese made from raw sheep’s milk. Unfortunately, my appetite couldn’t keep up with the need to eat awesome German food, so I ended up carrying that cheese around with me for 2 days, until I finally ate it as a midnight snack in Cologne’s Altstadt. It stank, but it stank in a good way.


In the U.S., you’ll find the cops at a donut shop. InĀ  Germany, they’re hanging out at the cheese stand. And who do you think you’d rather have arrest you?

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