Sydney Life

I have not used the internet for an entire week, and let me tell you it’s been liberating. I have instead been spending my time in the freezing artic terrain of Richmond, rehearsing with the Australian Youth Orchestra. Being stuck in a place with fairly terrible food makes you think quite a lot about what you eat, and you realise that almost everyone has some kind of “weird food” addiction. One double bass player is addicted to Tang , my deskie has a fetish for 95% cocoa Lindt chocolate squares. Apparently I am more weird than most because of my love for Vegimite and Honey together on toast. But the weird food that really, really gets me revved is plastic cheese.

To adapt a quote from a cheese advertisement – “Cheese that doesn’t melt. It’s not natural. But it tastes so good.” You know what I’m talking about – it comes in neat square slices, each individually wrapped. It’s bendable, sort of off-white-yellow, and a ridiculous waste of packaging. Ah, plastic cheese, how I love thee! Let me count the ways.

1. The way it [doesn’t] melt
There is only one way to “cook” plastic cheese. In an oven, under a grill. And you have to be able to watch, because I’m pretty sure it defies all laws of natural science.

First of all, lightly toast some bread. Then carefully place an [unwrapped] square of aforementioned cheese on top. Place in the oven, turn on the grill, and prepare to be mystified.

As the convection currents of the oven work their magic, the cheese will begin to rise, forming a cushion shape on top of the bread. If you are especially lucky, the cheese may even pull up the edges of the bread for a heightened billowy effect. Higher and higher the cheese shall rise, until a few gentle pops are heard and the cheese gradually floats back down to meet and become one with the bread.

Finally, take this divine dish out of the oven and inspect carefully. If cooked correctly, it should look pretty much exactly the same as it did when you put it in the oven, but with a few brown splodges on the cheese. Sit back in front of Bold & The Beautiful, or something equally cheesy (cue laughter button) and enjoy your culinary creation!

2. The way it bends
They say you can only bend a piece of paper seven times, no matter how big it is. But have “they” ever tried bending plastic cheese? You can make one square last infinitely longer by bending it into teensy weensy pieces and eating them one at a time. Heaven, second only to the aforementioned grilled variety.

3. The inherent luxury it represents through its blatant consumer qualities
There’s something deliciously upper-class about the way each individual square of cheese has its own plastic wrapping. Something terribly extravagant about peeling off each unnecessary layer to get to the chewy goodness inside. In a time in which the world is becoming increasingly aware of (and perhaps a little frazzled by) its unsustainable waste habits, our enjoyment of the luxurious extra plastic is heightened by its rarity value; by the prophesying of its inevitable demise.

Ok so that last reason was a little dodgy, but people can’t you see? It just TASTES SO GOOD!

Also, this blog has perilously little to do with Uni life… My only excuse can be that it’s Uni holidays. Which, by the way, go for far longer than those petty school ones I used to enjoy. Happy holidays all!