Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.
All worries are less with wine.
You have to be a romantic to invest yourself, your money, and your time in cheese.
I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.
Fettucini alfredo is macaroni and cheese for adults.
Pessimism is as American as apple pie - frozen apple pie with a slice of processed cheese.
My mother and I, our favorite part of any baked pasta is the top, where the cheese gets crusty.
I love making buckwheat crepes with ham, Parmesan cheese, and a fried egg on top. It's my go-to breakfast.
The clever cat eats cheese and breathes down rat holes with baited breath.
In university, in a vain attempt to stave off the frosh fifteen, I used to melt fat-free cheese over broccoli, onions and cauliflower in the cafeteria microwave. That earned me few friends.
I'm a carb queen. I'll always order macaroni and cheese, but I don't want it to be fancy. I want it to be as close to Kraft Services as it can possibly get!
Nothing says holidays, like a cheese log.
What happens to the hole when the cheese is gone?
A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.
Pasta with melted cheese is the one thing I could eat over and over again.
Taleggio is the perfect cheese to melt over a warm dish.
Scamorza, an Italian curd cheese often labelled 'smoked mozzarella,' melts fantastically well.
I ate cottage cheese all the time growing up, but it wasn't until I was in college that I became aware of the stigma surrounding it.
As an adult, I use whole-milk cottage cheese anywhere you might use plain Greek yogurt or ricotta cheese.
If I tell you there's cheese on the moon, bring the crackers.