And in the shadows there was a cow.

I spent a lovely afternoon with my cousins, hanging around the pool, floating and socializing in multigenerational combinations, drinking gin and tonics (I don't drink gin, so I had a bourbon and ginger), reading, and soaking up the sun and each other's company.

And in the shadows there was a cow.

As I was leaving my house to head over there, I grabbed a bottle of wine to bring with me.  Since I hadn't had lunch, I grabbed some cheese and crackers.

This part of my family has had an infestation of veganism.  I believe it started with my cousin, Ruby, who is a published author of children's books on veganism.  With the various health issues of the older cousins, they seem to have become convinced that eating vegan would help them live longer.

I knew that bringing cheese into the house was treasonous.  (Let's not even go into the issue of rennet!) At the same time, I was hungry.  And I had a feeling that a couple of people there might secretly not be vegan and/or just be dying for something more substantial than salad and grains and nuts.  When I arrived, I proactively apologized profusely and reassured the group that I would not be leaving cheese in the house but would take "any leftovers" (i.e., all of it) with me.

My cousin, Daniel, was enormously grateful.  He actually took some of it to hide and eat later.  My cousin-in-law, Jeff, was not there: he is an opportunitarian, meaning he will eat what is provided.  I know he would have secretly taken the opportunity.  These vegans are harsh.

Daniel and I agreed that my bringing cheese to the house was as if I'd brought a freshly-slaughtered pig.    We were the real rebels today.

P.S.: As I began to select labels for this post from my label list, I am delighted to find that I already have a label for "cheese."

P.P.S.: The cheeses I brought were both indeed cow's milk cheeses.  Because I wouldn't have titled this post this way if it had been sheep cheese.  (See also below: the creature that makes all the noise when you visit this page.)

Mmmm ... cured meat.....

I'm on another cured meat kick. A while ago, it was prosciutto: I ate it with my fingers, I cooked with it, I couldn't get enough of it. Kind of an expensive habit. Now I'm on to salumi, which I think sounds pretentious, so I say, "salami-like things."

For lunch today, I had my Fra' Mani sopressata and Vermont cheddar sandwich. I eat this almost every day. I don't like sandwiches, generally, so when I find one I like that I can make at home and save myself some lunchtime angst and bucks, I do. This is an awesome sandwich. I don't know what sopressata is (I don't know if I want to know), but it's good. The Market Hall people sure know how to recommend salami-like things.

This evening I went to a friend's surprise birthday party at Adesso on Piedmont Avenue. Delightful to be returning to my old neighborhood, particularly to visit an eatery that I hadn't been to before. Adesso is new, in the new Il Piemonte building, a building I longed to live in because of its Piedmont location and palazzo exterior, but I didn't like it enough.

I did not know this until I got there: Adesso is a salumi bar. I opened the menu and saw more salumi-like things listed than I could count (the reviews say that there are more than 30). And I was there with a great group of people who like salumi as much as I do. We were pleasantly overwhelmed at the selection. So we ordered a chef's salumi platter, some cheeses -- and the cheeses were superb and a superb mix (and I am a cheesie) -- and then some panini, which also involved cured meats. The sausage panino was to die for. We were in heaven. And then they brought out the Baskin Robbins mint chocolate chip birthday cake, and we all got quiet as we ate it, focusing intently on the exquisiteness of our individual nostalgia trips.

As Joey would say, here come the meat sweats.