When I met David, he was, it has to be said, one of the pickiest eaters I have ever met. He wouldn’t eat hummus because he thought it had mayonnaise in it, or olives and he wasn’t too keen on shellfish, these are now some of his favourite foods. He’s still not mad keen on pork so if i’m going to do a lovely bit of melty pork with beautiful crackling, I have to do it when he’s not here because if I cook it for us, he gives it such a stare, as though he were expecting it to get up and skulk off the plate in disgust at itself. But overall, he is now much easier to cater for, though sometimes I don’t understand why he doesn’t just want to eat cereal for supper when it is obviously so much easier after a hard day’s parenting. If anything he has gone the other way and I feel that I may have created a bit of a monster, this was brought to my attention recently in the cheese aisle of our local Morrison’s. I caught him glowering at a shelf full of nondescript cheddar, innocently sitting there in it’s cling film.
‘What’s with you and the cheddar?’ I ask him.
‘You’re stood in the supermarket death staring cheddar.’
Well, I can’t remember what he said word for word but I can assure you that a mighty rant ensued of such closed mindedness and cheese related ignorance that Jacob Rees-Mogg would have been proud.
‘Not everybody can afford to loiter around artisan cheese shops of a weekend’ I say ‘besides, if you’re cooking with it, there’s not an awful lot of point spending a lot of money on cheese.’
‘Good God, you’ll be eating Cathedral City next!’
‘Actually I don’t mind a bit of Cathedral City. It makes a nice cheese and pickle sandwich.’
He looks at me in disgust for if there’s anything he hates more than cheap cheese, it’s Branston Pickle. And there, in that moment, a lightning bolt hit me and I created a new alter-ego for my husband; Jacob Cheese-Mogg. I’ve taken it and run with it having created an entire back story for him, how his Mother in law is Lady Juliet Taleggio (this is a VERY funny joke if you know Reese-Mogg’s MIL’s name) and taking the mick out of him amongst our friends and on Facebook. He has now become affectionately known as “Mogg” and my friends text me pictures of them outside artisan cheese emporiums (EMPORIUMS no less!) or scoffing Cathedral City along with the line ‘What would Mogg think?’
I think he actually enjoys his alter-ego more than he lets on. He seems to have a Mogg-nificent time with it as he saunters out the door on his Saturday morning jaunt to the cheese shop to pick up some weird and wonderful cheese. Thankfully he hasn’t brought that maggot one back. Yet…