In a telephone conversation before the holidays, my sister and I stumbled onto the topic of eating. More specifically, we challenged each other with the question, "What's the single most unhealthy thing you eat?"
We both had the same answer: Cheese. We inherited our father's love of it. There is something about the salty, fatty, melty goodness of cheese that neither my sister nor I can resist. Unless, of course, you are our mother, who insists cheese tastes like soap.
Sure, if you eat it only on occasion and in moderation, cheese can be perfectly fine. However, I know I eat too much of it in any given week. Hell, I probably eat too much of it in any given day. That amount of saturated fat and sodium can't be a good thing.
I wondered aloud to my sister, during the aforementioned phone call, "I wonder what it would be like to go a month without cheese. I almost want to try it."
"You should do it," she said. "I'll do it, too!"
We agreed that getting through a muenster moratorium during the holidays would be torturous, so we would wait until the new year, and make it a January resolution.
I told my co-worker, Lindsay, about our decision, and just a few days ago, she informed me that she would join us in our attempt to get through 31 fromage-free days. This includes all forms of cheese, such as cream, cottage, and even "cheese food" like Kraft's sprinkle parmesan.
As this is the last day of December, I am almost tempted to have cheese in every meal. You know, get my cheese ya-ya's out.
It's going to be an interesting experiment. We've agreed that, if we feel a moment of weakness coming on, we can call each other. We are our each other's cheese sponsors.
At the end of January, I hope to be able to report back that I am, indeed, more powerful than the cheese.
Wish me luck.
