It is not every day a lump of cheese arrives through the letterbox.
Fair enough, I am known to be a lover of cheese. I am happy to devour anything from a really mature Cheddar - which reminds me to ask whether that audacious plan to resume the production of Cheddar in Cheddar ever materialised - to the smelliest Livarot.
I even choose the hotel for occasional overnight stops in Burgundy because of its splendid cheese trolley.
But the little food parcel delivery took me by surprise.
The package contained a modest chunk of Comté, one of the first French cheeses to gain the Appellation d'origine contrôlée status, as long ago as 1958, and produced exclusively from the milk of the brown and white Montbeliarde cow.
I have an interest to declare: one of my daughters is involved with the publicity campaign to drive up UK sales.
In a fair world, a promotional portion of Franche-Comté would be accompanied by the tickets to go on location or, at the very least, a bottle of fine Bordeaux or Burgundy.
But it is not a fair world and that, at least, makes my opinion more valid. I loved it. More character and flavour than Tomme de Savoie, which often graces my table, and therefore much more than Cheddar, with a good hard-cheese texture. And it went down perfectly well with a half-price Côtes du Ventoux from Tesco.
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