When you face blowing away, you want to be among friends. And so, last night, we invited the neighbors over for cheese in the face of Hurricane Irene.
Just the day before, we’d driven out to Chester County, Monsieur Fromage and I, and we’d picked up some extraordinary wedges, so our larder was stocked with Sue Miller’s entire line of Birchrun Hills Farm cheeses. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing them all if the power went out and the fridge went dark.
Luckily, my neighbors dig the funk. Here’s how the storm of cheese and Irene went down.
6:30 p.m. The rain hits.
7:00 p.m. Madame Fromage sets the table.
7:30 p.m. Cheese lovers dash across the street for nourishment.
8:00 p.m. There is windswept salad, plenty of beer.
9:00 p.m. Our very own “storm catcher” receives texts on her Bad News Blackberry
10:00 p.m. Loved ones ring. There are phonecalls in the foyer.
Midnight: I'm still thinking about Little Chardy, Sue's great Brie.
4:00 a.m. The chimney falls in. The ceiling snaps.
10 a.m. I’m blogging, feeling lucky to have a roof and good friends, but I'm also wondering about the cows I met at Sue's farm two days ago, like Little Chardy (below), the namesake cow who inspired the great Brie we all consumed at the height of the storm. Little Chardy, you still there?