curds and whey

i am what you might refer to as a pseudo-midwesterner. i was born and raised in washington state, but this really makes no difference. yes, i have a healthy appreciation for the cascade mountains, the columbia river gorge, smoked salmon, and starbucks coffee. but in my purest moments--and by this, i mean moments when i'm slightly inebriated and less than inhibited--i sound a little bit like a cross between frances mcdormand in fargo and rose nylund. i call pop "pop," rather than pretending that it should be called soda or coke. i root for one of the worst teams in professional football, but i do it with a religious sort of gusto. i always say "please" and "thank you," i get excited when people hold doors for other people, and i--like all proper ladies-- love me some great lakes beer. but perhaps the thing that really separates me from my western brethren is my love of amish country.

yes, amish country.

my first trip was with my grandmother and eccentric uncle extraordinaire. we had lunch at a quaint little chalet, and my uncle yelled really loudly at the poor waitress (who looked like the little girl from the swiss miss box). good times. really. lasting impression made there. but my grandmother bought me a genuine black forest cuckoo clock, so there was that.

i remember wandering through one of the many country stores and looking out at the rolling hills--the kind we definitely don't have in washington. i'm not sure how the midwest did it, but they have perfect, half-sphere hills. none of this volcanic, craggy nonsense!--and seeing the little amish kids running through their fields. it was like witness, but happier! at the time, i was obsessed with the american girl franchise and the idea of getting to wear dresses and do romantic things like farm chores all day long. in that brief instant, i wanted to be amish.

then i went home and remembered how much i loved watching television. so, that idea landed on the proverbial scrap heap.

i have since gone back, and every time, i feel all a-flutter with that desire to knit and bake and scrub floors and have a strict and exclusive religion. seriously. secretly, it's what every woman wants. but the best thing about amish country--at least in the sugarcreek region of ohio-- is heini's cheese chalet.

(lovingly ripped from the queue at flickr)

i know, i know, surely i jest.

i don't jest. i never jest about cheese.

and heini's cheese chalet is the real deal, the motherload, the big kahuna of the cheese world. and how do i know it is the best? well, my friends, i am a seasoned world traveler. i went to france once when i was sixteen. i was there for forty-eight hours. i bet i tried two different kinds of cheeses. heini's beats them both. you know what heini's has that the french don't have?

amish farm milk. seriously. where does anyone get off making cheese without using 100% amish farm milk? they should be ashamed of themselves. why can't we all throw the amish a bone and use their clearly superior product? globalization is a tricky business, i tell you what.

but quite honestly, heini's has got an amazing selection and each and every one--that i've been able to try-- is fantastic. they have flavors like tomato-garlic, garden vegetable, onion, and magic! and the best thing is that when you visit the chalet, you can have free samples of all of these cheeses. no, the kind swiss entrepreneurs at heini's are not there to gouge you. they are there to provide you with no-end of scrumptious cheese.

(also lovingly ripped from flickr)

so, clearly, what you must do is this: drop everything and go to berlin, ohio. (or, you can simply go to their website, but you'll miss out on all the free samples). heini's cheese chalet is waiting for you. you can afford to mess with your precious digestive tract for one day. this cheese will not kill you; it will but make you stronger. go. do it. revel in the magic. and while you're there, give a big "hey-o" to all the people named yoder! they'll be the ones with moses-like beards piloting buckboards. tell them a girl from the internet sent you. see what kind of irritated and/or puzzled looks you can elicit. then, tell them to throw caution to the wind and see what their 100% amish farm milk is going to. then you can share a package of triscuits and some delectable cheese together-- just be sure to turn your cell phone off.