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The Short Rant: the cheese crisis

Cheese. It’s a topic close to my heart.

As a student, I live off cheese on toast, cheese toasties and my renowned cheesy pasta (not to brag, but my flatmate called it heaven).

But as I love my cheese, so the Scots love their Iron Bru. It is, as I found out after loudly denouncing the unofficial national drink of Scotland to Scottish friends, a love that runs deep. So deep, in fact, that it seems to have tainted their cheese a bright, hideous, horrific, probably-glows-in-the-dark orange.

I’m English (shocker, I know). And I’m used to many things: not least of all edible, pale-yellow coloured cheddar. Cheddar that melts. Cheddar that doesn’t taste like plastic feet. Cheddar that, very importantly, doesn’t curdle when you try to make a toastie.

Scottish cheese does not cut it. I shouldn’t have to splash out on Cathedral City every time I want cheese on toast. Using bougie, branded cheese detracts from the integrity of a dish that’s meant to be quick, cheap, and comforting. 

So don’t worry Scots, the English might have tried to take your freedom, but we’ll never take your cheese.

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