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.
Image via Tumblr