Curds and Weigh

Today we were going to talk about sausages, but I got a little sidetracked. I was tagged on Facebook by a friend of mine with one of those quiz doodads, which reminds me, I need to post that later today. This internet outage has really done a number on my internet-social life. Anyway, one of the questions had to do with my favorite fast-food restaurant. Since I stopped eating dead things, that pretty much put the kibosh on fast food with the exception of one. We eat there because I can’t give up on frozen custard (more on frozen custard later) and crinkle fries that are rarely icky and cold. Since it seems to be a Midwestern mecca, I felt this was a good place to mention it – Culver’s. (Culver's if you're watching, I have three followers. You may now send me a check for tens of pennies for all the business I've thrown your way.)

Culver’s has some pretty awesome fast-food. It’s hard to call it “fast” since you order it, they give you a number, they cook it, and then they bring it to you (one of their big advertising slogans has to do with the “never under the lights” deal) and I have to admit that it’s pretty good. You can order whatever you want on your sandwich (extra pickles on your chicken sandwich? NBD) and they serve the aforementioned crinkle fries and frozen custard [chocolate, vanilla, and a flavor of the day (Heath bar crunch! Snickers Surprise! Oreo Cookie Explosion!)] with a bunch of toppings. They also serve fried cheese curds.

Now, I separate cheese curds into two varieties: cooked and uncooked. Both of these were described to me by the same coworker, whom I took aside one day and asked, “D__, what are cheese curds?”

I like this woman for many reasons. Chief among them is that she doesn’t care if you ask a question like that. Once, I asked a guy operating as cart in New York what a “knish” was, and he looked at me like I was crazy or stupid or both. And then he answered in one word: “Potato.”

So I ordered one. And I received something that in no way resembled a potato. Until I ate it, and then I understood what he was talking about, and I did not deserve the "crazy-or-stupid" look. It didn't look like "potato."

Pardon the digression. Back to le fromage. So, according to D., cheese curds can be eaten uncooked, but are best “very fresh,” so they squeak against your teeth.

So cool. I love foods that come with activity. Unfortunately, every time I go to the store to purchase them, they look like brains in a bag. I can’t get over the visual. I’m sure they’re delicious, but I can’t get over the brain-cheese.

And fried cheese curds? Well, those are curds that have been battered and deep-fried.

Honey, I’m sold. I’ve been to the North Carolina State Fair, where someone dared me to eat an ostrich burger. They will deep-fry you an Oreo cookie, a Snickers bar, or a Twinkie (or hell, if you want to go into insulin shock, all three) at that fair, and if that’s not fatty enough for you, they will probably put some butter on them. Fried cheese curds, I find, you can get at the Wisconsin State Fair or at Culver’s. I buy mine at Culver’s (I’m not waiting around for the next state fair) and they really are everything she promised.

So I go back to D. and tell her that we are going to be millionaires. If we sold these little bits of fried cheese goodness in the South, I tell her, with some real Wisconsin brats (sausages, not small obnoxious children), we would make a killing.

She looks doubtfully at me.

“D. listen," I say. "The South? Home of onion rings and barbecue? Deep fried everything? The only place the Monte Cristo sandwich is ever ordered, with a side of fries? We’re talking about deep-fried cheese and sausages.

We’re going to be wealthier than Bill Gates.

Of course, we’re going to be responsible for a hell of a lot of heart disease, because of all the weight we’re going to be responsible for.”

I should know. It took a while to lose the curd-weight for my wedding.