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The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastily Written & Slopilly Edited
Monday, September 27, 2004   |    Etc.

Why Cheese?

by
Cheese-Fancying Readers of Y.P.R.

In our (now antiquated) submissions guidelines, we asked writers to include with their work a list of three reasons why they liked to eat cheese. There was no good reason for asking this—or if there was we’ve forgotten it. In any case, we’ve got all this raw data that is not particularly interesting (except, maybe, in that it exists at all) or useful, but it is collected. So, if you’re really, really bored or really, really curious about why people like to eat cheese, enjoy. (And, if you are, in fact, really, really curious about why people like to eat cheese, please do tell us why that interests you: i_like_people_who_like_cheese @ yankeepotroast.org.)

  1. The mouth feel.
  2. The saltiness of it.
  3. Everything’s better with cheddar.



  1. Yellow.
  2. Melty.
  3. Milky.



  1. A woman needs calcium at all points in her life.
  2. What would nachos be without it?
  3. Three words: Polly-O String Cheese.



  1. Peanut butter on nachos tastes terrible, especially if you’re using those lime-flavored chips.
  2. Eaten in mass quantities, cheese can have a binding effect, which, for someone with my “condition,” can be extremely appealing.
  3. If you eat the real milk-based kind, it makes vegans mad.



I like cheese because:
  1. Cheese is the only weakness of the evil bacteria living in my esophagus.
  2. I only eat foods with double vowels in them (I go to Ikea a lot).
  3. If I didn’t chew on cheese, I’m sure I’d start smoking again.



  1. Any food with holes in it—what’s not to love? Damn, sister, cheese!
  2. It comes in a wide array of colors ranging from blue to orange to white and back again.
  3. You can use cheese as a scapegoat for any unpleasant personal odor. Not many other foods can stand up to that.




I promise to lavish your desk with my favorite cheeses… muenster, provolone and cheddar. But I must confess I don’t like any of them all that well.


Cheese: I like to eat cheese because I am lactose intolerant. I like to eat cheese because I am lactose intolerant and cheese forces me into fits of vomiting and violent diarrhea. I like to eat cheese because sometimes when you are out to dinner or a guest in someone’s home and they are not exactly people you know terribly well, in that case, fits of vomiting and violent diarrhea might not be the most appropriate place to take the conversation so instead you smile a bit and say yes I like to eat cheese and then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom.


I like lots of cheese melted, covering, stringy in a large pan of lasagna.


  1. It is the only food group outside of wine and crackers.
  2. It comes in yellow or white or both.
  3. Some cheeses are green but you can still eat them; I particularly like their toes.



Uno: Mold is one of the four basic food groups in my home, though not by choice.

Dos: Blue cheese, Stilton, and Roquefort have pleasing striations of mold that provide a lovely color complement to the greenish blue hair on the celery in my crisper.

Tres: Cheese is creamy.


I do not like to eat cheese; I find it has more of an effect if snorted.


  1. My toes don’t know what to do with it.
  2. Either I eat the cheese or the cheese eats me.
  3. The thing to do is eat cheese and not be afraid of cutting it.



My reasons for eating cheese are: 1) because I’m not lactose intolerant; 2) because I know people who ARE lactose intolerant and like to gloat like a bastard; and 3) because the Gods of Dairy demand it.


I like cheese because it cures the shakes.
I like cheese because it coats the throat.
I like cheese because cheese likes me.



Three reasons I like to eat cheese: Snob appeal and because I am lactose-obsessive. Oh, and it tastes good, especially brie.


Three facts about cheese: Sometimes cheese is yellow. Sometimes cheese is not. I don’t like blue cheese.


I like cheese because
  1. It melts.
  2. It’s a great camouflaging device for Taco Bell.
  3. A cheeseburger is just a hamburger without it.



Why I like to eat cheese:

Reason 1: It enhances the flavor of everything except my weekday breakfast food (Frosted Mini-Wheats ®).

Reason 2: With the right mysterious organic material and a warm, damp environment—and plenty of patience—I can make my own.

Reason 3: It goes perfectly with beer (I’m a pretty refined dude like that).


As to the three reasons why I eat cheese, well, it’s all so simple, isn’t it? It melts, it sounds funny when you say it, and it’s incredibly fattening.


For the record, I’m lactose intolerant and enjoy cheese only when I’m feeling cruel and self-deprecating. And Pepper Jack preferably, then.


I like cheese because it is yellow, white, and brown—and often in the same bite.


I would tell you all sorts of things about cheese, but I’ve given up discussing dairy products for Lent. Sorry.


I eat cheese for the following three reasons: location, location, location.


As for cheese, I don’t care how fucking runny it is.


The cheese-eating reasons: it keeps me alive, it keeps me smiling, it keeps me sexy.


Paper beats cheese, although scissors beats ’em both.


There cannot possibly be three valid reasons to like eating cheese.


Three reasons I like to eat cheese:
  1. Sometimes it is yellow, and sometimes it is white. And sometimes, yellow cheese is white, in the North.
  2. It makes a great snack. Not so great a meal. I like snacks.
  3. When you say it, you get to say “e” for a really long time. And if you say “eat cheese” you get say “e” twice.



I like cheese because it is rotten.
I like cheese because it sweats.
I like cheese because I can eat it molten.



I like my cheese the same way I like my men: smelly, bitter, and in individually wrapped slices. Do a lot of people tell you they like to cut the cheese?


I can not say that I have often reflected on why I like cheese, however under duress my three top reasons are as follows:
  1. It melts better than most metallic substances.
  2. It satisfies my desire to travel to the moon.
  3. It rhymes with ‘jeeeeeeeeez’.
I would go on, but my provolone omelette is on fire.


THREE REASONS I EAT CHEESE!
  1. To keep cows employed.
  2. I have grandparents in Wisconsin (for all I know).
  3. In a still vain attempt to overcome my lactose intolerance. (Oops! Gotta run!)



Three reasons I like to eat cheese:
  1. Radical defiance of my body’s lactose intolerance,
  2. It’s so darn good, and
  3. It seems like something worthwhile.



Oh, and I like to eat cheese because it makes my farts stink, it makes me sleepy and it triggers my irritable bowel syndrome.


I like cheese because: Pizza would be awful without it; it’s Atkins-approved (Yeah, right. If someone says “no/lo carb” to me one more time I’m gonna kick them hard), and it’s one way of catching mice if you live in the city. (I do.)


Cheese is good. I like it on Packer fans’ heads. I don’t like it on toes.


Three reasons I like eating cheese:
  1. It is delightfully squishy—like the bread at the supermarket they won’t let you squeeze.
  2. The smell of it stays on your fingers all day. You can shake someone’s hand, and they will come away knowing you’ve had cheese.
  3. Cartoon mice like cheese. How many other things in life afford you the opportunity of pretending to be a cartoon mouse without social scrutiny?



  1. I spent time in Wisconsin.
  2. I wrote an essay on Swiss cheese once.
  3. I want to go to the moon.



And about the cheese: reason: 1) it’s great with olives (not so with pickled onions), 2) try it grated in the centre split of a hot dog with chili and barbecue sauce plus, of course, fried onions and 3) the reässurance that despite the high calcium content protecting teeth for all those many, many uses, the teeth factor detracts from the fat content which should be ignored when considering brie is nothing less than sublime.


  1. I peel back cheese strings and pretend they’re pompoms, do the cheddar cheer.
  2. I like to smush cheese between my teeth and gums.
  3. Saying the various names of cheese makes me feel sexy, or intellectual, or both… repeat after me, slowly in a low, husky, kinda C.F.M. voice: Gorgonzola… Edam… Gouda… Cool, eh?



  1. I get it free from The Man.
  2. It tastes better than soap.
  3. It’s often nontoxic.



  1. It’s easy to slice.
  2. It’s a traditional family snack.
  3. It’s ideal in grilled cheese sandwiches.



The author’s interest in cheese is varied and cannot be contained within three simple dictates. As a random sampling, he would have to say he holds cheese close to his heart because:
  1. His heart is where the cheese is going to wind up anyway, so why not give it a brief preview of the neighborhood.
  2. When it is kept out of refrigeration and wrapped tightly in plastic, it produces a patina of sweat that gives the cheese, regardless of type or strength, an alluring shimmer.
  3. Eating it rightly makes him feel like a big shot.



O.K., I like cheese because it’s not healthy; because it wouldn’t be a cheeseburger without it; and I like to melt it to boiling point and drip it on my enemies.


To “eat cheese” is to rat somebody out.


I eat a lot of cheese because I’m a vegetarian, because it has a lot of calcium, and because I like it.


Yo, cheese. Three reasons. First, two words: melted on a stick. Right? Mmmm. Second? Cheesy s’mores, the perfect Hallowe’en treat. Graham cracker, chocolate, cheese slab, marshmallow, graham cracker. Mmmm. Third, it has something to do with Babe the Pig… wait, it’s coming to me… a voice… the “Behold: The power of cheese” voice is in the movie Babe. See? So six degrees of Kevin Bacon goes like this: Kevin Bacon; Bacon=pig; pig=Babe; then the part about the voice; then the Cheese guy and the “Behold” thingy and WHAMO! You guys are related to Kevin Bacon.


As to cheese:
  1. It melts real good.
  2. Macaroni wouldn’t be the same without it.
  3. Wallace likes it, especially Wensleydale.



  1. Cheese can be dunked in coffee.
  2. Cheese is often found between the legs of unwashed convicts.
  3. I like eating cheese because I am (admittedly) Caucasian.



Eating cheese sucks.


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