or the benjamins or whatever. What I’m trying to say it there may be no bite of cheese as satisfying as a rich chunk of clothbound cheddar, bits falling to the floor and butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. Pictured above is the royal Monty’s, reigning king of bandage wrapped goodness. Until recently that is, but now the light has begun to fade on this superpower, inconsistencies abound and fissures fleck the interior. Monty’s at its best is still a beautiful piece of cheese, but how about this looker below?

I guess I’ve always preferred Lincolnshire Poacher. It is the high note to Monty’s beef brothiness; the Poacher I dream of is like a cool slice of pineapple drizzled with brown butter. We tasted through a few batches of each recently and the cheeses were all over the place. That’s one thing about these farmstead cheddars, I have never found them to be very consistent. I only got a whisper of tropical fruit from the Poacher, and a meatiness more like french onion soup from the Monty’s. The best advice I have is, if you see one being cracked at a cheese shop, get a piece then! A freshly cut wheel releases every ounce of what it’s got, like the perfume from a charentais melon, and it never gets better than at that very moment.