*This is the title of a great children’s book–read it if you haven’t already!

**Don’t read this post if you are eating.

One of the things Bulgaria is known for is its cheese. They use a goat cheese, similar to feta, on everything from salad to french fries. Now, I love cheese as much as the rest of you. My favorite kind is that powdery, yellow astronaut-looking cheese you mix with milk and put on the macaroni and cheese. You know the stuff. I also enjoy a slightly rubbery, individually wrapped American single on a sandwich or in a quesadilla. If I’m feeling really fancy, I’ll cut up that jalapeno havarti cheese, or eat some brie on a cracker (this is especially popular at the thousands of baby showers, bridal showers, and tupperware/Mary Kay/Pampered Chef parties women force each other to attend).

But the cheese here….well…it’s probably something fantastic to you cheese connoisseurs. To me, it hurts. It smells like old Teva sandals worn for a few too many years. I can almost taste the curdling milk (kids–hate to tell you this, but cheese is made from milk after it is no longer good enough to drink). That being said, I like it in small doses on the salads and french fries, but not on sandwiches or crackers.

I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but Mark and I shop by looking at pictures and guessing what we think the food is. It’s a fun game we play. Sometimes we hit a homerun, like with this tomato-y salsa stuff. Other times we don’t, like today.

It looked like hummus. The roasted red pepper hummus that is especially delicious when you buy it fresh from Henry’s and slather it on pita chips. We got some crackers (as close as we could get to pita chips) and headed on our way. I made a nice ham sandwich, gathered my “hummus” and “pita chips” and relaxed into my lunch. I layered my cracker with a tomato and a giant scoop of the roasted red pepper hummus and bit right into it.

Turns out….NOT ROASTED RED PEPPER HUMMUS at all!!! It was the stinky feet cheese doctored up with some red I-don’t-know-what spice disguised just to trick me into tasting it one more time. Needless to say, I spit that right out of my mouth and ended my dining session right then and there.

Perhaps you are thinking–well, Kristy that was fairly stupid of you to just bite into something before you knew what it was. And I agree. It won’t happen again, I assure you!