It started with my mother\u2019s quest to find a snack food that would suit my toddler palate and dexterity. When she handed me a few Cheerios, I tasted one and handed the rest back. A series of other toddler snack attempts followed, but to no avail. Just when it appeared that I was destined for a snackless life, cheese came along, in the form of a fish: cheddar Goldfish, to be precise.<\/p>\n
I was hooked. Goldfish were my first exposure to cheesy goodness. I even had my own name for them: \u201cWop Wops,\u201d which was, I told my mother, what a fish says when it swims. I continued to use the nickname out of habit until an embarrassingly unrepeatable age. Today at 18 I\u2019m pleased to say I no longer use this reference when reaching for my favorite midnight snack… But I\u2019m getting ahead of myself.<\/p>\n
When I was six I named two of my pet fish \u201cMr. and Mrs. String Cheese,\u201d because they had whiskers that resembled the delectable string cheese I had come to love. Unfortunately, \u201cGrumpy,\u201d a bigger fish that shared a tank with Mr. and Mrs. String Cheese, also shared my sentiments about how tasty their whiskers looked and promptly ate his roommates. Grumpy and I were not on speaking terms ever again after that.<\/p>\n
Around the same time as the String Cheese Massacre, I discovered the power of grated Parmesan, which I called \u201cShake Shake,\u201d because that\u2019s what you have to do to get the cheese out of the container. (I also used this nickname until an embarrassingly unrepeatable age.) At first I used Shake Shake just for pasta, but eventually, I was eating it with any kind of meal. Parmesan is still my go-to topping, and if a zombie apocalypse ever occurs, I can assure you that I\u2019ll have enough containers stocked up to last for many years to come.<\/p>\n