Wine in a Box, Cheese in a Can

Have you ever wanted to host a wine and cheese party, but didn’t know where to being? No, not at all? Too bad. That’s what I’m writing about anyway.

This past weekend, the Condons at the ‘fax held a small gathering for some friends in the area under the moniker “Wine and Cheese and Mayhem.” I know what you are thinking – what’s with the name. Well, the first two components happened to be the pre-selected food and drink for the evening, while the latter components was thrown in thanks to my marketing savvy ways. I didn’t learn much from my marketing major, but I did learn that in order to have a marketable product, it helps to give the people what they want. And in my strange line of thought, I decided that above all else, people just really want mayhem. Therefore, proclaim it, and hope that lots of wine erases any notion of empty promises.

Ok, with the invitation in the mail, it’s time to make you can at least come through on the pledge to have wine and cheese. And since the current State of the Fridge address only can vouch for some sandwich slices for American and very un-winelike case of Yuengling, it looks like an external supplier must be sought out. Good thing we live within walking distance to the Roman Coliseum of supermarkets.

Road Trip to Wegman’s!

Wegman’s, much unlike supermarkets named after a kings of their respective jungles, has the style and the floor space to house extensive wine and cheese selections. They actually have a wine cellar. But unlike most cellars, it is well-lit, well-ventilated, and I would be more than happy to evacuate to such a cellar the next time a tornado threatens Northern Virginia.

No wine cellar is complete without a WineGod. This is the guy who roams the shelves and shelves of wine, having a vast base on wine-to-food pairings at his fingertips. Having chicken cacciatore with a side of asparagus? He’ll pull this rieseling from some one-armed vineyard guy in Germany off the shelf. Having steak with a side of steak, to be followed by a steak truffle? Cabernet, hand picked by some guy he knows in the Napa Valley. Dining on Tater Tots and Fritos? Go upstairs, you cretin. WineGod has no time for you.

(But he will suggest a Zinfandel under his breath.)

Once your cart has been filled to the brim with wine, it’s time to head upstairs to the cheese section. Wow, it occurs to me that “cheese section” does not nearly do the place justice. Let’s say that the standard back-of-store chilled case with the obligatory cheese foods, blocks, and bags of shredded variety can be represented by that baseball field you grew up near that had the dirt infield and the orange roll-up fence for an outfield boundary. Got it?

Wegman’s is Yankee Stadium.

First thing you need to realize is this. At least 70% of the cheese there will be completely foreign to you. (And this has nothing to do with the fact 70% of the cheese is actually from other countries.) Also, as helpful as the WineGod was downstairs, there is no CheeseGod upstairs. Just a stockboy, removing fresh mozzarella from a container of ice and water.

I had no idea that mozzarella was an underwater cheese.

Nonetheless, stick to what you know – buy what you can pronounce, what’s not too expensive, what actually looks like cheese. Take a few leaps unto the unknown, and even brie can be seen as an option. If there’s ever an occasion for brie, it’s a wine and cheese and mayhem party. Not exactly your NFL-watching cheese.

There’s a lot more prep work involved, but I’m out of space. My internal editor just smacked me in the back of the head. More later.

(Postscript: There was a limited supply of mayhem. But I think somebody mistook it for a nice merlot.)