Even wensleydale

Ah, wensleydale; this soft and crumbly cheese never fails to remind me of that scene in A Close Shave−cut to Wallace’s horrified gulp when Wendolene declares she can’t stand the stuff. Don’t worry, Wallace, I eat cheese! Even wensleydale! I was actually donated this particular brand, Sainsbury’s Traditional Wensleydale, by my northern housemate, who bought it by mistake: One man’s accidental purchase = my delicious snack.

Here, I’m chomping it with pumpkin seeds & oats ryvita, a pleasing contrast between the slightly bitter tanginess and a crunchy, oaty cracker.

Last weekend, completely by coincidence, I stopped by the home of Traditional Wensleydale: a small market town in Yorkshire named Hawes. I was not there to eat wheels of cheese however. We went to watch many many wheels flew by as part of The Grand Départ.

We had initially intended to station ourselves at the delectably named Buttertubs Pass to get the best view of the ascending cyclists; instead we found ourselves a perfectly decent viewing spot just a short distance away from the centre of Hawes.

Despite Stuart suffering two punctures and nearly colliding with a skittish goat en route, it was a truly delightful day, and we glimpsed an abundance of lycra and expensive bikes zooming by for at least five minutes.

I only wish I had known we would be visiting the birthplace of wensleydale (I learnt this after my cheese-donating housemate informed me later); we could have enjoyed The Wensleydale Creamery Visitor Centre! Wallace would have been so proud. But hey, there’s always next time.