By this point, y’all know the story. Once upon a time I got stuck in Germany for six months due to a global pandemic…
Previous to this six month stent in Germany, I was living in Beijing and my boyfriend, now husband, booked a 10 day vacation for me to visit him in Germany! He’s quite the charmer, I know!
We had only been dating for about seven months at this time and had been living in separate countries for roughly 3 months. To say we were excited to see each other would be a huge understatement.
Well, as the story goes Covid rocked the entire world just as I was settling in for my 10 day vacation.
Being a new couple and having spent a long time living in different countries, we defiantly were shocked, yet absolutely stoked to be stuck together for the foreseeable future.
Now- Being a new couple has it’s challenges and learning curves, especially if you are an overly independent person, such as myself. Take the added bonus of being from opposite ends of the earth, language and cultural barriers all bottled with being thrown into this new “normal” of living and being in each other’s space 24/7 made for some pretty explosive moments.
Swiss Cheese- Yup, you read that correctly SWISS CHEESE.
One of our most epic arguments happened in the middle of a German grocery store and it was over SWISS CHEESE.
Now- If you’ve ever traveled to Europe, you may have an idea as to what lead to my epic adult meltdown about Swiss cheese in the middle of this German grocery store, but if you haven’t damn are you in for a treat, buckle up and grab a beer!
We were at the grocery store gathering supplies for a family bbq. I love to eat so by default, I love to cook.
Now- This wasn’t just any cookout. This was going to be the first time I would cook anything for Max’s family. So, of course I went with an American classic, mac and cheese! I thought, let’s give these Germans a real taste of America!
What’s a better representative of a typical American diet than consuming mounds of wheat dough slathered in a sauce made of flour, heavy whipping cream and more butter than any one person should consume in a single lifetime. A sauce so rich, it will have your Cardiologist in tears…
Then, the finale of layering two different types of cheese in between layers upon layers of this gooey gold and topped off with a nice 30 minute bake just to really bring it all home! Yup! That’s it! That’s the dish I will prepare to win the hearts of my new found German family!
ANYWAY- We are in the grocery store. It’s time to pick out my four different cheeses for my epic mac and cheese dish!
Shredded cheddar, check! Shredded mozzarella, check! Gouda, check! Swiss… no where to be found.
I told Max that I really needed Swiss cheese for this dish so if he could help me and look harder, that would be great. I was already becoming visibly frustrated. He kept asking me “What type of Swiss cheese?” I kept saying over and over until I felt my blood pressure rising and my ears becoming red, SWISS CHEESE! SWISS CHEESE! The cheese with the holes! He still wasn’t getting it.
There was no other way for me to explain it, Swiss cheese is Swiss cheese, right? WRONG.
I finally took to my translator.
English word: Swiss
Translation: schweizerisch
He looked at me as if I were speaking in tongues. He was visibly growing more and more confused, frustrated and annoyed.
By this point I was already extremely frustrated. The fact that I seemed to be speaking to a wall began to really make my blood boil. So, I googled a picture of Swiss damn cheese to show him. Guess what? IT DIDN’T WORK! The picture seemed to confuse him even more, again. By this point I was boiling hot mad. I thought, why didn’t he understand me? His English is great!
You are probably thinking, damn Kendall, take a chill pill. Why so upset over something so small?
Let me explain.
Before the current situation, you know, stuck in Germany. I had been living for a couple years abroad, in China. While I love China and really really loved living there it wasn’t without many daily struggles.
Being a foreigner in China and trying to do normal every days tasks like get to work, order something online, find something at the grocery store or pay your electric bill (after your utilities had already been shut off because you had no idea you needed to feed the utility meter outside your apartment door) could prove to take you on a journey of self discovery only to leave you feeling extremely frustrated, alone and sometimes, scared.
As you can see, the damn Swiss cheese situation was starting to bring up feelings I had felt while living alone in China. I was indeed still in a foreign country but I was with someone who was very familiar with the inner workings of this country so thus far, it had been smooth sailing. Until now…
Finally Max had enough of my shenanigans and takes me to the cheese deli counter.
Now- this is unlike any deli I’ve ever seen. It seemed like there were miles and miles of what looked like the fanciest damn cheese I’d ever a seen in my entire life. Next to every wedge, wheel and blob of cheese there were many tiny little signs with all sorts of stuff written on them as if each cheese entity was giving a PSA as to why you should choose them. I mean, obviously I had no idea what was written on them but it looked so cute while simultaneously appearing very intimidating. There were colors, shapes and textures I’d never even seen before.
Max looks at me, then looks at the mile long cheese counter. “Swiss Cheese” he frustratingly mumbles out while simultaneously gesturing, palm up, with his hand toward the cheese counter.
He explained that all this cheese was from Switzerland, and it’s all Swiss cheese and urged me to choose one.
BUT WHERE ARE THE SLICES WITH THE HOLES??????
Exasperated from the argument, I looked around for what seemed like 3 years while feeling the judgmental stairs of the deli counter lady burning a hole straight through my head as she waited for me to choose a wedge of cheese.
This one is white, close enough I thought. I pointed to my desired cheese selection. The deli lady then asked something in German and of course I didn’t understand. Max turns around to translate for me…
“How old do you want your cheese?”
No grin, no laughing, straight faced and serious as a damn heart attack. “How old do you want your cheese?”
I was flabbergasted.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN HOW OLD DO I WANT MY CHEESE?
Straight faced again, “Yea, how old? Six or twelve months?”
This journey to find Swiss cheese had just taken an extremely comedic turn and I was not even mad about it. I burst out into laughter telling Max over and over “I don’t know!” No one has ever asked me how old I wanted my cheese!
Just tell me, how old do you want your cheese? Max said…
I thought at this point, give me the hard stuff.
Make it the twelve months, I said.
-Kendall
