I’m often disappointed. It is the price of having a soft heart – even in cooking.
I’ve been wanting to make Beer and Cheese soup for ages. Not being able to lay my hands on any kind of ale during South Africa’s lockdown alcohol ban didn’t help matters. Sure, I could have used the non-alcoholic variety, but I wanted to use a lager.
I popped into Checkers on Sunday morning to get some decent cheddar. The Toppie had got two Castle quarts using the ching I’d given him. Between the folks and I, we had the rest of the ingredients needed to prepare what sounded like a bowl of cheesy hop happiness.
Sadly, it wasn’t… not for me anyway. I found it way too bitter; so much so, that I ended up adding sugar and golden syrup to offset the tartness of the beer. Both the Bean and the Toppie enjoyed it – the latter even had a second helping.
I suppose in a case such as this, one must experiment with the recipe until the perfect fit is found. Maybe a lighter, fruitier beer offset by a sharper cheese, or a pilsner with a sweet Gouda.
Honestly though, I’m not sure if I will make it again. I feel like I’ve been conned by this delectable-looking dish, like a woman who’s been cheated on by her perfect beau; all that cheesy seduction only to be greeted by a bloke who’s already married with a wife, 2.4 kids, and a dog in the ‘burbs.
Reflections of a Misfit 