At our recent DTS Graduation Meal, my good friend Ryan began to sully the innocent activity of cheese connoiseurship with political controversy by suggesting that various cheeses have an inherent bias towards certain parties. He has his own opinions on what these biases might be, but I thought I would set out my own views on the subject by considering a classic supermarket cheeseboard selection.
Red Leicester seems an easy one to start with — its colour clearly demonstrates its socialist sympathies, and further investigation reveals that its geographical namesake also reliably elects Labour MPs to its three seats. In terms of the cheese’s flavour it is creamy, mellow, inoffensive.
Again, its distinctive colour makes the affiliation of this cheese easily identifiable on the British political spectrum–blue is, for some reason, the Conservative colour.
What’s more, in the incredibly conservative world of cheese-naming legalities (in which EU regulations permit only cheeses made within a particular clearly-defined geographical area to use certain prestigious titles), it turns out that Stilton exemplifies this spirit of preservationist politicking in a peculiar way. For Stilton the Cambridgeshire village is in the midst of a passionate campaign to demonstrate that although Stilton the cheese has been produced in the Midlands for the last two hundred years, actually historical evidence shows that it was the eponymous village who were the cheese’s original manufacturers. (This essay on the historical evidence for such a claim is an informative and amusing read.)
A distinctively British cheese (apparently in the opinion of George Orwell it was second only to Stilton in the cheese championships), often combined with cranberries or apricots. Some — I’m again looking again in the direction of the esteemed Mister Ryan Macmahon — consider this fruitiness ‘controversial’, but on the whole Wensleydale is surprisingly popular.
Translating this into the political sphere, I think the most natural affiliation would be with a party which is proudly British, which has also courted controversy with its ‘fruitiness’, and which appeals to the sort of small business owner who finds EU legislation a tiring and troublesome obstacle.
Soft and creamy, yet with that hard white mouldy rind that no-one is quite sure what to do with, this is a cheese that defies simplistic left/right classification. A vital part of a British cheeseboard, and yet with undisguised internationalist sympathies. Not quite as popular as maybe it should be.
Cheddar is everyman’s cheese, the choice of the person who is perhaps only dimly aware that there are other cheeses. Come Christmas and the celebratory cheeseboard that makes its obligatory annual appearance, this person might step out of the boat and try a taste of the Blue Stilton or the Red Leicester, but for most of the year cheese is something to be grated onto spaghetti or sliced into a sandwich, not self-consciously smudged onto a post-dinner cracker — and ‘cheese’ can reliably be taken to mean ‘Cheddar’.
Thus cheddar must represent the largely disengaged apolitical majority of the British electorate–occasionally there may come an election, or a referendum, and they may be persuaded to enter the political fray and remember to trudge to the polling booth and cast their lot in with the left or the right or the alternative protest party, but on a day-in/day-out basis they find politics distant and disinteresting.
So it’s over to you now to discuss and debate my political opinions. And there’s plenty more analysis that the world of political cheese could still use: would Parmesan, a hard Italian cheese, be hard-line Fascist? would Feta inevitably crumble like the Greek economy? what cheese best represents the Scottish Nationalist Party? I look forward to hearing your comments.