You can have all your fancy foodie artisanal cheeses, I’m a Gibbsville guy. Pure Wisconsin cheese. And though a Wisconsinite completely weirded me out the first time I was ever offered one, I came to adore cheese curds. They remained a mystery to me, though, I had no idea how they came to be. Are they some off bi-product of cheese making? Do they fall upon Gibbsville like manna from heaven? Maybe it’s a high tech technology. Something as impenetrable as Sheepshead, full of digital tuffets and industrial weigh. Way. Whatever.

Then wow…I come across actual photographic evidence of the Gibbsville cheese curd machine! I’ve never seen it before. I’ve been to Gibbsville many times–it’s just past Sheboygan, by the big tree–but the cheese curd machine was hidden from view. I always figured it was huge and top secret, like the Hadron Collider. I guess not. Still, this picture is exciting. It’s so atomic age. Not a cow to be seen. Not even a bratwurst. Nor an unsmiling Norwegian working a butter churn. Maybe it’s Friday night and they’re all at Fish Fry. Even the Norwegians go to Fish Fry. They turn off the Lutheran for the night and join the Poles observing Lent. Another round for Olaf here! And ya still got some of dat schnapps dere? Schnapps? You betcha!

Sometimes I really miss Wisconsin, and I never even lived there.


One time we forgot to get cheese curds for the Christmas party and there was a riot.


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