Cheese commands greater respect from me because I’ve endured the ordeal necessary to make cheddar and other hard cheeses.
The instructions presume a cheesemaker whose day is unfettered by constraints. No work, family, pets, short attention span, or other real life obligations can interfere with the exacting process. And I mean exacting. Here’s one line from a typical cheddar recipe. “Raise the temperature two degrees every five minutes, cutting the curd into half-inch cubes in a slow continuous motion when the whey reaches 118 degrees.”
And then there’s aftercare. Cheddar must be pressed under increasing weights and aged at a temperature we can only achieve at my house by storing it in an attic-y closet for a few months in the winter. Needless to say, hard cheese is made infrequently around here. Too much real life going on like work, family, pets, and my tendency to behave badly.