Once every month or so, a local store will have the basic bags of shredded cheese on sale 4 for $5. The going rate around here is usually at least $1.75 each if they are on sale at one of the other stores, but more usually $2.25 each.
So I buy quite a few bags during the cheap weeks to last until the next cheap week… but so does everyone else who shops at that store, so sometimes it can be limited on what options are on the pegs at the time. Nobody has ever really complained about any of the types except the low-fat, so as long as it is some sort of cheddar variation, I just grab what they’ve got and don’t worry much about it.
And so we end up with situations like today where I went to set out some cheddar cheese for tacos, and found that we had 5 different bags that were each less than 1/4 full, and each one was some different variety of cheddar.
And so, rather than put all 5 bags out with the other fixings, or worse open a new full bag, I took the five, and while I was finishing the meat, I began combining them… with the goal of a single bag.
My daughter walked into the kitchen about the time that I was pouring a “colby jack” blend into a bag of “taco” blend. And gave me a horrified look as she gasped “That one isn’t the taco cheese!!!”
I tried to logic with her that they were both cheddar… and point out that she liked both of them, and used both of them on her tacos.
She responded by grabbing the rest of the bags from the counter, acting like I had been trying to poison her, and telling me that they aren’t supposed to go together.
And she sat in there, at the table, the rest of the time that I was cooking to make sure that the bags of cheese didn’t get dumped together.
But then, when she was making her plate, she proceeded to add some cheese from each and every bag. I pointed out to her that they were mixed on her food just the same as if they had been mixed in the bag… and she insisted that they didn’t mix, they were layered.
And every time she went back over to the counter, she counted the bags to make sure they were all still present. When one was missing, because we had finished it, she got annoyed with me, and even went as far as to go ask grandma to make sure that grandma had used some from that bag to back up my story of it being empty.
And when the leftovers had all been put away, she actually checked in the fridge drawer to make sure that the three remaining remnants of bags had all been put back, no matter how little they all had in them.
I guess I need to start watching which version of cheddar I grab… or at least making sure they look close enough that she can’t tell if I combine them (more carefully) next time!