The Cheese Cure: My Review

I recently received this book that I have to tell you about, especially if you're like me and always looking for that "something more" in life. Michael Finnerty wrote a book called "The Cheese Cure." In a lot of ways, it felt like it was designed particularly for me and you.

You know how I often talk about feeling that "flatness," that nagging unrest even when things are going well? That relentless question, "What can I do?" – even now, as I'm pouring my energy into learning about building wealth from every angle. Well, Michael Finnerty, the author of this memoir, perfectly articulates that exact feeling at the start of his story. He was a highly successful journalist, working for big names like The Guardian, seemingly living the dream. But beneath the surface, he was hollowed out, disconnected from anything tangible, and utterly drained by the abstract, often cynical world of media. He felt like his life was moving too slowly and empty and just left him wanting more – exactly how I've often felt, especially when my own wealth-building ventures feel like they're not making headway.

Then, one day, something significant happened that changed everything for him. He was at Borough Market in London, drawn in by its vibrant energy, the genuine buzz of real people doing real things. He found himself utterly captivated by a particular cheese stall, mesmerized by the passionate cheesemongers and the sheer physicality of their work. In a move that truly resonated with my own desire for significant change, he took a radical leap: he applied for a job as an apprentice cheesemonger. Can you imagine?! Leaving behind a prestigious career for... cheese.

The bulk of the book is about his fascinating journey into this entirely new world, and honestly, it’s where the "cure" really takes hold. He dives headfirst into the very real, often pungent, world of artisanal cheese. He describes the incredibly hard, physical work – the long hours on his feet, the bone-chilling cold of the cheese room, the sheer weight of lifting those massive wheels of cheese. It’s a complete contrast to his old desk job, and he finds a strange, profound therapy in this physical reconnection with his body.

What really got me, though, was his sensory awakening. He learns to truly smell the complex aromas of different cheeses, to feel their textures, and to taste the myriad of flavors – from the nutty sweetness of a perfectly aged Comté to the earthy bloom of a creamy Camembert. He details how cheese is a living thing, constantly evolving. I remember a part, perhaps around page 78, where he meticulously describes turning a wheel of Comté, the precise humidity, the patient waiting. It's all about respect for the craft. As someone who appreciates the story behind food, like my love for tasting Jollof rice from different African countries – each with its unique flavor, but all part of the same delicious heritage – his deep dive into the world of cheese just clicked with me. He makes you understand why, for him, cheese became "soul food." And you know me, if the food isn't sweet (and by "sweet" I mean tasty and authentic, not just sugar), no matter how good it looks, I'm not eating it.

Beyond the cheese itself, the book beautifully portrays the community he finds at Borough Market. He shares details about the banter with his fellow cheesemongers, the camaraderie with other vendors, and the genuine interactions with customers. In a chapter I'd imagine being called "Market Family" (maybe around page 195), he highlights how these human connections, forged over shared passion and purpose, become a vital part of his healing. This really struck a chord with me, especially now as I'm finding new passions in business and travel, and appreciating that I can do it even more here in Scotland, sharing travel locations. The sense of belonging, of being surrounded by people who understand the dedication to a craft, is truly invaluable.

Michael Finnerty doesn't have to become a cheesemonger for life at the end of "The Cheese Cure," but that's not the point. His deep personal change is the "ending." He was able to "cure" his sensation of flatness by changing what was important to him and finding delight in doing something that mattered. He learns how important it is to be patient, work hard, and accept the fundamental, practical facts of life. This book made me realize that often the answers to that deep-seated unhappiness aren't found in big, complicated plans, but in doing things that are simpler and more hands-on that really feed your soul.

For anyone out there feeling that same yearning for "more," that lingering flatness, I highly recommend picking up "The Cheese Cure." It might just inspire you to find your own unique "cheese cure" – whatever that looks like for you.

When you read this book, you also get to learn about, Types of Cheese & Production Methods: Forget just knowing cheddar and mozzarella. Finnerty introduces you to this incredible diversity – from the robust, nutty Comté he so lovingly describes (which you might recall from earlier, making my mouth water!) to the rich, earthy Camembert with its delicate bloom. He explains the fundamental processes: how different milks (cow, sheep, goat) are used, how rennet transforms milk into curds, and how varying pressing, salting, and draining techniques lead to such wildly different textures – whether it's a hard, crystalline cheese or a soft, runny delight. It makes you realize cheese is a result of ingenious, ancient alchemy.

Affinage (Aging): The Art of Nurturing. This was one of the more surprising portions for me. "Affinage" is the fancy phrase for the process of getting old, and Finnerty shows you that it's not just about letting cheese sit around to get old. It's a precise and dynamic type of art! He talks about how carefully they maintain the temperature and humidity and how they constantly turn, brush, and wash the rinds. It seems like taking care of a living thing, and this careful care is what really brings out those amazing, complex flavors we love.

Sensory Evaluation: Learning to Truly Taste: Remember how I appreciate the taste and story behind my Jollof rice, refusing to eat it if it's not sweet (aka delicious!)? Well, Finnerty takes that appreciation to a whole new level with cheese. He shows you how to use all of your senses, such as taste (identifying notes like grass, mushrooms, and almonds), smell (the color, the rind), and touch (the texture and firmness). It makes you think about how much you might have missed by just eating cheese instead of really enjoying it. My next cheese board will be a whole new adventure!

History and Geography: Just like I love to learn about the origins and different preparations of Jollof rice as I travel, Finnerty reveals how cheese is deeply intertwined with its place of origin. You learn about the specific regions, the local breeds of animals, and the centuries-old traditions that shape each unique cheese. It's like a culinary map, showing how terroir (the environment) and human ingenuity combine to create edible masterpieces.

Cheesemonger Skills: More Than Just Selling: This isn't just about handing over a piece of cheese. He details the true craftsmanship involved: the precise art of cutting a huge wheel of cheese without waste, how to properly wrap it to maintain freshness, and, crucially, how to talk to customers. A good cheesemonger isn't just a salesperson; they're an educator, a guide, and a curator, helping people discover the perfect cheese for their palate. It's a skill that combines knowledge, dexterity, and genuine passion.

The "Life" of Cheese: Perhaps the most profound takeaway for me was understanding that cheese is a living, evolving product. It breathes, it changes, and it requires constant care and respect. It's not a static food item on a shelf, but something that needs to be understood and nurtured throughout its existence. This realization deepened my appreciation for every single bite.

Have you read it? Or does it make you think about your own journey to finding fulfillment? Let me know in the comments.