Now it looks likely our next PM will be someone given to unsettling rants about national preferences in cheese, what better time to explore Britain's history through that lens? Though Truss will be disappointed that even Mrs Beeton only put seven British cheeses in her selection of 20, and awarded Parmesan the crown. A disgrace! Albeit maybe not so much of a disgrace as the notion of a 21st century country which still somehow just about counts as a major world economy being run by someone for whom even an emblematic Victorian is an unpatriotic backslider. Still, let us turn from our nation's ongoing descent into risible hellhole status to the far happier notion of cheese. Ned Palmer started out in the field working at Borough Market and then Neal's Yard Dairy, but here travels everywhere from remote farms of significant cheesemakers to the archives, where among other things he is unable to find the evidence for the oft-made claim about Cheshire cheese being mentioned in Domesday. There's plenty he does find, though, and even more he can infer from a combination of evidence and experience. Have you ever wondered what sort of cheese the Cyclops was making in the Odyssey? Somehow I never had, but was delighted all the same when from historical, practical and textual evidence, Palmer establishes that it is very much not beyond all conjecture; indeed, he makes a solid case for its being something much like Manchego. You might point out that, wherever exactly Polyphemus' isle was, it almost certainly wasn't British, so why is that here? Because, while Palmer has set himself quite a task ("I'll recount the stories of how these cheeses came to be, why they were popular at that time, how they might have tasted or looked, who made them, who ate them, what their lives might have been like, and how they and their cheeses were shaped by the currents of history, religion, war plague, supermarkets and the Milk Marketing Board."), he can't resist an interesting digression. And besides, the story of cheese has always been international – even if the idea that it was the Romans who brought it here has now been disproven, with evidence of cheese being manufactured in the British Isles as far back as 4,000 BC – which, for scale, is more than a millennium before there was a single pyramid in Egypt. Hell, it turns out that pyramids and all the other apparatus of settled life may be pretty much by-products of cheese which, alongside beer, is a plausible candidate for why so much of humanity abandoned the nomadic lifestyle, despite the initial decline in health which came with it. Not that this was the only way in which cheese changed us, the archaeological record also suggesting it went ahead of, and encouraged, the mutation enabling adults to cope with dairy more generally. And that's just the physical impact; spiritually, Palmer has found heretical sect the Artotyrites, who replaced the bread in the Mass with cheese – though isn't it just typical of the irretrievable conflict-addicted wretchedness of Christianity that you've got one lot with bread, one with cheese, and nobody who had the sense to combine the two? Plus plenty on the intersection of superstition and witchcraft with cheese - including why the methods for lifting a curse on your cheese might work even if you don't buy into the metaphysics. Throughout, the tone is chatty but never clownish, informed but never pedantic, and while I may disagree on occasional points (personally I do favour Cheddar that takes the roof of your mouth off), Palmer never got my back up. He's as at home with the science bits about mould and bacteria and different milks as the history, and able to bring them back down to earth with descriptions of what the cheese actually tastes like that mean something to me – that might not sound like much, but particularly given my idiosyncratic palate, an awful lot of food writers don't manage it (or else they make basic errors like talking about the 80% of foods whose taste I don't want to think about). Some of the stuff he digs up is probably pretty specific to the cheese fan in terms of whether it's going to be of interest, like why port and stilton have become a standard pairing (clue: it's not about their particularly complementary flavours), but elsewhere, while it still probably wouldn't be an obvious choice of reading for a vegan, there's material with a wider relevance, like the way making cheese was yet another profession where, as it became more professionalised, women were suddenly decided to be incapable of something they'd been doing for ages, not least because otherwise they might have ended up giving men orders, and that would never do. Consider the Cheese War, which I'd never heard of despite going to school next to its Sarajevo, and whose story is painfully relevant in another time of food inflation; consider also the non-capitalised pasteurisation wars, which like the story of weird additives in general can only become more of a terrible warning at a time when food standards and small businesses are both going on the bonfire as part of the eternal quest to find some trace of that glorious Brexit dividend we were promised. And all this in a landscape which, for all that Palmer, writing in 2019, presents it as blossoming after the overthrow of the Milk Marketing Board's hegemony*, was still a long way from what it had been before industrialisation and (in both the literal and general senses) homogenisation. Case in point: the chapter on Stilton, which includes some sterling detective work as regards the cheese's origins, and the holes in the traditional narrative thereof, but which also comes up to the present day (or the pre-Event present, anyway) with the story of a cheesemaker who can't use the protected designation Stilton for the Stilton he makes the traditional way, with unpasteurised milk, because despite the fact that naming system is meant to protect traditional methods, it's locked to the use of pasteurised milk, which only came in a few decades back, and the only people who could change that are the manufacturers, who by definition all make the modernised version.
*Which, of course, in turn screwed dairy farmers, as he acknowledges, pointing out that there was really no need for the organisation not to be able to help both them and cheese farmers except that somehow that's always the way bureaucracy seems to go, isn't it?