Culture

Shredded cheese memes soothe my soul

In the middle of the night, there it is — a bag of dairy, waiting to be munched.

Culture

Shredded cheese memes soothe my soul

In the middle of the night, there it is — a bag of dairy, waiting to be munched.
Culture

Shredded cheese memes soothe my soul

In the middle of the night, there it is — a bag of dairy, waiting to be munched.

Somehow, there is always at least one bag of shredded cheese in my fridge. It’s been this way as long as I can remember. I don’t recall ever really going out of my way to get a bag at the grocery store, yet it remains a constant in my life.

Shredded cheese works as a garnish for some eggs, or an emergency lasagna christening, but it serves a more immediate function: as a snack. It’s not an everyday snack, but the desire to eat it comes from somewhere deep inside — somewhere unknown. You are not supposed to feed it right into your mouth, but there you are with an unzipped bag, dairy stains on your fingers. In recent months, I’ve realized I’m not the only one acting on this desire. Plenty of other people feel this call to the void, too, which they’ve expressed in the only way people discuss their feelings on the internet: memes.

The meme has been around for a bit now, though it’s not too overexposed, probably because the mood it captures is so… specific. Shredded cheese solidarity gets right to the point by depicting fans as nighttime ghouls, scarfing down what suddenly feels like the only important thing on earth. I love it, for its accuracy. Media representation of marginalized identities is important; this meme sees me, and people like me.

When does one want to eat shredded cheese? It’s funny you ask. The urge takes over almost exclusively at night. Not quite hungry, but not quite full-bellied, anytime after midnight becomes prime cheese snacking time. Creep to the fridge, unzip the bag, and sprinkle a few shreds into your mouth, as the Romans ate grapes.

Now, I want to be clear about something: nothing else satisfies this feeling like shredded cheese. Those little string cheese sticks are nothing in comparison to this. Delicately pinching off each strand of cheese one by one is not efficient or even remotely enjoyable. I don’t have that kind of patience or humility. You shouldn’t either.

Babybel cheese is vile stuff, and even acknowledging it now pains me. Unspooling its waxy cradle feels gross; it truly belongs there, hidden from the world. Plus, does anyone even know what kind of cheese it is? It’s like nothing else I’ve had, in the worst way possible. As for American cheese slices? Get the fuck out of here.

Shredded cheese in the bag is unmatched. Shredded cheese is a light, easy endeavor. Start picking on Cheez-Its at night, and suddenly you’ve eaten an entire box. Make yourself a grilled cheese, and you’ve essentially decided on a second dinner, doomed to plague you with semi-bloated regret when you’re finally in bed. A few handfuls of shredded cheese however, sprinkled directly into your mouth with all the joy of flinging flower petals? Never a bad idea. After a long day, we deserve the very best form of simple cheese product. I can confidently say that this is it.

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