Reflections on cheese + bread

Written by Michael Rimar

Nov 1, 2026

Several meals, in Spain and in Scotland, consisted of bread and cheese (and the cucumbers and red peppers I’ve mentioned). When I considered lunching at Settle’s Ye Olde Naked Man Cafe, it was partly because of the ploughman’s lunch: bread, cheese, pickled onions and chutney. I’m not sure when this rather European approach began (for me).
Below, three example of ploughman’s lunch and three assiette campagnarde. You can see from whence the fashion of charcuterie boards derives.

If I really think back…

When I moved to San Francisco, Sep 8, 1976 (yes! I recently had my 50th anniversary) it was a pretty blind move, a self-trust fall? I knew how much I wished to escape the cold winters and humid summers of Brooklyn.  And there was the long-anticipated coming out, which, while living with the family (1976 remember), seemed impossible. I’d been talking about a move with a contact at the SF office of the brokerage company I worked for in Manhattan. I had been dropping breadcrumbs about moving with others but it was assumed to be “talk” - so when I announced it was happening, the words rose from dust for those who hadn’t been listening. That SF office contact had made a similar cold move from the PNW when he was about my age.  He sent me (through interoffice mail) SF Chronicle/Examiner clippings of residence hotel ads for my landing site.  In those days a residence hotel was a respectable choice, unfortunately the term is now associated with near homelessness.

So, on a Monday, nearing the end of August, but I’m feeling winter is imminent, I stood at the bus stop, Flatbush Ave and Fillmore Ave, heading to the subway to Manhattan, to work.  I put in my two week notice that day. 21 yo, no specific plans, only the SF office manager of my (soon former) company as a contact. The Wednesday after the two weeks, I was bound for SFO - and a residence hotel I’d booked by phone. (click on ad to see full page of 1974 classifieds!)

That hotel, The Cornell, was just off Powell St, in earshot of the streetcars’ bells. I’ll share more about that eye/mind-opening experience at some point. In those 2 weeks I looked for work and thanks to a reference from Mr. Manager, I began work at the Pacific Stock Exchange pretty soon after.

I had some time to explore (some of) the city and chose to move to Baker Acres - surprise - a residence hotel in leafy Pacific Heights. They had a sprawling group of several houses within a few blocks and a central dining room (breakfast and dinner were included). 

But work at the stock exchange began much earlier than their breakfast window.  My solution: buy sourdough rolls and sharp cheddar cheese.  Sharp because my room had no fridge and I hoped that “sharp” would help it last longer. Luckily it was SF and didn’t really get too warm. My first experience with sourdough (unsure) and munching bread and cheese at 5:30 AM felt a combination of resilience and austerity, maybe a bit Russian. I’d think I looked forward to moving (to the Marina) as much for having my own place, as for eating something else for breakfast. I’m recalling 3 months of weekdays of bread and cheese for breakfast. 
When my Mom and Dad visited a few years later (by then I’m living in a nice Edwardian apartment on the edge of a sketchy Western Addition neighborhood off Divisadero), Dad was looking forward to trying the SF sourdough he’d heard about (“tastes like it’s gone bad…”). So much for expectations, eh.

That was born of need, managing limitations. But cheese love revved my taste bud search engine. There were flirtations with unconventional flavors in the 80s, but it really bloomed (ha! a cheese joke, the fuzzy mold on a brie/like cheese is called bloom!) after Mark and I, having moved to Oakland, began to explore gastronomy together. Approx. 1995-99 I worked at The Pasta Shop (now called Market Hall Foods), haute deli/grocery - and cheese shop. Not consistently, but periodically, I personed the cheese counter giving me broader access to the flavors I’d already been exposed to. As with many learning experiences, what seemed an intimidating role (do I know enough about this to offer advice to customers?) I found that it’s about what you like, not an expert’s opinion or evaluation. Go at that $4/lb cheddar! But the experience, to taste across the range of cheeses and connect the words that might describe the various flavors, aromas to that experience, gave me credibility, confidence.

So, now, when it’s bread and cheese (and some other things) it’s small amounts of satisfying savoriness whose finish lingers, then inflect into another flavor. Well, more accurately, not another flavor, but another color from its flavor rainbow.
Would you like to try some of this Tronchón del Reyno…it’s delicious…

A wheel of tronchón is an intimidating thing. After all, uncut it hardly appears to be edible. The shape, like some cast industrial element, the impression endorsed by its near metallic-gray exterior.

Are we not brave…the things we put in our mouths…

Michael Rimar
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