Bavaria, Germany

"It's not about the cheese!" might have been St. Deuberex Montclair's most famous words.  But Montclair doesn't exist. 

A few years ago, Jane and I decided to follow in the footsteps of the world's greatest cheese traveler in search of the world's finest artisanal cheeses and the places where they are made.

Other travel writers seem to be doing it all the time, following the routes of their favorite icon or explorer.  But after agreeing to a lifelong journey, we found that the subject of our travels simply didn't exist.  And so we invented him – an imaginary guide whose wisdom exceeds that of every other travel writer's muse.

Jane and I carry our sleeping son to a restaurant in a small alpine town in the Allgäu region of Bavaria.  This is a favorite of my parents, and a chance for them to show it to Jane's mom in the few days we have left before fifty friends and family converge here.

My family orders all the specialties of this restaurant – deer and local lake fish.  But I haven't the appetite for the hearty Bavarian restaurant faire.  Instead, I look for the plate that most resembles what Bavarians eat at home – a simple plate of bread and cheese.

The right fromage, caseophiles might say, requires a perfect pairing of the appropriate wine.  In Bavaria, and for this particular cheese, however, the perfect wine is a beer.  A pils in a tall glass.

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