What do Bush, Obama and a fungus have in common?
A young shepherd from Roquefort took this idea and expanded it. Or rather, given that his version happened hundreds of years ago, invented it.
When I visited Roquefort, I found a portrait of chills and damp: high, exposed, wet and unwelcoming. Roquefort’s legend whispers that the shepherd boy was sheltering in one of the local, natural caves, ready to tuck into his curds and rye bread, when a beautiful woman caught his eye. The amorous Frenchman chased after her, abandoning his already suspect-sounding lunch.
We never learn the details of the chase – was he successful? Was his love requited? Was it even love?
All we know is that something took a hell of a long time. Our shepherd returned to discover that his lunch had become covered in a thick layer of blue-green fungus. Revolted but famished he ate – and discovered the creamy-crumbly cheese that centuries later has George Dubya and Obama entangled within the Roquefort story.
