Low-fat goat cheese is a brick of sadness

Eat the goat cheese, the good kind, it's perfect

Earlier this week, a girlfriend texted me: "Hey, so I saw reduced-fat goat cheese at the grocery store tonight. Is that even a thing?"

Although I still do professional political analysis, being known as the friend to text with goat cheese questions is a space I love to occupy in people's brains.

A perfect goat cheese is equal parts art and science - and is most certainly not "reduced-fat." 

I'm not a "there oughta be a law" kind of person, quite the opposite. Still, if I were Queen for a Day, I would outlaw low-fat goat cheese and require new immigrants to Colorado from places like California and Texas to take a snow-driving class before obtaining a license here.

Alas, I am not Queen for a Day, so reduced-fat goat cheese exists, and the freeway is littered with idiots as soon as the first flake flitters to the ground.

Therefore, I must do the thing I always do when faced with a policy I feel passionate about but don't have the power to dictate - try to convince others I am correct. So, I appeal to you: buy the goat cheese and make it the full-fat version.

Good goat cheese is a celebration onto itself. A perfect combination of satisfyingly tangy, lightly salty, and subtly sweet combine into a cloudy dollop of magic that will melt in your mouth. The best goat cheeses have just a hint of that goaty and musky "je ne sais quoi," but it doesn't overpower the cheese.