Here’s a little song I wrote...

Going to taste it note by note…. you might recognise the original (but it is not quite a Bobby McFerrin). 

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me

A wedge of some very fine cheese

On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Two Crozier Ewes and a wedge of some very fine cheese.

On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Three Crottin, two Crozier Ewes and a wedge of some very fine cheese.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Four Bulging Bries, three Crottin, Two Crozier Ewes….. 

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Five Ripe Epoisses, four Bulging Bries, Three Crottin….

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Six Cheddars a-biting, five Ripe Epoisses, Four Bulging Bries…

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Seven Blues a-weeping, six cheddars a-biting, five Ripe Epoisses…

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Eight lads a-milking, seven blues a-weeping, six cheddars a-biting…..

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Nine Comtés rolling, eight lads a-milking, seven blues a-weeping….

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Ten Mongers running, nine Comtés rolling, eight lads a-milking….

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Eleven Ports & Brandies, ten Mongers running, nine Comtés rolling…

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,

Twelve Mont D’Or stinking, eleven Ports & Brandies, ten mongers running, nine Comtés rolling, eight lads a-milking, seven blues a-weeping, six cheddars biting, five ripe Epoisses, four Bulging Bries, three Crottin, two Crozier Ewes and a Wedge of some very fine Cheese!

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’

Move ‘em on, head ‘em up                               Count ‘em out, ride ‘em in,

   Head ‘em up, move em up                                     Ride ‘em in, count ‘em out,

      Move ‘em on, head ‘em up                                        Count ‘em out, ride ‘em in

         Rawhide!                                                                             Rawhide!   

Ambition, what’s it to you? 

This young thing, riding hell-bent for the glimmer, kicking-on towards that distant glammer and itching, digging deep for some bling…

It is a long way to way to glory but what other way would you go?

I like the Young Buck. I like it, like I like those young boys in class who have confidence, who answer back and make you laugh though you know you’re shouldn’t. Presumption is one way to get to through a door, whether or not you manage to stay there is a matter of charm and bravado or habit – I’d rather the former.

Young Buck is a blue cheese made by Michael Thomson. Young Buck is a pretender (like any pretender to the throne, there, just not on the seat) to Stilton, to Stitchelton, to Great Island Blues. Mike Thomson goes by the company name of Mike’s Fancy (ever a Western edge) He makes this little blue (eight kilos of it) in Newtonards, Co. Down from research, investment and a kickstarter fund, with raw milk from a single herd, piercing the body and developing the blue. Young Buck has bravado.

I saw a lovely, older, delicate china like woman taste some of it and lean back and laugh a little like she had had a private joke: “It is so fruity, it tastes like beer”. She loved it, In that little bite she had had a sneaky pint on her way to meet her daughter; innocent but not. As so is Young Buck, innocent but not, naïve but with reasoning, ambitious but with potential.  It has been described as a fruity Belgian beer, Cadbury’s Turkish delight, Lactic, Acidic, Milky, Blue, and or, Sweet.  Young Buck is exactly like a teenager with so many characteristic waiting to be developed and some to be knocked on the head.  However it is fascinating now, fun now; grown up in self-perception but with space for maturity.  Young Buck has character, it has charm.

One day it will come, no longer presumptuous, to your door and that teenager you enjoyed will be gone and you will be eating on different terms. It should not taste like Stilton or Stitchelton, what would be the point of copying these great Blues? But it should be, it will be, its own - a first great raw milk blue to come from Northern Ireland.

What is in its name? Young Buck, apparently Michael Thomson liked the line in a movie and so christened his cheese- but I think that there was something more at play. I have heard tell of Young Buckaroos in Co. Sligo, young men who think that they know where they are going, believe, move over mate, that they are practically there….. and sure, how else would you get on?

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Get those wheels rollin’

Keep those Blues a growin’

Buck On, Rawhide!