Mammoth Cheese
(March 29, 2005)
I entered this story into the Ingersoll Times Story Contest

I love cheese. If cheese were a fabric, I would dress cheesy all day. Cheddar, old, mozzarella, swiss – it matters not. If I couldn’t dress in cheese, I would go back to munching it. Munching it with crackers, burgers, applesauce, tea, milk – anything tastes good with cheese. No, not good – stupendously good. You could say I am a cheesemonger.

So when Grandma told me her Aunt Eliza had "kin" involved in the creation of the biggest block of cheese in the world, I knew I was going to Ingersoll – to learn the story of the Mammoth Cheese of 1866. However Grandma warned me about Eliza.

"She’s a little different. Always about the cheese with her."

I phoned Aunt Eliza and after fifty-five minutes of cheese gabbing, she agreed to meet me at the Ingersoll train station on Saturday. To her disappointment, I would return to hometown Toronto on the last train in the evening. I could not risk spending the night if she was as ‘different’ as Grandma had told me.

The big day arrived and there to greet me on the platform, waving and jumping was Aunt Eliza. She bear-hugged me.

"Suzy, it’s so nice to see you again. You’ve grown so much."

"Aunt Eliza, I was a baby when you saw me last."

"Nevertheless, I knew it was you as soon as you stepped off the train."

I looked at my Aunt. She was wearing an orange wool sweater with a giant tripod block of yellow cheese sewn in the centre. I commented on its appeal.

"I knew you would like it. That’s why I made one for you. Here."

She tossed me a Foodland bag with the sweater neatly folded inside. I immediately wore it.

"Now let’s start your tour. First, don’t call me Aunt Eliza – call me Auntie. It has a better ring to it."

She spoke very quickly and very excitedly.

"Okay with that settled, let me explain 1866 Ingersoll to you. Cheese was a popular industry in the area. Many farmers, including my great Aunt Eliza made commercial cheese to meet the farm’s mortgage payments. In ’66, to create international publicity for the local cheese factories, the community (including great Aunt Eliza) decided to make the biggest block of cheese ever – the Mammoth Cheese. The Ingersoll Cheese Company was created specifically for this purpose. See the maroon building across the tracks? That was the resting-place of the Ingersoll Cheese Company. Now, the Mammoth Cheese was not made there. No indeed. It was made over at the Harris Cheese Factory. Let’s go – to Jack!"

"Jack?"

"Jack. My car’s name is Jack, after Monterey Jack."

He hopped into Jack – a big yellow seventies car. Before we could continue the tour, Aunt Eliza (I mean Auntie) needed her coffee. As we left the parking lot, we immediately hit a traffic jam. Being from Toronto I was accustomed to this however I found it unexpected for Ingersoll. I stuck my head out the window to determine the cause.

"Oh don’t worry, it’s just the Tim Hortons traffic. They all want their drive-thru coffee. We’ll just go inside."

Eventually we a found a parking spot big enough that Jack could be parked. We walked into Tim Hortons. It was bursting at the seams.

"I thought you said it was quicker."

"Oh it is."

Silly me, I had envisioned ‘quicker’ meaning no line-up.

"Maybe we should go to Starbucks."

"Suzy, the closest Starbucks is in London. Besides nothing beats Timmy’s."

As we stood in line chatting, catching up since my newborn days, the man standing ahead of us fell to the floor.

"Cheese Louise!" Auntie yelled as she bent down beside the unconscious man.

"We need 100 CCs of caffeine. Express-o!"

The manager jumped the counter, coffee in hand, down the customer line to our crisis. Auntie lifted the man’s head and gently poured the precious java into his mouth. The man awoke.

"Oh I needed that. Needed my Tims fix. Thank you."

The manager turned to Auntie.

"We miss you today."

"Family before work, you know."

"Yeah I know but it’s just that there’s a hockey tournament on this weekend."

"Cheese Louise! No wonder it is so busy in here." She elaborated.

"You see Suzy, the arena is just a block from here. On a normal winter Saturday, it’s hectic as all the hockey parents run over for a coffee during their kids’ practices. Games are worse because both parents attend. A tournament! Why everybody from grandma to cousins to siblings come to hockey tournaments – and they all need their Tims."

"You work here Auntie?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"How old are you?"

"87."

"Why?"

"That’s an interesting story. People think a day is the time it takes the earth to rotate but that’s not true. It’s actually based on how long it takes to make cheese. Those druids… great cheese makers."

"No, No. I mean why are you still working?"

"Oh, I’m saving up for this."

She pulled up her sweater to reveal a yellow T-shirt. It has a picture of the Ingersoll Mammoth with the words "Eliza’s Cheese Factory" above it and "Ingersoll, Ontario" beneath it.

"You’re starting a cheese factory? At your age? Where? Why?"

"Easy there. The answers are Yes, Yes, the maroon building I showed you and because it is a dream of mine."

"How close are you?"

"Far. The banks don’t seem to want to lend $100 000 to a senior citizen. They think I’ll die before I can make a go of the factory. Don’t worry, I’ll make it happen."

Looking into her soft green eyes, I could see a sense of determination, a sense of pride – someone on a quest. I knew she was telling the truth. She would make Eliza’s Cheese Factory a reality.

Finally it was our turn. We placed our order as a car horn blew outside.

"Car alarm?" I asked.

"No, driver passed out in the drive-thru. Lack of caffeine. Hal!"

The manager replied "Don’t worry, I’m on it."

After receiving our order, Auntie refused to drive with her coffee.

"After that woman got burned at McDonalds, I never drink and drive with coffee. Same with cheese. I never eat and drive with cheese. Too dangerous."

Finally we were back on the road.

"Now the mammoth cheese was paraded down this street to the station complete with pipeband. They even had people carrying hammers walking beside the wagon wheels, guaranteeing the 7300-pound cheese did not pop the wheels off its axles. You know, it took three teams of horses to pull."

We arrived at the Elm Hurst Inn, a very fancy Victorian building. It was hard to believe that that property could have ever been a factory.

"Are you sure, it was here?"

"Here’s the plaque."

It was true, as provincial plaques do not lie.

For supper, we ate lasagne at the Elm Hurst. When the waiter asked us if we wanted Parmesan cheese we both simultaneously said, "Cheese please!"

"How was your meal?" Auntie asked.

"Brie-licious."

"Gouda one." She replied.

After dinner, we drove the 200 metres to the Ingersoll Cheese Factory Museum. Auntie hit her head on the door trying to walk in.

"What’s this? The museum is locked? It’s suppose to be open to 6 PM on Saturdays."

I pointed to a note on the door.

"Eliza. Katie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy this morning. I’m a grandma. I know Suzy was coming but I had to see my grandson. Sorry, Hazel."

"Well, I can’t fault Hazel I guess but Suzy you won’t be able to see the museum with your train leaving tonight."

I thought about my day with Auntie. The history lesson, the cheese sweater and the cheesy cheese jokes. I was having a blast. She wasn’t "a little different" at all rather she was just like me – and I rock. I wish I had known her earlier.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about your offer Auntie. I want to catch tomorrow’s train."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Cheese Louise! A slumber party. We need to stop at Foodland for some snacks. Cheese Strings okay?"

"You read my mind Auntie."