Now scammers are targeting artisan cheese?
We begin today with a PSA from Jamie Oliver. In an Instagram post, the celebrity chef alerted his followers to, “THE GRATE CHEESE ROBBERY!” This “brazen heist” at London’s Neal’s Yard Dairy involved an impostor, a fake order from a French retailer, a getaway lorry and the theft of 22 metric tons of posh cheddar.
“For all the journalists and newspapers out there, come on, get behind this,” said Oliver.
Fine. A story this weird is too gouda to pass up.
Guns? Drugs? Designer bags? I was aware of those black markets. But now there is a chance you might pass a stranger in a dark alley who opens his trench coat and flashes a wheel of cloth-wrapped Pitchfork cheddar: “Feeling peckish? Three hundred grams for 60 bucks.”
Neal’s Yard Dairy distributes upscale cheeses around the world. In addition to the abducted Pitchfork, please also be on the lookout for wheels of Hafod Welsh and Westcombe, especially if they weigh a telltale 10 or 24 kilograms.
Do not be a hero. Anyone diabolical enough to make off with 50,000 pounds of chic cheddar is probably armed and dangerous. Or at the very least, the suspects will reek of Vieux-Boulogne.
Slowly back away and contact the authorities.
According to the Associated Press, detectives at Scotland Yard, working with international partners, are now searching for the culprits. There is a global dragnet. Can truffle hogs sniff out extra sharp cheddar? Can Scotland Yard deputize Chrissy Teigen?
You need a cheese lover on this case. This cheesy crime is the equivalent of the Antwerp diamond heist. Though, I agree with Oliver: “It seems like a really weird thing to nick.”
Indeed, mate. How do you even unload 300,000 Sterling pounds worth of cheddar? In Canadian dollars, that’s roughly $543,000, or 137,000 packs of Kraft Singles. (I can’t believe Oliver now has me doing math, or maths, as they say across the pond.)
The criminal mind is fascinating. These audacious bandits could have knocked over a casino. Instead, their “Ocean’s Eleven” scheme targeted cheese? There are reports the cheddar may be headed to Russia or the Middle East, where oligarchs or crown princes will soon be hosting lavish wine tastings with belly dancers and bespoke crackers.
All theft is a violation. But this one is particularly treacherous because the players in artisan cheese operate with a level of trust uncommon in commercial sectors. No sales exec at Cracker Barrel or Black Diamond is fulfilling a large order without upfront payment. Not happening. I can’t ring up the cheese division at Compliments and abscond with a cube van full of mozzarella before someone realizes my name really isn’t Cheese Wagstaff.
But as Patrick Holden, owner of the Hafod farm, told the Guardian: “It might sound naive to fall victim to a scam, but the truth is that the artisan cheese world is a place where trust is deeply embedded in all transactions. The breach of trust by this fraudulent customer is a violation of the atmosphere of good faith and respect …
“It’s a world where one’s word is one’s bond.”
It’s also a world that’s dangerously delicious. These criminals didn’t steal haggis or bangers and mash. They concluded there is a lucrative black market for cheese. Makes sense.
Excluding the lactose intolerant, do you know anyone who does not love cheese?
Burgers, pizza, pasta, tacos, scrambled eggs, French onion soup, we put cheese on everything. Do you know the No. 1 question asked by restaurant servers is, “Do you want cheese on that?” It doesn’t matter what you ordered. The Parmesan bowl is at the ready.
Cheese on my creamy garlic chicken? Sure. I’ll tell you when.
Have you ever had a religious experience after trying a cheese for the first time? Many moons ago, I had drinks with a model — it’s a long story — and tried a blue cheese that electrified my senses. It was called Le Ciel de Charlevoix. If any cheesemongers out there know where I can buy some, please email. I still dream about Le Ciel. I miss it dearly.
In his Instagram reel, Oliver seemed baffled about what the crooks might do with their pilfered loot. Cut it into chunks? Remove the cloth and monetize it for the fast food industry? Turn the cylinders into projectiles during a protest over brie shrinkflation?
I had no idea cheese can cost as much as cocaine. In researching this column — Jamie Oliver owes me private cooking lessons — I learned a kilo of Pule cheese, made from Balkan donkey milk, can cost $1,300.
I will never complain again about Babybel sticker shock.
I hope Scotland Yard has some promising leads. And I hope nobody breaks into my house to steal my bag of grated Tex-Mex.
