How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? Maybe even four?

  Time blended together into a blur of cheese and ginger. Colby’s every waking hour has been consumed by cheese. Not even sleep spared him. Within slumberland, he continued to work on his cheese, preparing possible fixes for the previous day's shortcomings.

  Making the best cheese possible wasn’t exactly the fastest process in the world, but even he didn’t think it’d take this long.

  Finally out of his cheese-induced trance, Colby rushed out of his room and down the stairs, eager to show off his masterpiece.

  It was mid-afternoon, and his family was in the kitchen getting ready for lunch. But first, he’d give a little appetizer that’d trump the main course—hopefully.

  Brie sat at the dining table with Thornelius by her side. She reached down, petting the bushy Thornwolf on his head. He wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue, happily enjoying the attention that Brie gave him.

  Thornelius’s nose twitched before he snapped his head towards the open door. Letting out a sharp bark, Thornelius slipped out of Brie’s pets and rushed over, leaping at him.

  Colby opened his arms and caught the Thornwolf, bringing him close to his chest. As a reward for catching him, Thornelius proceeded to coat his face in that sticky-sweet slobber.

  “Broby!” Brie yelled and threw her arms into the air.

  Her chair screeched against the floor as she stumbled out of it, rushing over to him and wrapping his legs in a tight hug.

  “Nice to see you finally out of your room,” his father said, turning around from the stove.

  “I don’t blame him,” his mother said. “When epiphany rains, it pours.”

  “Rain, rain, go away. Never come back so that Broby can play!”

  “Sorry, Brie,” Colby said, ruffling her hair. “I was just so caught up in my cheese.”

  “We know. So are you ready to show us what you’ve been working on?” his father asked.

  “Yup!”

  After placing Thornelius back on the floor and pulling Brie away from her death hug, Colby walked over to the cabinet above the sink. While his parents sat themselves down at the dining table, Colby retrieved plates, glasses of water, and sets of cutlery, placing them in front of his family members.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” his mother said, rubbing her hands together.

  “Now, hon, be gentle. We’re here to give constructive criticism, not destructive criticism.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Come, my precious little son. Show mama the cheese you’ve been cooking up.”

  Colby nodded.

  Materializing in his hand was the candied ginger chèvre he had spent so much time perfecting. It was a little white log, speckled with tiny yellow dots. He placed it on one of the plates and used a knife to slice it into three equal pieces. After setting a piece in front of each of his family members, he took a step back.

  Colby stared, holding his breath.

  He glanced over at Brie, who shot him a big, beaming smile, revealing the tooth that had started to protrude out of her flappy, pink gums. He brought a finger to his lip, telling her to keep quiet. She nodded.

  His father rotated the plate, inspecting the chèvre from every angle. After three full rotations, he used the fork and knife to tilt the cheese on its side, inspecting the bottom.

  His mother grabbed the rim of the plate and shook it side to side, watching the chèvre barely even jiggle. She lifted it up and brought it to her nose, taking in a big, deep breath, before setting the plate back down.

  Brie emulated them. She spun the plate just like their father before jiggling it and taking a nice big whiff like their mother.

  His parents glanced at each other and nodded. They dug into the chèvre, spreading it apart to look at the interior. His father used the cutlery available while his mother used her hands, feeling the texture of his chèvre within her highly finetuned fingers.

  Meanwhile, Brie held a fork in one hand and nothing in the other, splitting the cheese like their parents and looking deep inside.

  They gave each other another glance and a nod before sampling a piece. His father used a fork, his mother, her hands. Brie had a fork in one hand and nothing in the other. She stabbed the cheese and picked up the other with her fingers before stuffing both pieces into her mouth.

  She munched on it, her smile growing wider with every bite.

  That was a good sign.

  Then, again, this was Brie. She liked everything he made, even those failed mozzarella balls made with Skate Goat milk.

  His parents were expressionless, taking their time to savor the flavors before they swallowed. Another glance and nod before they reached for the water, drinking it to cleanse their palette.

  They swapped the plates between each other—even Brie—before taking another bite. His little sister continued to smile, nodding at him as she chewed, letting him see the white mush speckled with sweet yellow candied ginger in her mouth. His parents were still expressionless. Another round of water and switching, and they were done.

  Moment of truth.

  “Brie?” Colby asked, looking at his sister.

  “It was super yummy! I loved it.”

  “Thanks, Brie.”

  “Mom? Dad? ”

  “Chèvre with ginger,” his mother said. “Candied ginger. Candied Butterfly Ginger, but candied in a non-traditional way. Am I right?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Colby nodded.

  “An interesting pairing. I’m assuming you got this idea from that day. The one where Ms. M offered you a sweet to help with the nausea. Presumably, the remnants of the mozzarella that Brie made got mixed in with it, inspiring this combination.”

  He nodded again.

  “A classic ‘eureka’ moment. That’s how most of my flavored cheese pairings came to fruition, too. But you can’t just ram a bunch of different ingredients into cheese and call it a day. So, son. Do you want to know how you did?”

  Another nod.

  Before she could get another word in, his father said, “Remember, dear. Constructive.”

  “I’m always constructive.”

  “Sure, hon.”

  “In terms of fresh cheese, chèvre was definitely the better choice for this pairing. Only an amateur would latch onto mozzarella.”

  “Would you like to explain why, hon?”

  “I was just getting to that, dear. And Brie.”

  “Yes, mommy?”

  “Pay attention, okay.”

  “Okay, mommy!”

  “Mozzarella and candied ginger. What’s the similarity?”

  “They’re both sweet.”

  “Exactly. An amateur would simply chase that sweetness, using the candied ginger to enhance the mozzarella’s mild sweetness. But if that’s the only angle you’ve got going for you, then you’re going to hit a ceiling so low, it might as well be a floor.”

  “And?” his father said, waving his hands around while looking at her.

  “And what? There’s nothing else to talk about, mozzarella and candied ginger, they’re barely compatible. If you want to chase that sweet high, you’re better off trying to use something like mascarpone or ricotta.”

  “While insightful, hon, maybe you’d like to explain what Colby did right.”

  “I was just getting there.”

  “Sure, hon.”

  “The reason chèvre works so well with candied ginger is because they complement each other amazingly. The tanginess of the chèvre brightens the sweetness of the candied ginger, while the sweetness cuts through the sourness of the chèvre. It’s even more evident when Skate Goat and Butterfly Ginger are used. The recklessness of a Skate Goat mixed together with the kind-hearted nature of Butterfly Gingers, it’s like the class bad boy and good girl trope, but in cheese form. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Colby. This is the best cheese you’ve made thus far.”

  “Really? Yes!” Colby yelled.

  “Yay! Broby!” Bried cheered.

  “But…” his mother trailed off.

  “But what, Mom? Don’t do this to me. Is it good enough to be sold?”

  “Almost. A couple of tweaks and it’ll be a perfect flavored cheese to add to our shop’s collection.”

  “Really?” Colby asked.

  “Yes, dear. Really.”

  “Yes!” Colby yelled.

  “Yay! Broby!” Brie hopped off her chair and dashed over to him, giving him a big hug. Thornelius bolted to him as well, going up on his hind legs and giving him congratulatory licks.

  “Good job, son,” his father said. “Pepper, would you like me to explain how he can improve the cheese, or do you want to continue?”

  “I’ve done enough talking. It’s time for you to pick up the slack.”

  “Sure thing. Colby, pay attention.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “To incorporate the candied ginger better, they should be made even smaller and more uniform—I could feel a few chunks that were slightly bigger than the others. Your mixing technique is a bit off; some areas had a bit more candied ginger than the others, disrupting the overall balance of the cheese. As for the chèvre itself, it should be chilled approximately 8 minutes longer and let to rest about ten to twenty minutes—depending on the conditions in your Core—before the incorporation. Other than that and the obvious, use the high-quality ingredients instead of the ones you got yourself, it’s good to go.”

  “Yes! How does it feel, Mom? Jealous, I came up with a combination you hadn’t thought up yet?”

  “Diplomatically, there are an infinite number of flavored cheese combinations in the world. It’s only natural you stumbled upon one before me. Truthfully, I am. If it weren’t for this stupid war, I’d be mixing up a storm.”

  “You can always use some of my ingredients.”

  “Sorry, Colby. At my level, those types of ingredients do more harm than good for me.”

  “Nice humble bragging.”

  “Welcome.”

  Throughout the rest of the week, Colby continued to make tweaks as his father suggested. The hardest part was making sure that the candied ginger was evenly spread throughout the chèvre. His father was able to detect when even one area had even minutely more than the other. But eventually he got it right and was bringing his latest creation down to the kitchen once more for a final-final-final inspection.

  His parents and Brie sat down at the dining table, while Thornelius sat next to him, tail wagging.

  Just as Colby was about to manifest his latest rendition of the flavored cheese, the door to the shop swung open.

  “I got it,” his father said, standing up from the dining table and walking to the cheeseshop.

  Almost immediately, he dashed back with a huge smile on his face.

  “Colby. How confident are you in your cheese?”

  “Pretty confident. Why?”

  “Ms. M is here for her daily chèvre. And since she was the inspiration for this combination, I thought it would be fitting that she be the first customer to try it.”

  “I’m on it!” Colby yelled.

  The chèvre manifested on the plate, and he rushed out to the cheeseshop.

  “Oh, hi, little Colby. I’m here for my usual,” Ms. M said.

  “I know, but I was hoping you’d like to try something a bit different,” Colby said, holding up the plate to her.

  “Depends, little Colby. What is it? And how much?”

  “It’s a chèvre with a little kick. And it’s a sample. Come on, try it, Ms. M.”

  “And your parents are aware of this, little Colby?”

  “Of course,” his father said, walking into the shop along with the rest of the Tyro family.

  “He’s got our seal of approval,” his mother said.

  “And mine!” Brie yelled.

  Thornelius barked as well.

  “Well, if you insist.”

  Ms. M tore a small piece of the white log with small yellow bits poking out of it and put it in her mouth. Colby watched in anticipation as she chewed, trying to decipher how Ms. M liked the cheese—a feat made many times more difficult thanks to the wrinkles upon wrinkles on her face.

  Finally, she swallowed.

  And he still couldn’t tell whether she enjoyed it or not.

  “Why? Is that my candied ginger mixed with chèvre?” Ms. M asked.

  “Close,” Colby said. “It’s my version of the candied ginger you gave me that day. How is it?”

  “It’s delicious! I’m adding this to my daily order.”

  “One chèvre and one chèvre with candied ginger coming right up.”

  The two cheeses appeared in his hand, and Colby set them on the counter. Individually, wrapped them in transparent film, sealing it with odor reducing sticker before handing it to Ms. M.

  “The chèvre with candied ginger is on the house,” Colby said. “My thanks to you for that day. And for the stuff at the guild. And for being the inspiration for this cheese.”

  “Thank you, little Colby. I’ll be sure to enjoy it.”

  Once Ms. M left the shop, Colby turned to his parents. He rushed forward, hugging them. Brie joined in as well. And so did Thornelius.

  “My very first original recipe sold,” he said.

  “Good job, Colby,” his father said.

  “I’m proud of you,” his mother said.

  “Yay, Broby!”

  That night, they celebrated with tacos with shells made with cheddar cheese. It was a huge accomplishment: creating a combination that his mother hadn’t come up with yet, and it being good enough to be sold.

  Another step closer to making the ultimate cheese, but there was still a chasm he had to overcome.

  Fresh cheeses were easy. At least in comparison.

  Now, it was finally time to tackle aged cheese.