With regard to history and diversity, cheese is an incomparable food. From the street smart Cheddar to the most beguiling Fiscalini, cheese casts its venerable spell throughout the world. France, alone, makes some 400 different cheeses. As you read this, there are thousands of modest, bucolic artists, around the world, busily cutting curd, pressing moulds, milking sheep and goats and cows, surveying herds and pastures, carrying in their heads the secrets and formulas of their unique creations.

It’s hard to imagine that when I was in first grade, cheese was Velveeta. And though a formidable handful of my friends would disagree, I’m not a snob. I won't bash processed cheese. It's a rare and dubious treat, but I have a profound, nostalgic fondness for a toasted cheese sandwich made with white bread and Velveeta. Even though my life’s greatest, most Quixotic desire is to intimately know and understand all the glorious heights of the cheese world, being a child of the Midwest, I'll always have a small place in my heart for that unsophisticated “cheese food”.

However, I'm infinitely thankful to the gods of dairy that the sirens of more sophisticated cheeses have properly seduced me. Few pleasures in life offer me the galloping ecstasy of a complex, five year old Gouda or the firm, sweet caress of Beaufort. Okay, I know how I sound, but please understand; the romance is impossible to resist. If you don’t already empathize with my passion, I hope you take the plunge, soon. An afternoon spent giddy with Chianti and a stomach full of Taleggio is better than young love.

As with any new relationship, there might be some fear of the unknown. Would a red wine harmonize with Cabrales? Do pears go with Stilton? Should I slice some sausage? The simple answer is ' yes, do it all'. Play and enjoy. I've certainly not experienced my last misstep with a cheese pairing, but I've loved every little experiment. The cheese course should be a joyful exploration.

Complete random experimentation can be discouraging; so, when preparing a wine and cheese flight, there are a few rules I try to follow:

1.		The bigger the cheese, the bigger the wine. I tend to prefer heady mountain cheeses, so I look for a heady wine—preferably from the same region as the cheese. In a perfect world, neither wine nor cheese would outsize the other.
2.		On a cheese board, I mix it up. I always include a range from soft to hard and a range from intense to mild. It’s also nice to mix animal sources and regions. Normally, I present 3-5 cheeses on a platter.
3.		Pecans, hazelnuts and walnuts work with almost every cheese. It would be difficult to find a cheese that doesn’t get along well with this trio. Almonds are also, occasionally, a good choice.
4.		Taste the cheese before purchasing. When I really want to try a cheese that's individually wrapped, I just throw caution to the wind and buy it. But if I can, I taste it first. Artisanal cheeses can be expensive.
5.		I ask for help when I'm in uncharted waters. Knowledgeable cheese mongers are becoming more common but are still a rare treasure found mostly in larger cities. If I can’t find reliable help behind the counter, Steven Jenkins’s Cheese Primer is my bible. Jenkins saved me from the assault of a viciously overripe cheese, just last month. I bought a small basket of Pont-l’Eveque and was knocked senseless by the smell. My culinary curiosity had met its match. I desperately wanted to try this but couldn’t overcome the wild stench. I was as conflicted as a gay Republican. I put off the tasting and triple bagged the reeking wooden box so it wouldn’t corrode the seal on the refrigerator door. I consulted the Cheese Primer and discovered that the cheese had long passed its prime. I donated the putrid Pont-l’Eveque to a high school science lab and went searching for the next unexplored gem.

Many of the more obscure cheeses are readily available by mail order ; however, blind ordering is not for the faint of heart. You obviously can’t sample through the mail. If you’re unsure, start small. Many large grocers carry the ingredients for a decent cheese board. Stilton, farmhouse Cheddar, and plain soft goat cheese are common in deli sections of better supermarkets. Serve those three cheeses with slices of pear, honey, and toasted pecans, and you have a respectable presentation. Excellent, artisanal cheeses are not often found in the large chain groceries. The finest cheeses will not be pre-cut, shrink wrapped, or grated. I've nothing against the common cheeses. I use and enjoy them all. But they can’t hold a candle to the limitless variety of quirky, milky triumphs handcrafted by dairy masters. The Cheese Plate, by Max McCalman and David Gibbons, is a trustworthy beacon in the overwhelming sea of choices.

And don’t be intimidated when choosing wine. There are a number of cheese-friendly varieties that will typically hit the target and are quite forgiving of a less than flawless match. If you have an excellent cheese, it will make a mediocre wine sing. Gewurztraminer, Pinot Gris, and Riesling are lenient white wines. Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, and Zinfandel are excellent red choices. Beware of dry red wines with creamy soft cheeses. Although I don’t recommend rigidly complying with any system, GourmetSleuth.com has an easy to use wine and cheese guide. Such guides can be nice confidence boosters and a comforting safety net, but you miss the thrilling satisfaction of discovering something on your own. Every so often, it’s best to color outside of the lines.

A couple of years ago, my niece threw away the whole coloring book and crafted my ultimate dessert. She dipped shards of Mimolette in dark chocolate and pistachios then presented it with unspeakably sweet, fresh pineapple and pineapple sorbet. I'm not often stunned to speechlessness; but, on that night, my voice was nearly lost forever.

A less innovative discovery of mine was the combination of goat cheese with purple basil jelly, available at DavesGourmet.com. With toasted pecans on water crackers, the song of this velvety, sweet duo will drown out the most heart-rending sorrow. If I were on death row, awaiting imminent execution, my heart would, of course, go out to my family and friends. I'd focus on the love I'd experienced in life. And my last request, my final thoughts, would surely be of purple basil jelly and goat cheese.

I stubbornly believe otherwise, but this is probably true: There's nothing new under the sun. That includes goat cheese and purple basil jelly. I don’t care. Whatever I haven't experienced is new to me. I do my research and attentively adhere to expert guidance; nevertheless, sleuthing out a successful cheese alliance on my own is a small but enormously gratifying event. Some may argue the virtue of such epicurean obsession. All the same, I know my life is made richer by the frivolous search for the next creamy delight.