By Christopher Gabriel, Blog Harbor

For the past year, I’ve been following the progress of a young wheel of cheese named Wedginald.  Yes, that’s right, I said cheese.  Not Wedginald, my neighbor, or Wedginald, a little friend of my older daughter.  Nope, it’s Wedginald, a wheel of cheese.  Cheddar, to be exact. 

Some might argue I need a life . . . I’ll write on that in the coming weeks. 

Back at my former station, 100.3 KTLK in Minneapolis, I used to do a feature on Andrew Zimmern’s program Chowhounds called “Food News”.  It was on the February 17, 2007 installment of Food News that I first brought the story of Wedginald to our Twin Cities listening audience.  And after digging into Wedginald — can we just go ahead and shorten it to Wedgy?  People shorten my name all the time, why can’t Wedginald be Wedgy?  I digress.  After looking into Wedgy a little more deeply, I not only became a fan, I became obsessed.  A little background:

Wedginald – forget it, I’m passing on Wedgy, it’s just too demeaning to cheddar – was the creation of the good folks at the West Country Farmhouse Cheesemakers in Somerset, England.  Their website describes them as “. . . a small group of farmers.  We are all based in the South West of England and share a passion for the traditional art of cheesemaking.  As a group we’re united in protecting our farming heritage and the time-honoured skills essential to the production of premium farmhouse cheese.  Because this cheese is made on our farms we can take the time and care necessary to create the very highest quality product.”  Simple, old school cheesemakers.  Even their website is the epitome of quiet elegance.  And yet, something must have been missing in the lives of these dedicated cheesemakers.  Enter . . . Cheddarvision.

Apparently, one of the cheesemakers, or perhaps the entire group of them, got together and decided they needed to shake things up in Somerset; maybe live on the edge of the cheese world and push the cheese envelope to it’s very limit.  And so it was, on New Year’s Day, 2007 their idea was unveiled to the world:  A webcam was placed several feet from a 55 pound wheel of cheddar cheese.  24 hours a day, seven days a week for the entire year, a live feed would show anyone who tuned in how the cheese would . . . . . . mature.  In other words, we got to watch a little cheese grow into a big cheese before our very eyes.

I went to Cheddarvision for the first time several months into Wedginald’s young life.  What I saw is what you’re looking at: A wheel of cheese just . . . . . sitting . . . . . there.   Now here’s the troubling part:  Before I even realized it, I was staring at the cheese for nearly 20 minutes.  It was as if I expected something to happen.  I finally clicked off the cheese, coming to grips with the utter absurdity at what I had just done.  But then, inexplicably, I went back to the site.  And I continued to go back, again and again and again, practically daily.  It became an addiction.  Every morning there was breakfast, a cup of coffee, reading the paper and then checking in with my British pal, Wedginald.  And if that wasn’t enough, one morning several weeks later brought me to the pinnacle.  It was the singular moment of unrivaled cheese-viewing joy: I got to see a worker, dressed in her sparkling cheese whites, grab Wedginald and give him a slight turn.  And let me be clear: More than a slight turn might have sent me over the edge.  That tiny turn could have made it onto ESPN’s Ultimate Highlight.  The gentle, yet masterful, way she grasped that 55 pound circle of joy was tantamount to watching the Patriots’ Tom Brady float a perfectly thrown pass into the waiting hands of Randy Moss for a touchdown.  And I’ll admit it — I’m a little misty right now.

At the time of my first visit, about 25,000 people had visited the site.  I thought the number was ridiculously high.  I mean, we’re talking cheese . . . sitting there . . . doing nothing.  But what I came to discover was that Wedginald was slowly becoming a phenomenon.  Articles began appearing in most every major newspaper and magazine you could imagine from London to Los Angeles.  Radio stations were covering it, and even news magazine programs on television were detailing the progress of Wedginald. 

By the end of one year, more than 1.7 million people had visited the Cheddarvision site.  Let me say that again: Over the course of 365 days, more than 1.7 million people tuned into Cheddarvision to watch a 55 pound wheel of cheese named Wedginald become a man.

It’s now 2008 and Wedginald’s days in Somerset are over.  But the story continues.

It seems Wedginald has left Somerset and taken up residence with his new owner at Mud House Winery in Marlborough, New Zealand.  Even more, it’s now become a worldwide online game of intrigue entitled “Where is Wedginald?”

On the website, Where is Wedginald?, you have the whole Wedginald story retold, ”cryptic clues” are offered, you’re given the rules of the contest and are told how to enter “The Ultimate Online Treasure Hunt.” 

A treasure hunt starring . . . a block of cheese.

I was good with the whole Cheddarvision thing:  What began as little more than a cute idea from some quiet, unassuming farmers, a look into the world of making cheese, turned into a worldwide phenomenon.  And really, it was kind of cool.  But now, let’s be honest here, the whole damn thing is out of control.  An unsightly, grumpy, blockhead of cheese is the star of his own Internet version of “Where in the World is Matt Lauer?”  What’s next, Wedginald Illustrated?  Does ABC have Desperate Wedginald in development?  Is Fox News getting ready to premiere Hannity, Colmes and Wedginald before Super Tuesday?

If it seems like I’m jealous of Wedginald’s success and fame, I’m not.  Please, don’t be ridiculous and don’t insult my intelligence.  Don’t you think it would be a little pathetic for someone to be borderline bitter over the success of an ugly, sweaty, boring, overweight block of cheese?  Remember, we’re talking CHEESE for Heaven’s sake!  I mean, it probably has no flavor to speak of and I can think of several dozen cheeses that are better-looking and more articulate than Wedginald.

What really gets me is hearing he has a waterfront loft in Auckland.  Little bastard.  If I could just confirm it’s true and nail down the address, maybe I’ll win something in the contest . . . for my wife.  Don’t think for a minute I entered this stupid contest for me . . . it’s all for my wife.  Really.

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