Charlemagne Learns to Eat Moldy Cheese During the Middle Ages, when cheese was evolving into a finely crafted food, even an emperor of France had to learn a thing or two about how to appreciate it About 50 years after Charlemagne’s death in 814, an anonymous monk at the monastery of Saint Gall wrote a biography of him that includes this fascinating anecdote (slightly modified from Early Lives of Charlemagne, transl A J Grant, 1922) Charlemagne was traveling, and found himself at a bishop’s residence at dinnertime Now on that day, being the sixth day of the week, he was not willing to eat the flesh of beast or bird The bishop, being by reason of the nature of the place unable to procure fish immediately, ordered some excellent cheese, white with fat, to be placed before him Charles…required nothing else, but taking up his knife and throwing away the mold, which seemed to him abominable, he ate the white of the cheese Then the bishop, who was standing nearby like a servant, drew close and said “Why do you do that, lord Emperor? You are throwing away the best part.” On the persuasion of the bishop, Charles…put a piece of the mold in his mouth, and slowly ate it and swallowed it like butter Then, approving the bishop’s advice, he said “Very true, my good host,” and he added, “Be sure to send me every year to Aix two cartloads of such cheeses.” The word I’ve translated as “mold” is aerugo in the Latin: literally, “the rust of copper.” The cheese isn’t named, and some writers have deduced that it was a Brie, which then had an external coat of graygreen mold, much the same color as weathered copper But I think it was ... do that, lord Emperor? You are throwing away the best part.” On the persuasion of the bishop, Charles…put a piece of the mold in his mouth, and slowly ate it and swallowed it like butter Then, approving the bishop’s advice, he said “Very true, my... taking up his knife and throwing away the mold, which seemed to him abominable, he ate the white of the cheese Then the bishop, who was standing nearby like a servant, drew close and said “Why do you... good host,” and he added, “Be sure to send me every year to Aix two cartloads of such cheeses.” The word I’ve translated as “mold” is aerugo in the Latin: literally, ? ?the rust of copper.” The cheese isn’t named, and some