Le Grand Fromage; The Big Cheese

I timed it; 11 minutes. Eleven minutes from my desk to Grand Central’s Main Concourse and back.

Was I going for something at the Cucina Café? No. Even though after 3pm all the fresh baked cookies are 50 cents. How about up the stairs to Métrazur for something pancetta crusted and fancy? No. Onward then past the South Concourse, Tracks 100-113 and the Eastern-European violinist tucked away playing behind a marble pillar.

Oh, maybe I’ll stop at Papyrus for some watermarked deckle edged stationery and write a love letter... Oh, wait, maybe I’ll grab a cup of Celebes Kalossi from Oren’s Daily Roast. Na, there’s no time.

Down the escalator, it gets hot quick, need to refill my MetroCard. Rode down with a guy who smelled like Kurtis Blow.

Back upstairs now, past the old man in the brand new J.Crew madras blazer and the $5 red tie folded in his breast pocket, past the Indian man with the glasses, eating a six-hour old honey glazed pecan emblazoned danish bigger than his goddamn head.

Finally, there it was in Vanderbilt Hall. Sitting right in front of me.

I was face to face with it.

I stopped dead in my tracks, radiating in it’s creamy yellow glory, beholding it's behemoth beauty... the worlds largest… a 1,323 lb. wheel of Dutch cheese.

However, without the world’s largest bagel and the world’s largest jar of mayonnaise, it was pretty fucking boring. So I went back to my office.