When we crossed into Switzerland around day nine, reblochon took the spotlight in the town of La Fouly, for instance, in a thick tartiflette, wrapping potatoes and cream in an oozy embrace.
At the time-warped Palms Grill Cafe, thick slabs of gooseberry, peach and sour cream raisin tempt from a glass case, while the Andrews Sisters croon from the stereo.
It's cream that's thickening on the verge of turning into sweet butter or souring into sour cream but it has instead decided to clump together its richest essences into buttery solids in the thick, silky, creamy liquid.