I was ... [reading] Walpole, and I suddenly came over all peckish ... I thought to myself, 'a little fermented curd will do the trick'. So I curtailed my Walpoling activities, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles.

John Cleese, Monty Python's Flying Circus

Calle Pedro Moreno runs through the centro historico of Lagos de Moreno, both street and town named for an insurgent general who fought the Spanish for Mexican Independence. We were strolling in the neighborhood nearby when Patty pointed out a nondescript building. She told me that if I wanted really good cheese, this was the place to go.

Lacteos Thomsen

The building gave no clue that it housed a business. No signs, no displays, no open door. It didn't look any too promising.

Mexico isn't known for its artesanal cheeses anyway. Arguably, Manchego is the most common variety available, and much of it is made in huge factories. If they ask you, "You want cheese on that?", you're probably going to get Manchego, a bland semi-soft cheese that's definitely better than that "cheese food product" called American, but not by much.

Imports of European varieties are on the increase, as are knockoffs. You can find passable Brie, Roquefort (well, blue at least), Gouda, Feta (not Greek), Parmesan, Mozzarella, and a couple of others.

But like John Cleese's character, Mr. Mousebender, you'll be frustrated if you're looking for: Red Leicester, Tilsit, Caerphilly, Bel Paese, Red Windsor, Stilton, Emmental, Gruyère, Norwegian Jarlsberg, Liptauer, Lancashire, White Stilton, Danish Blue, Double Gloucester, Cheshire, Dorset Blue Vinney, Pont l'Evêque, Port Salut, Savoyard, Saint-Paulin, Carré de l'Est, Bresse-Bleu, Boursin, Camembert, Edam, Caithness, Smoked Austrian, Sage Derby, Wensleydale, Gorgonzola, Pipo Crème, Danish Fynbo, Czech sheep's milk, Cheddar, Ilchester, or Limburger.

So it was without high expectations that I walked with Patty up to the door and knocked. After a wait it opened, and a young woman wearing a snood admitted us to... a garage. We sidled around a Nissan parked there and sighted a table supporting a commercial scale.

The placed seemed "uncontaminated by cheese," though. I felt like I was in a British television comedy bit.

The woman asked us what we wanted.

Picture this. I'm leaning against an automobile fender. A couple of bicycles are parked against a wall. There's a worn tire, a couple of corrugated cardboard boxes containing household items. Someone is asking what I want. And I'm going to have to answer, "Well, I'd like some cheese..."

Thomsen's retail outlet, in its entirety

Our clerk seemed a little surprised at our request. "You want cheese?" Recovering quickly, she scuttled through a doorway and returned with samples. Thomsen, a fixture in Lagos for generations, makes four types of cheeses. Two are called by European names: Tilsit and Gouda. The samples did indeed taste vaguely like their European models.

More interesting, though, are two other varieties, unique to Mexico. A young cheese, Adobera, has a fresh taste and slightly crumbly texture. An aged semi-soft cheese, named Lagos, is pale yellow and buttery smooth. Both have robust fermented scents and flavor. Real cheeses.

Two kilos of cheese: Adobera and Lagos

I bought the two local varieties to bring home to Jean. Four-and-a-half pounds is an awful lot of cheese for a couple, one member of which is struggling to keep weight and cholesterol levels under control. But Thomsen sells whole cheeses, not cut ones. It's all or nothing. I'm going to have to throw a couple of parties to use it all up.

I spent $180 pesos, which works out to around $3.60 US per pound. I think that's a little expensive for Mexico, but then, these aren't Manchego cheese food product. Artisanal cheeses cost more, and few are available elsewhere for less.

I was tempted to ask the attendant if she had any "Venezuelan Beaver Cheese," but I'm finding my attempts at humor tend to fall flat on Mexican ears, and besides, at that moment, I didn't know the Spanish word for "beaver". (It's el castor.)

Lacteos Thomsen is a hidden treasure, one of those delightful discoveries encountered when least expected, and which make the bother and expense of traveling so rewarding.