“Cull, clear your calendar, we’re tasting experimental mystery cheese this weekend.” Cullen generally goes along with whatever food adventure I bounce into.  The weekend before he stood happily by as I bought and fried pigs’ ears for dinner.   Before that, it was the place that served all types of tongue.  He grins with pride as I scarf down stinky fermented natto-it looks like alien spawn and might taste pretty similar, but I’m satisfied that’s a good thing, and he’s not going to argue.  Just so long as I can figure out how to pair everything I consume with craft beer.   I’ll try anything but eyeball, pig nose and Brussels’ sprouts.  Fortunately, none of those have a corresponding brew match, so we’re good.