My Thoughts on Cheese

I almost never eat cheese. As a young child, I developed a strong dislike for cheese in all its forms. This seemingly random preference spurred a lifelong effort to avoid cheese and impress onto others the value of reducing cheese consumption. Today, I have a somewhat complex philosophy around cheese. I absolutely refuse to eat so-called “stinky cheeses” under any circumstances; I believe that nobody should eat them when around other people without checking first that the odor will not prove offensive to their table mates. Beyond stinky cheese, I try to avoid other kinds of cheese whenever I can, a stance supported by the gastric distress that can come with eating cheese and other dairy products. This avoidance has two exceptions: I will eat cheese in cases where it would be impolite to refuse, and I will eat cheese in foods where the cheese’s taste and texture is totally dominated by the rest of the food. In this essay, I will explain my philosophy and attempt to persuade readers, both cheese-eaters and cheese-haters, to adopt a similar one.

Cheese stinks. Literally. Stinky cheeses are popular among cheese connoisseurs around the world. My younger sister counts among their ranks; she has a twisted love for Parmesan especially and will pile it on any food she can. An article from Healthline characterizes Parmesan cheese as “an Italian cheese with a characteristically strong and nutty flavor that may be sweet, salty, and bitter at the same time” (Lang). This description leaves out one key characteristic of the cheese—it stinks, especially when it has been heated. Indeed, my sister’s eating it can trigger my gag reflex if I happen to be too close while the fumes waft away from the freshly warmed cheese. This is a result of a well-known quality of Parmesan cheese—it contains butyric acid, which one article describes as “a chemical that contributes to the smell of both Parmesan cheese and vomit” (Jagatia), and which is commonly known to contribute to Parmesan’s distinctive odor. People who deliberately eat Parmesan cheese around other humans without their consent are assaulting their olfactory sensibilities and being generally rude.

I share my disgust around smelly cheese with many like-minded people around the globe. One 2016 study conducted in France found that inhaling the odor of various cheeses was more likely to produce disgust than the odor of other foods. The study discovered that “among the individuals showing disgust for a given food, those disliking cheese represented a higher proportion… than those disliking the other food categories” (Royet et al.). Even in France, a famously cheese-loving country, the odor of cheese is more likely to produce a feeling of disgust than other foods. This aligns with my own experience; while I dislike other foods, nothing provokes the same visceral reaction as cheese. This finding reinforces the fact that cheese’s odor can make it unpleasant and impolite to consume around innocent tablemates of the cheese eater.

An article from the Independent cites William Hanson, an etiquette expert who published a book on the topic, in its description of appropriate workplace snacks. The article combines Hanson’s expertise in etiquette with outside polling to create its own list of office snack etiquette rules. The first rule on this list is to “avoid anything noisy or smelly due to the open-plan nature of most offices today” (Richmond). This etiquette rule can be applied beyond the restrained context of office snacking. It is clearly impolite to force anyone else to endure unpleasant odors without their consent. Stinky cheeses have a strong unpleasant odor. Therefore, people should never eat them without the explicit consent of all those in the area who could be subjected to their odor without an avenue for escape.

At this point, I have established that stinky cheese can be an unpleasant, even rude choice of food when eating with others. Even if you disagree with me on my policy of avoiding cheese, or on any other part of my argument, I hope that we can find agreement on this first point: everyone can agree that it is impolite to subject people to unpleasant odors without their consent, so therefore smelly cheeses should not be eaten around people who have not demonstrated their comfort with such odors. If these other people have indicated that they are comfortable with the odor, the rules of politeness allow for the consumption of stinky cheese. 

Although it may be acceptable to eat stinky cheese in certain circumstances, it is also important to note that cheese eating in general can lead to intestinal distress, making it a poor choice of food for many people who want to avoid copious amounts of gas.

For people who are lactose intolerant, the act of eating cheese or other dairy products can cause significant discomfort. The Mayo Clinic describes how people who are lactose intolerant “have diarrhea, gas and bloating after eating or drinking dairy products” (“Lactose Intolerance”). This is a common experience—lactose intolerance is quite common around the globe. The prevalence of this condition makes it extremely likely that many people are experiencing this gastrointestinal distress without even realizing its cause; abstaining from dairy products such as cheese would likely lead to these gastric effects being reduced or even eliminated. Granted, there are products which can also reduce the effects of dairy consumption for lactose-intolerant people, but many people do not know that they are lactose intolerant, and thus cannot benefit from these products. For this reason, many people who are concerned about gastrointestinal issues may consider avoiding dairy entirely.

While cheese is smelly and can cause gastric distress, it must be acknowledged that there are some cases where one either can or must consume cheese. First is when there is no other alternative. In my personal experience, I have sometimes gone to dinners where cheese is an unavoidable part of the menu. For instance, on a school camping trip, the only food one night was mac ’n’ cheese. That night, I ate the mac ’n’ cheese, even though I strongly dislike cheese, because it was the only option available to me. In another example, I have been served salads with cheese incorporated in. It would have been impolite to pick out the cheese particles from the salad, so I ate the salad without adjustment or complaint. In both cases, I did not make any complaints or try to change the situation, as there was no alternative or way to eliminate the cheese from the food being served, so complaining would have had no positive impact on anyone. 

These personal experiences can be extrapolated into general rules. If one goes to a dinner party or other event in which the host is serving a meal which includes cheese as part of it, and there is no way to avoid the cheese, then it is acceptable to eat some of the cheese. To refuse would be both impolite and impractical—not only is it rude to turn down food, but refusing to eat food with cheese could mean that one eats nothing at all. In these situations, people should eat their food without complaint or apparent discomfort, as any expression of discomfort will have no positive impact and only serve to make both the guests and host uncomfortable. This would not help anyone. The second case in which it is acceptable to eat cheese is in the context of foods in which the cheese’s odor and texture completely is transformed by whatever food it had become part of, to the point that it can scarcely be called “cheese” anymore. Pizza serves as the typical example in my case. One of the most popular foods in America, pizza is delicious and almost universally appreciated, despite its prominent usage of cheese. Most pizzas start off with mozzarella, a milder and generally less offensive cheese. The cheese’s potentially unpleasant texture and flavor are moderated further—even transformed—by the incorporation of pizza sauce and high heat into the process of making a pizza. With these elements, the cheese on a good pizza is almost unrecognizable. This process makes the cheese on pizza palatable for me, and I believe that this same thought process can be used in the context of other foods which use mild cheeses whose original flavors are overpowered by the rest of the dish—lasagna comes to mind. In these contexts, cheese can be an acceptable part of a meal, if it is not consumed in excess and that the (previously discussed) downsides of eating cheese are known to the consumer. With these foods, the intestinal challenges that can come with cheese may be ignored to fully enjoy the depth of flavor of the dish itself.

At this point, my argument ends. As I described at the beginning of my essay, I do not like cheese, and I have developed an intellectual framework around this disliking. Through this

work, I hope that I have persuaded you, both cheese-lovers and cheese-haters, that people should avoid the consumption of smelly cheeses in public settings because of the unpleasant odor. To the people who are unsure on cheese, I hope that I have pushed you a little further towards avoiding cheese with my description of the prevalence of lactose intolerance, and my explanation of how its effects can be decreased by reducing consumption of dairy products. Finally, to my fellow cheese-haters, I hope that I have given you some food for thought on exceptions to our avoidance of cheese. If I have made you think on any of these topics, I consider this essay a success.

Works Cited

Jagatia, Anand. “What’s in a Smell?” BBC Science Focus Magazine, BBC, 12 July 2023,

www.sciencefocus.com/the-human-body/whats-in-a-smell.

“Lactose Intolerance.” Mayo Clinic, Mayo Foundation for Medical Education and Research,

www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/lactose-intolerance/symptoms-causes/syc-20374232. Accessed 27 June 2025.

Lang, Ariane. “Parmesan Cheese: Nutrition, Benefits, and Uses.” Healthline, Healthline Media, 1

May 2023, www.healthline.com/nutrition/parmesan-cheese-nutrition-benefits-uses.

Richmond, Steve. “Office ‘etiquette’ Guide Advises against Eating Smelly Foods in

Workspaces.” The Independent, 26 Sept. 2023, www.theindependent.com/life-style/food-office-advice-eggs-fish-b2418070.html.

Royet, Jean-Pierre, et al. “The neural bases of disgust for cheese: An fmri study.” Frontiers in

Human Neuroscience, vol. 10, 17 Oct. 2016, https://doi.org/10.3389/fnhum.2016.0051

How to Help E:Bios: Cross-Registration with MassBay Community College

It is common knowledge that Olin’s biology and chemistry offerings alone are not sufficient for most students interested in designing a useful, marketable Biomedical Engineering (E:Bio) degree. For this reason, many students who wish to become E:Bios also try to take Wellesley biology and chemistry classes; these classes are extremely valuable because they offer training which Olin simply does not provide. Brandeis is also an option, but is much farther away and harder to get to, as there is no shuttle.

These E:Bio students face a major challenge: Wellesley science classes fill up very quickly, and the professors are often unable to offer additional slots for cross-registering students. Due to this scarcity, many E:Bio students take Olin technical classes, snap up a Wellesley science when they can, and call it a degree. It works, but barely – it’s always a scramble to find science courses which are relevant. These E:Bio students just don’t have access to the biology or chemistry courses they need. 

For this problem, I propose a solution: Cross-registration with MassBay Community College (MassBay). I have taken multiple classes there, and believe that it could help with this fundamental problem of E:Bios having trouble taking biology or chemistry. 

MassBay has the full traditional chemistry sequence for health professions (General Chemistry 1 & 2, Organic Chemistry 1 & 2, and Biochemistry), and also offers biology classes (Biology 1 & 2, Anatomy and Physiology, various Biotechnology offerings, etc.). An Olin student interested in E:Bio could take introductory science classes at MassBay and then go to advanced 200 or 300-level Wellesley science courses later; these more advanced courses at Wellesley tend to have more open spots. 

Massbay is not a nationally renowned institution like Wellesley, but it still provides an effective education. The class sizes are small (10-30 students), and the professors are there to teach, not do research or anything else. I have taken Chemistry 1 and 2, along with Organic Chemistry 1, at Massbay and have felt that I have gained a level of training which transfers well over to my Wellesley Organic Chemistry 2 class. 

As an institution which caters to both traditional students and working professionals, MassBay offers classes in a range of times which open up opportunities for many students. They have night classes, summer classes, and others, meaning that Olin students who often struggle with fitting Wellesley courses into their schedules may have more flexibility with MassBay ones. 

While there are clear benefits that cross-registration with MassBay could have for Olin E:Bio students, such a partnership could also have benefits for students beyond E:Bios. (Two of Massbay’s offerings which I noted as personally interesting were their EMT course and their car mechanic training progression: if you understand how to fix something, you will have better knowledge of how to design it in the future.) This cross-registration would also have distinct benefits for Massbay students. 

First off, Olin’s unique application-based classes (SoftDes, Collaborative Design, Mech Proto, Comp Arch, Fun Robo, etc.) could offer an opportunity to these students to take courses beyond the scope of their MassBay curriculum.

Additionally, the unusual contexts of both institutions could be expanded to enable Massbay students to transfer to Olin without starting again in freshman year. Transfer students are required to start again in freshman year because Olin’s educational system is too distinct from traditional institutions for someone to just jump in midway. However, a MassBay student who has taken a good number of Olin classes might be able to transfer into second or third year right out of the gate. Olin typically loses a student or two in freshman year (99% retention rate still means one person leaves!), so this transfer student could take their place. 

Here are my thoughts around how a cross-registration agreement with MassBay could be reasonably arranged: 

Olin students would be allowed to take MassBay courses after the completion of their first year at Olin. Similarly, MassBay pre-engineering and pre-biology/chemistry/biotechnology students would be allowed to take Olin classes in their second year of enrollment as an upper-level elective. This way, both MassBay and Olin students would be incentivized to explore the offerings of their own institutions before branching out. 

Oliner credit distribution for courses taken at MassBay would be decided exactly the same as it is for other cross-registered courses. Olin classes taken by MassBay students would count for engineering or science elective credit. 

Olin students would have to arrange their own transportation to MassBay, and vice versa. This would be considerably simpler than with Brandeis—MassBay already supports its students in getting to the institution through Ubers and a shuttle, and it is also a reasonable-ish (20-30 minute) bike ride away. 

Olin would follow a compensation agreement for coursework similar to that which it has with the other members of the BBOW group.

I believe that an arrangement following these guidelines could absolutely be actionable and would enable students from both institutions to reap benefits. 

This article is something I’ve been mulling over for a few weeks, and I’d love to hear your opinions on it. If you have any thoughts about this idea, please feel free to find me around campus (I’m Sammy Socol; you can look me up in the student directory) or email me at ssocol@olin.edu.

*Two of Massbay’s offerings which I noted as personally interesting were their EMT course and their car mechanic training progression: if you understand how to fix something, you will have better knowledge of how to design it in the future. 

The Hunger Artist: Olin Edition

I recently read a story by Franz Kafka called “The Hunger Artist.” The titular character—the hunger artist himself—goes from town to town, locks himself in a cage, and stops eating. People come from miles away to see the man in all his bony glory. After a few weeks of starvation, to much fanfare and massive crowds, the hunger artist emerges from his cage and breaks his fast. Every time, he protests: he could do more! However, his publicist has determined that general interest declines after several weeks of the artist starving himself. When interest drops, he must eat.

As time goes on, hunger artists fall out of fashion; the only place that will take the artist is the zoo. The hunger artist, initially insulted, quickly sees the appeal of his new position—he is no longer being forced to eat every few weeks, so he can begin his greatest-ever fast. 

 In the final words of the story, the artist is discovered, weak and emaciated, by a zoo worker. The man asks the artist why he continues to fast, and the hunger artist responds: “Because I have to fast, I can’t help it… I couldn’t find the food I liked. If I had found it, believe me, I would have made no fuss and stuffed myself like you or anyone else.”* 

And then he dies. The zoo replaces him with a big cat.

Franz Kafka died of tuberculosis at the age of 40. In his will, he instructed his friend to burn all but six of his works—the Hunger Artist was one of the six to be preserved. Why did Kafka elevate the Hunger Artist to be among the six? What about the story made him recognize its compelling power?

I read the story while eating lunch at work over the summer. It was July, an especially busy stretch where I’d spend twelve or thirteen hours at work, then go home, shower, prepare food, sleep, and repeat the next day. I did that for the full month, with an occasional break day sprinkled in to avoid a nervous breakdown. 

Why did I do it? The overtime was nice, but I didn’t need the money. I told myself I wanted the experience, but any dimwit could see how that much time at work wasn’t going to lead to any actual learning. In reality, I kept working for the same reason the hunger artist kept fasting—I didn’t know how to do anything different. 

Kafka’s hunger artist fasts because he doesn’t know how to stop.

Like many Oliners, I like to push myself. I dive into whatever I’m focusing on at the moment—the joy of figuring out a challenging problem or developing a new skill feels addictive.

This trait is powerful, and it can also become a problem. While enjoying the last few days of sunshine on the O a few weeks ago, I ended up chatting with a friend about Olin’s work culture. While reflecting, she remarked: “I can’t slow down. I want to, but I just can’t… if I did, then I would have to think, and I really don’t like doing that.” Many Oliners share this sentiment, whether they realize it or not. Like the hunger artist, we push ourselves over the brink from pleasurable challenge into self-defeating masochism, not because we want to, but because it is the only thing we know how to do.

This past summer wasn’t my first time making this mistake. In my junior year of high school, I took every advanced placement and honors class I could fit into my schedule while also studying for the SAT, leading my robotics team, helping run the Model UN club, and working at my part-time job. Why? Because I could—I figured I’d challenge myself. 

That year, I steadily sank into depression. I went through the motions, got the grades, and outwardly didn’t present as though anything were wrong. But I wasn’t feeling any joy anymore—my classes weren’t interesting to me, and the only thing that made me feel happy was working out for the hour or two I’d do it each day. When I finally went to my school counselor for help, she seemed surprised, fumbling around with a bunch of words that summed up to: “Your grades are great and your teachers love you… why are you here?” In my stupor, I felt a faint flicker of amusement.  I was there because I didn’t feel emotions anymore, and I thought that was probably a bad thing. 

I had starved myself for so long that I forgot how to eat. 

I have loved my time at Olin, and yet I still find myself falling into the same trap that I have so many times before: I am doing too much. When I examine the tasks that take up my time—classes, my job, research, the stuff I do for fun—I find each to be relevant and justified; to reach my goals, each component is essential. I have no plans to stop anything anytime soon, and yet at the same time I know that I am doing too much to live a balanced, happy, and sustainable life. 

I am fully aware that I’m overdoing it, and I’m still doing it anyway. 

It might seem like I am writing this article to make a change. That I’m going to fix my work habits, seek more balance in my life, and tell you all to do the same. But I’m not going to. I don’t think that reading this article will inspire any of you to make changes, either—Olin attracts a very specific kind of person who likes to keep adding things to their plate, just as I do. 

Instead, I’ll end with this. Yom Kippur happened a few weeks ago, and like many Jews, I fasted and went to services. It was a beautiful opportunity to reflect, focus my thoughts, and consider the year ahead, surrounded by a community of people doing the same. At the end of the holiday, I broke my fast with some orange juice, feeling the liquid soothe my throat with each swallow. 

There can be joy in fasting, but only if it ends. 

*From the Muir Translation. Can be found online by looking up “Franz Kafka The Hunger Artist Muir Translation” or with link: https://englishiva1011.pbworks.com/f/HUNGERAR.PDF