One of the best gigs I’ve ever performed was at the Glasgow International Comedy Festival last year playing to an audience of four people, two Germans, a Pole and an Italian, none of whom spoke particularly good English and had no clue as to the majority of the cultural references I was alluding to in my act. I have a vivid memory of having to come down from the stage to try & explain to the four of them what a Gypsy Cream biscuit was. We all ended up as firm friends and over the past year have built up a pan-European biscuit distribution business. I was best man at the Italian’s wedding, a very plush affair in Milan; but it all got a bit ugly when the reception was raided by the Polizia di Stato for serving illegal Casu Marzu cheese.* I managed to slip out of a third floor window and shimmy down a drain-pipe. The drain-pipe pulled away from the wall when I was just over half way down, but fortunately my fall was broken by a large cardboard box containing several hundred white doves that were planned to be symbolically released at a climactic point in the day’s proceedings. But my taste for illicit cheese had been triggered. I tried Stilton, Danish Blue... But looking back now I realise that these were all just ‘gateway cheeses’ and I was already on the slippery slope to full blown addiction.