Hannah Gershowitz reflects on cheese and community
I’ve never done anything traditionally. I moved and changed schools often, so I didn’t hold onto friends or hobbies for long. I regularly struggled with a lack of belonging and community, and graduating college during the pandemic didn’t help. So, I took an unnerving leap and moved back to New York City in search of something grounding.
What I didn’t realize was that my wayward path through life would lead to finding my people and creating something niche and uniquely my own—tailored to how I operate and what I love. Upon moving, I discovered Campbell & Co., a family-run grocery, café, and cheese shop, and I began indulging in artisanal cheese. I’d eat a quarter-pound of Cypress Grove’s Humboldt Fog for lunch or snack on a block of Milton Creamery’s Prairie Breeze to distract from my woes. I chatted with the cheesemonger when I felt lonely. Cheese soon became my primary source of nourishment, physically and emotionally.
I didn’t realize then that cheese was my calling and not just a pick-me-up while trying different paths. What started as a comforting curiosity evolved into an obsession. I wanted to learn as much as I could about the variety of flavors and textures as well as the makers, mongers, and shop owners who cut and held this knowledge.
I would find any excuse to share my cheese bounties with friends—bringing cheese to parties, giving it as gifts, and centering hangouts around it. I was almost always met with curiosity and enthusiasm. After asking some friends to bring cheese to my birthday celebration, one of them suggested we start a monthly club. And so, Metro Cheese Club was born in my tiny Brooklyn apartment on Metropolitan Avenue.
Ten people squeezed into my living room, each show-and-telling a cheese and its accompaniments. The next month, attendance grew to 13, then 15 the following month. Soon, 30 people were gathering monthly (you can imagine the hilarious amount of cheese consumed on these nights).
I invited everyone I interacted with, including every cheesemonger I spoke to. I became friends with local mongers and started nurturing collaborations, throwing tasting nights and eventually hosting quarterly all-you-can-eat cheese concerts called Curds & Chords. Roughly 70 friends gathered in a then-stranger’s backyard for the first gathering, listening to local musicians and indulging in 50 pounds of cheese. The most recent Curds & Chords event featured 500 pounds of cheese and about 200 people.
As someone with social anxiety, hosting events has helped me connect in a space I feel confident in, one that’s built around mutual interests. I’ve invited people I once would’ve been too nervous to approach, and in doing so, sparked some of my closest friendships. I even found love at Cheese Club, as have others. Hence our slogan: “We met at Cheese Club.”
We have a running joke that brie is banned. There’s nothing wrong with it, but the goal is to expand your palate. Now, people are talking to mongers, showing up with obscure wedges, sharing odd cheese facts, inviting friends and strangers, making new connections, and finding love through Metro Cheese Club.
That’s what it’s all about: connecting with others, intentional consumption, supporting farmers and folks in the industry, and nurturing a shared passion through a growing community.
Hannah Gershowitz
From the music industry to cannabis to now cheese, Hannah Gershowitz is a Brooklyn-based writer and event producer. Blending her creativity with community-building, she runs Metro Cheese Club— a collective bringing people together through immersive food experiences like cheese concerts and guided tastings
