A heartwarming message for lovers of great British cheese

Abite of cheddar or a slice of brie has always had the power to warm the cockles of my heart. Now it’s been confirmed by Swedish researchers that cheese is, indeed, good for the heart. And – even better – eating lots of it might actually put you at lower risk of cardiovascular disease than those who shun it.

Not just cheese, of course: the boffins at Uppsala University in Sweden looked at the world’s biggest consumers of dairy and discovered that higher intakes of dairy fat were not associated with an increased risk of death.

In fact, as Dr Matti Marklund put it: “We found those with the highest levels [of certain fatty acids found in dairy foods] actually had the lowest risk of cardiovascular disease.”

It is splendid news for lovers of dairy, myself included (though I have an allergy to it, which is another story), because it gives us the confidence we need to be proud of our creamy tastes – after years of being shamed by worthy vegans – and spurs us on to scoff even more.

Just think of that glorious spoonful of extra thick double cream, or its clotted Cornish cousin, going on to your autumnal apple crumble. Now add another dollop. Pour that bowl of Shreddies (with a scattering of Grape-nuts for added crunch) and fill it with full-fat milk.

But the best bit, I reckon, is the free pass these obliging Swedish scientists have given us to relish the cheese board in all its glory.

There are wonderful cheeses the world over, from flaky Cretan feta to rubbery Swiss Emmental, but there is nothing quite so delicious and joyously patriotic as British cheese.

Now it has been deemed safe, we can and should guzzle away with a flagwaving, heart-stabilising flourish. We are, today, at the pinnacle of a long and hard-fought British artisanal cheese revolution.

Over the past few decades pioneering cheesemakers from right across the United Kingdom have gone from strength to strength. If you’re a goat, sheep or a buffalo, a British cheesemaker has your udders in their sights. Long gone are the days when British cheese was a shameful, flabby orange thing in a plastic wrapper.

And our cheesemakers can be proud not only of their fabulously tasty, tangy and satisfying creations; we also have the best-named cheeses on the planet.

There’s Cornish yarg, which comes wrapped in nettle leaves and sounds rather like a West Country currency: “How many yargs for your goat?” I can easily imagine a farmer asking at the market.

Then there’s Stinking Bishop, a cow’s-milk cheese from Gloucestershire. Other competitors for the top spot name-wise include Renegade Monk (a rindwashed cheese bathed in ale from Somerset), Snodsbury Goat from Worcester and Cobblers Nibble from Northamptonshire.

As for taste, if I had to choose just two British cheeses, one would have to be the Cropwell Bishop Stilton from Devon – a creamy cheese with a sharp blue vein which, however much I may wish it was a year-round option, is the seminal taste of Christmas, and calls for lashings of claret to make lunch go on longer.

Then there is cheddar, a mature, hard cheese that is beautifully simple and profoundly British. Unbeatable with a Tuc biscuit and a glass of wine – my heart’s leaping at the mere thought.