There are sort of two schools of thought on which kind of queso is best: There's queso fundido -- gooey melted cheese, browned under a broiler and layered with strips of chiles, roasted mushrooms or chorizo, usually piled onto tortillas -- and then there's the Tex-Mex staple queso, a creamy cheese and chile dip scooped up with chips.
So if you don't like it but the takeover is approved, then it's hard queso (cheese), as they say in Spain - Abbey's shares will be cancelled and shareholders will be issued with new shares.
Is it just us, or is queso a supremely underrated consume-while-high food?
And finally, in the vein of hors d'oeuvres I've always wanted to serve on Thanksgiving but never have, is queso fundido, essentially a caldron of melted cheese with chorizo stirred in.
So why is queso allowed on the menu now?
The culprit is believed to be queso fresco victims purchased from a door-to-door salesperson.
If you're up for cheese, there is queso fresco, which forms into a kind of fluffy quenelle in the hot broth, indistinguishable from tofu.
Courtney McBroom, a native Texan, believes that one of the best things to come from her home state is queso, a gooey concoction of processed cheese, pico de gallo, avocado, and cilantro.
Another typical Argentinian cheese is queso de Tafi (cheese from Tafi) which originated a long time ago in the Tucuman region.
After a long lunch at d'Berto, starting with oysters, clams and nécoras, moving on to palometo roja, an orange-red fish with gigantic eyes, and ending with a sublime torta de queso (cheesecake), it's one of my favourites, too.
