Die, demon whiskers!
Ah! Now, that's a beauty.
They don't make dried sap like this anywhere in the world.
Not even Michigan.
You better run, you...
Look out!
Dietrich? What are you doing here?
What am I doing here? What are you doing here?
This is my aunt's cabin.
You weren't with us the whole time? Sometimes, it's hard to tell.
We're trying to tag that moo... Wait, you're Canadian?
Of course I'm Canadian. I mean, my name is Dietrich.
Yeah, that's a German name.
No, it's... Oh, wait.
Oh no, am I adopted?
Does anyone know why there are so many pee buckets around here?
That's no pee bucket.
That's farmer Dietrich's magic golden nectar.
So, it is a pee bucket.
Ugh! It's not a pee bucket.
Oh.
It's candy.
These magic maple trees leak out sap which dries overnight,
and then I harvest it.
I am an entrepreneur.
Mm-mmm.
It's really sticky.
These, uh, sap candies aren't naturally occurring.
Of course they are. Look.
Damn it!
Give me that, you light-fingered varmint!
- Mmm. This is squirrel candy. - Hey!
The red squirrels you're chasing bite into the maple trees
to make the sap flow out,
and rather than eat it right away, they prefer to let it dry overnight
so that they can savor the concentrated sugar.
Mmm, squirrel candy is delicious. It doesn't taste like piss at all.
Animals don't have patience to make candy. They'll scarf down anything.
- No, not true. - Whoa!
These squirrels could be eating pine seeds, insects.
- There's tons of food out here. - Whoa!
But they put in the effort to make candy
because it's delicious and because animals have taste.
Get the hell out of here! Thieving tree rats!
Oh God, no.
- That's our moose! - Larry!
It was one of my first solo expeditions.
I was just 25 years old, fresh out of the army.
In those days, I was reckless and headstrong,
not the prudent, dignified gentleman of letters
that I am today.
Ha! Is that all you've got, wind?
Barely a zephyr!
I've had more violent gusts come out of my...
Damn it! Those ice axes were monogrammed.
You don't happen to have a spare ice ax, do you?
Is it really worth risking your life to lick salt off a rock?
Mmm, not bad.
Hmm?
Ooh, that can't be good.
Not cool, eagle!
Oh yeah. Definitely fractured a vertebrae.
And I think... Is that...
Nice.
And that's when he appeared, the man who saved my life.
An old cheese hermit who smelled like Camembert and hope.
He carried me to safety on a cushion of Brillat-Savarin
and brought me back to his secret cheese cave,
where he made the most fantastic tasting cheese
ever to grace the mortal tongues of men.
- And women. - Of course. Forgive me.
All the cheese-seeking tongues, regardless of gender.
That was 26 years ago,
but I haven't stopped thinking about that cheese since.
Ooh! I hope the cheese hermit is still there.
Me and cheese are basically in an abusive relationship,
and, honestly, I'm fine with it.
That metaphor makes me very uncomfortable.
But I also pray he's alive.
And that he still loves French dips. Ha-ha!
The king of meat sandwiches for the king of fine cheeses.
Fair exchange, no?
Isn't this a lot of work for just some cheese?
A lot of work? Ha!
Andean spectacled bears forego easy pickings on the ground
to pry land snails off of a perilous cliff face.
Marine iguanas ignore all the vegetation on land
to dive 150 feet below the waves
to munch green algae on the ocean floor.
Bearded pigs travel hundreds of miles
and risk being attacked by tigers
just to eat exquisitely ripe rambutans.
Surely, to taste the finest cheese in human existence,
one could endure an easy hike, maybe 30 hours in total,
just across that bridge and up to that peak.
That's an easy hike?
Everything's relative, Dietrich.
Oh! That translation's slightly off.
Can we stop for lunch first? Ugh, I'm starving.
Ah! I thought you'd never ask.
Please tell me you didn't pack egg salad sandwiches again.
- Nope. - Good.
Because I'd rather eat a plate of maggots
than watch you chew warm egg chunks soaked in mayonnaise.
In fact, have you tried maggots?
They're not bad, once you rinse them off.
Otherwise, they're covered in bacteria and feces.
I would never bring something so pedestrian
as an egg salad sandwich to the Alps.
We're in European cuisine country.
- So, I went online… - I don't like where this is going.
…Where I discovered a whole new world of culinary sophistication.
May I present…
my garde-manger of molecular gastronomic delights?
- Dietrich, no. - That isn't food.
I've got jellied emulsions, ice slicked with balsam oil,
and for dinner, aerated kimchi silk
heated on a bed of Civil War era gunpowder.
Stomping through avalanche country with explosives. Smart.
And if you crave even more flavor, I've got my salt foam spritzer.
Ugh! That's saltier than a sailor's armpit.
This is sophisticated snackery.
Better than whatever you have stuffed in your bland lunchbox.
Oh, not a chance!
I brought my specialty,
a bag of potato chips mashed up with ketchup.
I call it Ketchips, or Wetchips.
Or sometimes Ketchupotato, if I'm feeling rustic.
Mm-mm-mm!
Salty, sweet, and gooey.
You both need to learn how to pack light and eat well on the move.
Let me show you how it's done.
Aha!
Bon appétit.
Fresh seasonal maggots.
Mmm! Want one?
Mmm, I'm good.
- Hmm? - I'm full.
Your loss. Hm, hm, hm, hm.
We've got enough maggots to last till we get to the cheese hermit.
- Pedophile attack! - Look!
Oh, those aren't pedophiles, Dietrich.
They're lammergeier, lamb vultures.
They love the taste of bone marrow,
so they drop carcass bones from the sky to smash them open on rocks.
They're aiming for the rocks. Let's get to that bridge.
Ow!
My pack! Crap! I have, like, 15 donuts in there.
Come on, Dietrich! It's perfectly safe!
Ow! It's reasonably safe!
Uh, you go ahead.
I got you.
I'm gonna die!
Yeah, you are, but not today.
At least let me have one last meal.
Ah.
Deconstructed bison dust gently inhaled through a CPAP machine.
Sublime.
Dietrich, give me your han... Oh!
This is called cheese. Here comes the cheese train.
- French dip! French dip! - Oh, you gotta eat something new, darling.
You can't just exist on breast milk, formula and French dips forever.
You know, people think giant pandas only eat bamboo all the time,
but did you know there's something pandas like even better than bamboo?
Bones.
Pandas eat bones.
Bamboo is yummy,
but I also like eating insects, bird eggs and bones.
Give me bones!
Ah, fine. But you should know, cheese is your mommy's favorite food.
Mmm.
Swing him to the edge so he can grab hold of my hand.
Uh, no! But I'm so delicate!
My refined palate might shatter.
Oh no! The gunpowder I was going to eat!
There goes the easy way.
Looks like we just chose the hard way.
Who's in charge of these signs?
We can't go that way. We don't have any food left.
Yeah, all I have left is this. I don't even know if it's edible.
I microwaved a peanut for 45 minutes, and this is what came out.
We should head back.
No, we can do this.
I once survived for three days on nothing but monkey piss.
Yeah, I remember that. We had tons of water.
We will take the long path,
climb the mountain, brave the elements, and get that cheese.
It'll be worth it.
Our bridge destroyed, we had no choice but to trek up a long and difficult path.
Twenty-three hours into our ascent,
hunger set in, and our focus began to waver.
Uncle Cheese...
I mean, Uncle Brie…
Agh! Whatever. I'm so hungry!
Can we eat these? I've seen squirrels do it.
Ow!
Squirrels just eat the pine nuts inside the pine cone,
not the pine cone itself.
Here, have a maggot.
Oh, actually, we're out of maggots.
Mario?
Guys, we're saved!
Mario's here! From the Italian deli on the corner.
Buongiorno, Mario. What's good?
Tell me you got that fresh gabagool.
She's having hunger visions again.
Yep. Bonnie. Bonnie. Hey, hey.
That's not Mario or a deli, that's a red-backed shrike.
They spear meat on sharp thorns and branches to let it cure.
It's like dry-aging jerky.
What? Why would a bird make jerky?
Hey, Mario, I'll take half a pound of gabagool and some burgoo.
Oh! Who are you calling cheap?
Oh. Is this because I said no to a second date?
Sorry, Mario, she didn't bring her wallet. Come on.
Agh! You're a bastard, Mario! You couldn't handle me and you know it!
Dietrich, salt spritz. Stat.
Ugh! Gross!
Whose dog licked my mouth?
Wait a second.
The French dip!
Hey! No, no, no! We need that for the cheese hermit!
You've been holding out on us this whole time!
Oh, French dip, nothing will ever taste as good as you.
Not even ice cream on a hot dog bun.
Bonnie, don't do it.
Think of the cheese.
Damn your cheese to hell!
Blasphemer!
No! A supersonic chicken just stole my lunch!
Even worse.
That's a peregrine falcon, fastest bird in the sky.
They don't eat unless they're totally alone.
They'll even cover up their food with their wings
so no one sees them eat.
I totally get it. Dining is all about ambience.
That's mine!
Oh no!
Oh!
Oh! Oh!
You'll never get away with this!
Huh?
Oh! Uncle B!
He has no energy. He needs to eat.
Don't you have anything else in that stupid belt?
Well, I do have one thing I bought online, but it's not really food.
It's more like a psychoactive flavor enhancer.
- Give me that! - Wait!
You're only supposed to take half.
Uncle B! Are you okay?
Huh?
Cheese-landia!
Streets are made of Soumaintrain, fountains of Fontina.
And a rock made of Roquefort. Genius!
Peco-rhino!
Hey! Don't eat my house, you fat dump!
- Ooh! - Whoa!
Mmm! Oh, Gorgonzola goblin!
My husband! Murderer!
- Mama, what happened to Papa? - No! Don't look!
Oh God. Sorry, I... I've destroyed another cheese family.
I'll pay for your cheese boy's college tuition.
Mommy!
- Say cheese! - Oh!
Cheese is always worth the effort, no matter the cost.
Oh, Mom, I miss you. What happened on that expedition?
Where did you go? No.
No, no, no, no, don't go!
Stay with me, Mom. You don't have to explain yourself.
Just let me see your face one last time.
Mmm.
That's the fat dump that ate my husband!
Fondue! Fondue! Fondue!
Cheese goblins, I'll eat you all!
Shut up! Enough already!
You gotta quit it with these cheese goblins.
What? Where are we?
How long have I been out?
I'd say about five hours.
You've been blabbering incoherently about cheese
since you ate Dietrich's weird internet pill.
Whoa!
Following those ibex is a lot harder than you made it sound.
We've got this. I have my trusty climbing axes.
You're just pulling out the axes now?
Honestly, until a minute ago,
I was trying to hire a cheese lawyer to beat a first-degree murder charge
and escape goblin mob justice.
Okay, fair enough.
Huh?
So, we meet again.
We gotta move. Go! Climb!
No cheese is worth this.
Oh!
This won't hold much longer!
Ha!
You should've finished me off when you had the chance.
What are you looking at? Keep walking.
Ahh!
I admire your persistence!
That eagle's gonna toss us down this cliff and eat our jellied body meats.
My life coach was right.
That's it! This golden eagle wants to eat us.
But what if he doesn't like how we taste?
Dietrich, toss me the dog saliva spritzer thingo!
- It's a salt foam... - Now!
Yes!
It worked!
Oh my God!
Dietrich, your food is so disgusting, it scared off a vicious golden eagle.
All right, we've earned our cheese.
And by God, we're going to collect.
- Uh-oh. - Something wrong?
Mmm, maybe?
You made it.
What?
Oh man!
I can't wait to push my face into this cheese!
You're gonna love it.
It's made exclusively in this cave
using milk from the mouflon that never leave this ridge.
It's delicious.
And also, in a strange way, I guess it reminds me of my mom.
So good to see you again, mon ami.
Ugh! Yikes.
May I present Le Grande Panteur?
Oh, it's even more impressive than I remember.
Wha... What are you doing?
Ah, oui.
My friend here has taught me new techniques in culinary artistry.
Oh no, stop! Please, no!
Ugh! Damn it, Dietrich.
Voilà. Spherified cheese.
Air-smoked by the explosion of Civil War era gunpowder.
Molecular gastronomy at its finest.
Really? It looks like one of Frankenstein's testicles.
Yeah, it's not great.
My God! Really?
Blech!
Tastes like a goat's anus.
Right?
It's so… so hard to talk about food when you're hungry.
What about you, big fella? Got something I can eat? I am dying.
Oscar!
Please, please, let that be for me.
- For me. Aw! - No. This is for Oscar.
This is not how an ostrich likes its food.
How does an Ostrich like its food?
We have to remember, it doesn't have teeth.
- Hmm. - What he needs is rocks.
So, ostriches, like crocodilians, eat rocks.
Did you just pull rocks out of your pocket?
That's right. Pocket rocks.
Inside their stomach, the rocks eat away at the food
and turn it into a delicious, nutritious slurry like so.
No, that's...
You go, and…
voilà!
That's a meal fit for an ostrich.
That's actually pretty good.
To your health, Oscar.