Encourage your guests to contribute their own latest discoveries.  One may bring along as his ticket of admission a Primavera from Brazil; another some cubes of an Andean specialty just flown in from Colombia’s mountain city, Merida, and still wrapped in its aromatic leaves of Frailejon Lanudo; another a few wedges of savory sweet English Flower cheese, some flavored with rose petals, others with marigolds; another a tube of South American Kraeuterkaese.

Provide your own assortment of breads and try to include some of those fat, flaky old-fashioned crackers that country stores in New England can still supply.  Mustard?  Sure, if _.you_ like it.  If you want to be fancy, use a tricky little gadget put out by the Maille condiment-makers in France and available here in the food specialty shops.  It’s a miniature painter’s palate holding five mustards of different shades and flavors and two mustard paddles.  The mustards, in proper chromatic order, are:  jonquil yellow “Strong Dijon”; “Green Herbs”; brownish “Tarragon”; golden “Ora”; crimson “Tomato-flavored.”

And, just to keep things moving, we have restored an antique whirling cruet-holder to deliver Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, A-1, Tap Sauce and Major Grey’s Chutney.  Salt shakers and pepper mills are handy, with a big-holed tin canister filled with crushed red-pepper pods, chili powder, Hungarian-paprika and such small matters.  Butter, both sweet and salt, is on hand, together with, saucers or bowls of curry, capers, chives (sliced, not chopped), minced onion, fresh mint leaves, chopped pimientos, caraway, quartered lemons, parsley, fresh tarragon, tomato slices, red and white radishes, green and black olives, pearl onions and assorted nutmeats.

Some years ago, when I was collaborating with my mother, Cora, and my wife, Rose, in writing 10,000 Snacks (which, by the way, devotes nearly forty pages to cheeses), we staged a rather elaborate tasting party just for the three of us.  It took a two-tiered Lazy Lou to twirl the load.

The eight wedges on the top round were English and French samples and the lower one carried the rest, as follows: 

ENGLISH CHEDDAR CHESHIRE ENGLISH STILTON CANADIAN CHEDDAR
(rum flavored)

FRENCH MUeNSTER   FRENCH BRIE     FRENCH            FRENCH
CAMEMBERT         ROQUEFORT

SWISS SAPSAGO SWISS GRUYERE SWISS EDAM DUTCH GOUDA

ITALIAN          CZECH           ITALIAN           NORWEGIAN
PROVOLONE        OSTIEPKI        GORGONZOLA        GJETOST

HUNGARIAN LIPTAUER

The tasting began with familiar English Cheddars, Cheshires and Stiltons from the top row.  We had cheese knives, scoops, graters, scrapers and a regulation wire saw, but for this line of crumbly Britishers fingers were best.

The Cheddar was a light, lemony-yellow, almost white, like our best domestic “bar cheese” of old.

The Cheshire was moldy and milky, with a slightly fermented flavor that brought up the musty dining room of Fleet Street’s Cheshire cheese and called for draughts of beer.  The Stilton was strong but mellow, as high in flavor as in price.