The Standard Semi-Correct Oxford Dictionary does not have good words to say about “cheesy”. Nor is its entry on “buns” any more lexicographically wholesome. “Cheesy” seems to have gotten into trouble sometime during the ’70s when it came to refer, slangily, to a “scene” where unprepossessing individuals clad in gauchely-patterned rayon-polyester-blend jumpsuits hang around in a dark, red velvet festooned bar listening to Engelbert Humperdinck wannabees. And, poor “buns” has been on the iffy list since Medieval Times when it was used colloquially by a drunken baker to refer to the cushiest part of his wife’s nether-regions. After that, rumour has it, his dough never rose again.
But now, in two-thousand-whatever–and I don’t want to hear any sniggering–“Cheesy Buns” has lost all of its pejorative poo-poo-ed-ness. In fact, it’s done a complete about-face and even the most discerning hostesses (including Mrs. Rosalind Piedmont–yes, of the south Forrest Hill Piedmonts) can be heard inquiring of her guests if they would be pleasured with another one of her Cheesy Buns, without the slightest blush of impropriety. What’s more, you can easily slip almost anything between them–except for your sausage, an act that might well breach even the most modern limits of decorum. Luckily, such a faux pas is easily smoothed over by the happy introduction of another, more aptly shaped, Peaceful Valley Farms product: Cheesy Sausage and Hot Dog Buns.