pot cheese

So too does Inherent Vice, which is something like a love letter written in pot smoke to the Gold Coast.

A Yankee, whose face had been mauled in a pot-house brawl, assured General Jackson that he had received his scars in battle.

And, old ink pot, tuck a horse blanket under my chin, and rub me down with brickbats while I feed!

Aristide lived on bread and cheese, and foresaw the time when cheese would be a sinful luxury.

A bailee received some cheese and gave a receipt slating that it was to be kept at the owner's risk of loss from water.

Gunn touched the brim of his soft felt hat, which he wore turned down all round apparently in imitation of a flower-pot.