The mild pair made way for the third cheese, which our waiter was unable to identify. We took it home to conduct a series of experiments that mostly involved eating it in a manner that was too intense for a public place, especially because we were already getting side-eyed for eating paté and cheese with a fork. In the privacy of our kitchen, we found that the cheese's grainy texture, brutal saltiness, and alluring suaveness reminded us of gravelly Italian beaches—maybe some kind of softened pecorino romano? We're fairly sure this cheese has been bathed in the Mediterranean sun, judging by the unapologetic brine almost seeping from the meat. Despite our clearly legit expertise, we were ultimately unable to identify the specimen. A wild card can be a fun addition to a cheese plate, but we wish we could put a name to this mystery man.