Cheese, wine and fireplaces

I was lucky enough to be invited recently to visit an exceptionally friendly group of humans and observe more of their customary practices of an autumnal Friday evening.
The observed ritual--for so I feel that it should be called--appeared to be a modern yet nostalgic variant on that most perverse of human geometries, the Holy Trinity. Added anthropological interest derived from the fact that it employed an obvious mixture of mythologies:

1. The fireplace (out of shot), with obvious pagan symbolism. The burning of tree branches representing nature; that of wooden pallets (also making up the table in question), a post-industrial aesthetic. Customs observed in the course of the evening showed an obvious but complex relationship with the other three fundamental elements: the ashing of cigarettes into the fireplace representing earth, the opening of windows to let smoke escape representing air, and the requirement for pastis to be drunk in its mixed, bright yellow state to prevent nausea, symbolising water.
2. Wine: converted, by a process of cannibalistic transubstantiation (commonly known among humans as a "hangover") into blood, in much the same way stale crackers become flesh. As far as I can see this is yet another reason to disapprove of the violence associated with Christianity: it should be noted that despite their fearsome appearance hippos are committed vegetarians. However, as an engaged observer I felt myself unable to refuse to partake.
3. Cheese: a more mysterious mythology, extensively documented in but not confined to the hexagonal geographical zone known as France. The picture above provides for a number of possibilities: the form of the cheese I found myself sitting on (trois laits: cow, goat, sheep in the same cheese, mmm!) suggests an analogy with the Wheel of Fortune, while the rounded shapes most cheeses points to a gender contrast with the phallic orientation of most wine containers--logs of goat's cheese and wine in a cask providing an exception that proves the rule.

It would be unfair of me to describe over-indulgence as a peculiarly human trait: Dionysus has been known to bestow sentient status on many inanimate objects, as well as greatly improve the seductive and linguistic prowess of lego hippopotamuses. Witness, at a late state of the evening, my animated yet decorous conversation with a rather attractive mature-aged shoe, whose tongue-tied shyness had been cured by the removal of several rows of stitching:

P.S.: Would the human belonging to this shoe be so kind as to supply me with its name and phone number?