The first time I ate mold was like something out of a Victorian morality play. It was in boarding school, when fuzzy blue-grey discs would sometimes appear on the bottom of a quiche, or after I saw one of the kitchen ladies use a cleaning rag to cover a tray of cauliflower cheese. We were told it was a good source of protein, and because I complained, I had to collect rubbish for a weekend in my school uniform. Outside…