Abrigo, It Scoffs at Your Mainstream Cheese Shapes

Actually the "tronchon" shape is pretty traditional for certain parts of Spain, it just is extra stylized in today's offering. 

It's always a bit of a treat when you come across a cheese listed in neither Murray's Cheese Handbook, published by the same folks responsible for the top-rate cheese counter in NYC, nor the even more comprehensive Cheese Primer by Steven Jenkins; truly one of the Dons of the US cheese crime scene. And by Don I mean the man is the first American to be awarded France's prestigious Chevalier du Taste-Fromage. Pretty much cheese knighthood. By US cheese crime scene I mean anyone who's anyone in US cheese. Yes there's a cheese A-list. He's on it, I'm not. Yet. 

The point of this indulgence of my wandering mind is to point out that just because a cheese isn't explicitly mentioned by cheese royalty doesn't mean it's not worth trying. Case in point: Abrigo. A Spanish cheese that looks wild and has a dark and mysterious flavor, it further shows off what you can do with a little goat's milk and a lot of hard work. And salt. 

Origin: Valencia, Spain 

Milk: Goat, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3-5 months

Notes: Abrigo is Spanish for overcoat, or shelter. The shape doesn't scream coat to me, perhaps the mold covering the outside? Mine's a little on the elderly side so that mold has mostly dried and hardened into a shell but who can say. Must add "ask a Spaniard why" to my to-do list.

Thoughts: The milk of the proud Murciana breed of goats is used and the result is intriguing and horizon-expanding, if not a fast-favorite.  The initial flavor is very muted, neither bold nor particularly tangy. As the flavor develops in your mouth, however, salty and tangy develop at the same time but remain mild. A very dry cheese with a slightly bitter aftertaste, Abrigo is reserved and some might even say underflavored, suffering from a lack of creaminess to better convey the muted flavors. Nevertheless the complexity and almost dark tone keeps it interesting and off the boring list. Besides, how could a cheese that shape be boring? I want to build a house around it. 


Caution 
There is no to-do list. There is, however, a cheeses-yet-to-be-tried list, and it keeps me pretty busy as it is.  

Chabichou du Poitou, It Has its Own Website

Seriously though.

Right Here

Ambitious little goat cheese, no? Sadly I can't read French and so, apart from the animal noises at the start of every page, I get very little out of it. A fascinating read, I'm sure. Pity.

Today the French once again prove either that size isn't everything or that size is actually everything, I'm still not sure which. They wrote the book on small surface ripened goat cheeses, and so we find today's Chabichou du Poitou. As the name suggests it is a name controlled version of a more widely available Chabichou style cheese, this one being made strictly in certain parts of the Loire River Valley. Raw goat's milk makes, as always, for a potent punch packaged in a petit pouch of pabulum.

Origin: Loire Valley, France

Milk: Goat, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 2 Weeks to 2 months

Notes: 45% fat content per solid mass, it's just a wee chubby goat cheese. Don't judge this book by it's white, occasionally moldy, wrinkled cover. It's got a good heart!

Thoughts: Each bite is very creamy but the flavor is not particularly strong. The chalky white interior has a fitting texture and an understated creaminess but it suffers from being a little one-dimensional. The darker and more liquid outer portion of the round is very sharp but mine had hints of ammonia as is so typical for such surface ripened goat cheeses that have made the journey from France to the cheese boards of North America. The rind is pleasant enough but does not add much to the flavor, although the texture variation is a treat. All in all it is a solid goat's milk cheese and the raw milk does differentiate it from the masses of bland American-made goat cheeses but it is not what I'd call one of my favorite goats. The whole flavor never really came together for me and the individual parts alone didn't win me over.

Caution

My not being blown away by the flavor of today's cheese might be the fault of the buyer, and here's why. I do not recall exactly when I tried this particular cheese, and depending on the season the flavor of this cheese varies widely from heaven-on-a-cracker to gross. Not surprisingly winter and spring will bring the former and winter the latter, purchase accordingly. 

Piave Vecchio, Parmigiano Reggiano's Hipster Little Brother

You see, because it's Italian, a cow's milk cheese, tastes similar to Parmigiano but is younger and you've probably never heard of it. 

Again I'm stretching the acceptable boundaries of metaphors, but I'll stand by it. 

This is another cheese coming from the fertile Veneto region of Italy, taking its name from the Piave River Valley in which it's made. Piave Vecchio is flavor-packed and, though it is a pasteurized-milk cheese unlike "King Parm", it is delectable and well worth tracking down. 

Origin: Veneto, Italy

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 12-14 months

Notes: The name is pressed repeatedly into the rind, and if you're looking for a softer and milder version look for Piave with a blue label, I'll stick to the older red label "vecchio" variety.

Thoughts: This cheese, though dry, is surprisingly sweet, so much so that the flavor carries throughout the bite and almost drowns out the nutty savoryness. Almost but not quite. The texture is similar to a younger parmesan and it is about as creamy, and notes of fruit play alongside delightful crunch of the aged paste. This cheese has serious flavor and flavor, texture, and creaminess balance nicely to produce a versatile and potent cheese that's as at home grated over pasta as it is as a table cheese. Italy never ceases to amaze me with the depth and beauty it draws out of cow's milk, and Piave is as good an example as any of just that. 

Caution

If you are reading this blog and some photos seem weird, some texts are jumbled, or something just looks to be generally awry, check with a different browser. I think I may have just out-cheesed the internet on accident.   

Condio, An Unknown Italian Treat

It really is just amazing how many different varieties and sorts of cheeses there are to be tried, and every time I have a moment of weakness and lose faith in there being more cheeses out there to try I take comfort in cheeses like today's. Condio is a cheese I've only encountered at work in Longmont, CO, but if it made it to the middle of the US all the way from Italy then surely it has lots of as-of-yet untasted friends waiting at home. 

The Italians seem to love their mixed milk cheeses, and this time around we get an extra kick from the raw nature of the got and cow's milk used. The rind is a mix of oregano, marjoram, parsley, and sesame, and the combination of these herbs and the rich milk makes for a truly delicious cheese.

Origin: Veneto, Italy

Milk: Cow and Goat, raw

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3 months

Notes: Don't be afraid to try those otherwise unheard of cheeses that sit on the shelves passed over by the typical shopper, after all by purchasing strange cheeses some have purchased truly angelic curd!

Thoughts: Light on the palate, this cheese has undertones of milk and mushrooms, with a nicely sweet overtone. The rind is what really clinches the flavor, however, and the mix of herbs add the perfect rich grassiness to compliment the sweetness of the cheese. The whole tone of the flavor is floral but the mixed milk gives a solid base and a measured creaminess carries throughout. I'd never heard of Condio before finding it on the shelves at Cheese Importers, and indeed it doesn't feature in any of the cheese books (yes, "books" plural. Live hard, cheese hard) I own, but it is well worth asking for and is a great example of the range in flavors possible with cheese. 


Caution
"Live hard, cheese hard" is not actually my catchphrase. I don't think I have a catchphrase.  


PS: There is some very exciting news/tips to be released with an appropriate post later this week, get eager! 

Point Reyes Original, Big Fan

I have already spent much time and ink (or not really ink but energy I suppose) extolling the virtues of the artisanal cheese movement in California and the many exquisite cheeses that come from it. Today's is yet another example of excellent Californian cheeses, this time coming from the Bay Area of San Fransisco. The Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese Company is a powerhouse in the high-quality cheese scene, it's masterpiece the Point Reyes Original blue. 

According to the website, the secret to their recipe is the top notch milk from their Holstein cows, the coastal fog, and the salty sea air. There must be some sort of 4th secret that they're not sharing with us, though, because it really is a killer paste. The cheesemaking process starts only a couple hours after the milking, and from these fresh beginnings the quality is maintained at the highest possible levels. Penicillium Roqueforti, as is used in so many other great Blues, is introduced to give it its lovely veining. This is a American treasure, to be sure, and is as worthy a cheese as has come out of the good old USA. 

Origin: California, USA

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Vegetable

Affinage: 5-6 months

Notes: Looking for a really cool holiday? Go to San Fransisco and make a mini cheese pilgrimage out to the Point Reyes farm, great scenery, hiking, and incredible cheese!

Thoughts: This blue is the full deal. The first taste is creamy with just a hint of the bite to come, but the overall effect is far more complex than just another staple blue. As the flavor develops a rich dark, almost smoky flavor appears and is followed closely by a sharpness that is bold without being harsh.The rich and even veining lacks the sometimes over-salty mineraliness of some European Blues, and while it definitely is less offensive to the tastebuds than a Roquefort or Cabrales it is by no means a lightweight, Point Reyes Original means business. It is very versatile in that it is rich and strong and can stand alone by itself on a cheese platter but is not so overpowering or harsh that it can't be used in recipes, in fact it is a great addition to any salad and a favorite for me alongside steak off the grill. Point Reyes Original Blue is a cheese to be truly proud of, so perhaps this 4th of July go and celebrate (if you're an American, I suppose) with a hearty wedge of this all-American cheese! 

Caution

Not that I condone ultra-nationalism, or any ism for that matter. Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon, "I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me." Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus, I'd still have to go without basic groceries to afford fine cheese.   

Pampered Goat, Canada's Take on Fresh Chevre

One of my all-time favorite varieties of cheese is the delicate, simple, and overall decadent fresh French-style goat's cheese; chevre. It has no rind, it is not aged, it is hardly more than formed curd, but it holds such an incredible flavor and rich goodness that it never ceases to satisfy. Although it is a French creation its heavenly goodness has made it an international hit, both in recipes and as a staple on cheese boards. Verily I say unto you; if you throw a party without one you are doing a great injustice, and if you throw a party with one make sure you get to it fast because it will be the first to disappear. Today's Pampered Goat hails not from the land of silly moustaches and berets but from the land of Ice Hockey, Maple Leaves, and bi-lingual cultural struggles/pseudo-independence movements while still putting the queen on the currency. Ooohhhhhhh Caaaannadaaaaaa. Not bad, and not a drop of [insert Canadian stereotype here].

Origin: Canada (That narrows it down)
Milk: Goat, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affiange: Fresh, yay!
Notes: Very soft and spreadable, moist and delicious, this is a preciously perfectly, piquantly pleasant paste.
Thoughts: Creamy and sweet, milky and rich, this is not a complex cheese, though there are some complex chevres, but it is nonetheless delicious. It comes in large 1lb logs, and whenever I would be unpacking it at the Cheese Importers I'd have the wicked urge just to eat myself silly on fresh goat cheese. It is not the best fresh chevre I've tried but it certainly holds its own and is the ideal base for all sorts of accompaniments, from raisin bread toast to fresh strawberries. I will admit now that, within a certain range, most fresh chevre is more or less equivalent. It will be fresh and delicious, full of flavor and creamy, and reliable. There are loads of sub-par chevres and a handful of above-average exceptions but to a certain extent chevre is chevre. Enjoy it!


Caution
This cheese will literally be spread on anything that can be made to hold still. This includes baguettes, fresh fruit, spoons, fingers.....

P'tit Basque, A Child of the 90s

Haha, youngster.

This is a cheese that was put into production in 1997 by a cheese conglomerate in France, the same folks responsible for the Sorrento and President brands of cheese. Big cheese, man. Big cheese.

Nevertheless they manage to put out some respectable products, one of which being today's P'tit Basque. Supposedly made with traditional methods, questionable given its factory production and scale, it is a sheep's milk cheese that also hails from the Pyrenees of France's southwestern border and also has its own merits despite lacking the approval of the high council of cheese elders.

Origin: The Western Pyrenees, France

Milk: Sheep, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: ~70 days

Notes: Comes in relatively small little cylinders, not unlike Manchego to the West... hmmmmm. 

Thoughts: Fully of oily, sheepy goodness, this cheese is actually very reminiscent of the Spanish Manchego. Relatively light on the palate but not sacrificing in flavor, the mild sweetness of this cheese comes through nicely. Perfectly measured creaminess makes for a good example of how sheep's milk cheeses can be both mild and accessible while still tasting good. Tastes a little... well a little cheap if you will, but then no one would claim to have P'tit Basque challenge the Spanish centerpiece for the crown anyways. One can do much worse, and hey it's French (oooooh, ahhhhhhh).

Caution

This blogger is going to a cheese festival tomorrow so..... yeah. If I'm never heard from again don't both sending search parties out, I'll have thoroughly lost myself amongst the aisles of Käse.   

Doux de Montagne, A Rare Pyrenees Cow Cheese

The shelves at the Cheese Importers of Longmont, Colorado, and indeed any well stocked, well run cheese operation, have so many options from which to choose that I end up standing there paralyzed by indecision, there just being too many good options from which to choose. The well known or rare cheeses are always the first to be chosen, for example one of my first purchases in Europe was Brie de Meaux, but eventually curiosity takes over and the less spoken of cheeses have their day. This was the case with Doux de Montage, a name that refers to the smoothness of the paste and the mountains from which it supposedly originates; a French cheese that may not be a masterpiece but is well worth trying.

Origin: The Western Pyrenees, France

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 2-4 months

Notes: Factory made, no long tradition of excellence, but for all that not half bad. Shamelessly Snackworthy.

Thoughts: Although the flavor holds together nicely, this paste dissolves the instant it hits the tongue. The sweet milky goodness, with the occasional hint of mushroom and fruit, just melts and almost overwhelms with richness. The aftertaste is surprisingly sweet, almost like icing, and while the overall flavor does come off rather artificial and one-dimensional it is by no means bad for the casual snack. 

Caution

There are better cow's milk cheeses to be had both for serious gourmet tastings as well as for the occasional snack, but a little variety never hurt anyone. The spice of life, or?

Garrotxa, Gar-Roach-ah,

It occurred to me that, as a native English speaker and not a native Spanish, Italian, French, Catalan, Basque, Sardinian, Bavarian, German, Norwegian, etc speaker, I very often find myself destroying the proud names of these proud cheeses. This will not do.

Today's cheese exemplifies the difficulties surrounding putting words to a love of cheese, as even within countries the exact origin of a cheese can alter drastically how the name is pronounced. Thank you, Catalan.

Garrotxa is a goat's milk cheese from Catalonia in the northeast of Spain, and fortunately enough it is both pasteurized and delightful, meaning cheese-lovers in the USA and elsewhere have absolutely no excuse not to have it on their table.

Origin: Catalonia, Spain

Milk: Goat, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3 weeks to 3 months

Notes: Yes dear reader your eyes are not deceiving you, this cheese is both pasteurized and great. Rather than look the proverbial gift horse in the proverbial mouth, suffice to say you should hunt it down and partake of a hearty piece. 

Thoughts: The initial flavor of this cheese is typical for mild aged goat cheeses, tangy but muted. The full flavor quickly comes through, though, and proves to be decadently creamy and savory. Even the smallest serving of this cheese carries the full flavor and is sure to please. Notes of floral and clean grassy goodness weave in themselves throughout the taste and make for a truly delicious semi-aged goat's milk cheese. What a good thing!

Caution

If you find yourself one day leisurely enjoying some roasted, salted Spanish almonds, a thin slice of jamón Iberico, and a few flavor-packed chunks of one of these to-die-for Spanish cheeses, here is my advice: take a moment to take account of your life and count your blessings, for surely this must be among them.   

Leyden, Lay-den? Lie-den? Lou-den?

Pro tip: it's not Lou-den.
It may be Lay- or Lie-den. Depending on what time zone you're from.
This is a cheese with not many look-alikes and no taste-alikes, a bold and daring departure from the usual smooth buttery goodness of Gouda that Holland usually puts out; Leyden. Also known as Leidsekaas, it is actually relatively easy to find in the US and is a treat for the tastebuds, a present for the palate, a fastball for the Foliate papillae. That last one didn't make any sense.

Origin: Holland
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: Handful of months
Notes: Not only does this cheese have cheese, it has cumin seeds as well. Cumin seeds. Think ground beef taco seasoning. 
Thoughts: I tried this cheese on a bit of a whim, it was on sale or some such, maybe it was just cheaper than the other cheeses on the shelf, in any case I bought it, brought it home, and got quite a surprise. The cheese itself is creamy, rich, sharp even, but the dominant tone here is from the cumin. I couldn't place the flavor right away, then my friend who was making some sweet tacos at the time hit the ground beef with that fine flavor powder. The smell of... that... filled the air. It was exactly like the flavor in my mouth from the cheese. Turns out the cumin in the cheese gives it a wickedly meaty and savory flavor with notes of spicy and salty floating in and out. Certainly not delicate, certainly not refined, certainly hearty, bold and rugged and D-licious. I've made a vendetta recently against bad cheeses with random spices and such thrown in marketed as good cheeses, but make no mistake. This cheese has flavor, to which is added more flavor. No complaints.


Caution
If you melt it into your next Tex-mex dish you might just have a cumin-flavor-explosion. Flights would be grounded for weeks on account of all the delicious hanging thick in the air. 

Gamalost, Not Even Norwegians Eat This Stuff

Here we are at last at the end of our extended weekend of Norwegian noms, but now I must bring you something that belongs in a horror story, a tale from the crypt, a fearsome fromage that even I would hesitate to try again, much less recommend. If you are so fortunate as to find it somewhere in your travels do by all means purchase some, but don't break the bank: this stuff is just not pleasant and is one of the only cheeses that, I admit it, I threw out after tasting.
That's the warning, and the name is Gamalost, directly translated as Old Cheese. This description is half right, as it's certainly not young. It is a skim milk cheese, containing only some 1% fat per solid content, and while it's supposedly a sort of blue cheese it really is, well, I'll tell you what I think of it.

Origin: Norway
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 4-5 weeks
Notes: Gross
Thoughts: This cheese is an assault on the senses in pretty much every way. In appearance it looks like someone took brown sugar and pressed it into a mold, it is devoid of any identifiable paste and, upon peeling back the plastic wrap, step two of the assault begins. It smells like cheese that’s gone bad, that Camembert you tossed out last week or the Roquefort that is warm and liquidic enough to make into a smoothie. Step three is eating it. It is granular and chewy, lingering in your mouth and asking the question “why?”. The flavor is pretty much like the smell, only lacking that life-saving distance from your tastebuds. It is sharp, very sour, devoid of any creaminess or sweetness, or any of the charm of the more potent blue cheeses. The flavor lingers making the very air in your mouth sickly warm and sour, probably as a reminder to safeguard against a second bite. Chase it with something strong, maybe a single malt.  Caution I do not condone underage drinking. If you're underage or just don't particularly care for the taste of whiskey then... really spicy Mexican food? Shot of Tabasco? Tongue transplant surgery?   

Stølstype, The Penultimate

So yesterday's cheese was perhaps the least of the three whey-based dairy products, but today we have what is, in my mind, the greatest. It is the more traditional style, the name translating roughly into Farm Type, and though the version I was able to find was made by the same factory that produces Ekte Geitost and Gudbrandsdalsost the difference in flavor, and yes even color, is remarkable.

Origin: Norway
Milk: Goat whey, cream, and milk, pasteurized
Rennet: n/a
Affinage: Boiled down into a sweeter and firmer paste than Ekte Geitost. Yay!
Notes: 27% fat, a darker paste than its milder brethren, and an even more pronounced smell spell only one thing: an epic brown cheese.

Thoughts: Burned, caramelly, even the smallest, thinnest peel of this cheese is enough to shock the tastebuds and redefine your idea of what sweet tastes like. So rich and tangy and absurdly sweet is it that it even puts its younger brother Ekte Geitost to shame, Stølstype delivers the creamy smoothness of a triple crème, the tang of a young fresh chevre, the burned complexity of the richest caramel, and the sweetness of the season's ripest fruit. If I could only have one cheese from Norway I would ask for a crate of this and just snack on it until my time on this fractured orb is over, with fresh fruit, with honey, on seed toast, or just rolled up in a ball and popped like popcorn. 

Caution

Beware the staying power of this cheese, the aftertaste lasts longer than the Greek debt crisis. 

Gudbrandsdalsost, The Cheese That was Impossible to Spell

Like yesterday's cheese, this is also a product made from Goat's whey. Strictly speaking a whey-based dairy product, it is different in that it is made from both cow and goat's milk whey. This alters the flavor considerably and also makes it less, well less bizarre. That is, if a cheese that is still brown and made not from curds but whey can be anything less than bizarre.

Origin: Norway
Milk: Cow and Goat whey, milk, and cream, pasteurized
Rennet: N/A
Affinage: Boiled down to a caramelly goodness. 

Notes: This one has 29% fat per solid content, making it the fattiest of the group, but sadly that does not translate into the tastiest. 

Thoughts: This cheese, while certainly delicious, is downright tame compared to Ekte Geitost. From the very beginning the flavor, while sweet, is mild and tastes notably more of cow milk, as results in the lack of that wicked tang so characteristic of goat’s milk and so strong in geitost. As the paste breaks down a more marked sweetness does appear but it remains under control and leaves a rather neutral aftertaste. It is certainly well worth trying and is a great snacking cheese, especially for those who aren’t looking for a sweet-tooth overload. Slight milky tones and a relatively light presence.

Caution

'The Sound of Music' lasts for 3 hours. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

Ekte Geitost, Even Better Than it Sounds

This weekend we have reason to celebrate, as I am once again on travels. Why celebrate, you ask dear reader? This short leave of absence means a specially themed weekend, yay! And what better way to fill up a weekend than with The Sound of Music? Also Norwegian cheese. Mostly Norwegian cheese.
So. Today begins a special one-time-only 4 day Norwegian cheese special. We'll celebrate the magic they work with goat's milk whey and the strange, at times very unpleasant, results.
Today is the first of the series, and so we begin with the the standard, the money maker, the brown cheese that choosy brown cheese lovers choose. 
And what better name for a good, honest, Norwegian cheese; Ekte Geitost. It falls into the category of whey-based dairy product and is hugely popular among the good people of Scandinavia, and for good reason too. Made by taking the leftover whey, adding milk and cream and boiling under carefully controlled conditions until the mixture caramelizes, these cheeses are a serious departure from anything that might commonly be called "cheese". The first time I tried one it was at my old favorite haunt; the Cheese Plate of Warren, RI. The Founder and then-owner, everyone's favorite; Bob, brought out a few slices for myself and my friends as a post-dinner treat, and what a treat it was. Sweet, tangy, rich, and caramelly, like a fine fudge, Ekte Geitost and its relatives are truly delicious and well worth trying. Trying and loving.

Origin: Norway
Milk: Goat whey, milk, and cream, pasteurized
Rennet: not applicable
Affinage: Not aged, just delicious from the start
Notes: We start with this one because it is the best and most easily found, a standard against which the others may be measured. In my mind it is one of the better, which I attribute to its being made with only goat's milk. The next two are made with altered recipes, and the difference in flavor is palatable. But actually. 

Thoughts: This cheese starts sweet, grows sweeter and finishes sweet too. It’s pretty much like a Disney movie minus the dead parents. When the initial sweet has set in a head-turning tang kicks in along with even more sweet until the sweet sweet sweet sweet. The chewy, caramelly texture really does give you the impression you’re eating dessert, like you want this melted over your next scoop of vanilla ice cream or a ribbon of it around a crème br ûlée. There are only a handful of cheeses that are so rich that you have to be careful how much you eat, but Ekte Geitost may take the cake. It is the Imperial oak-aged Stout, the double…..thick milkshake, the double dark chocolate brownies with bittersweet chocolate chips baked in and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. Talk about cheeses you would be hard pressed to eat a 100g of, just writing this review might be the straw that pushes my cholesterol over the edge.

Caution

Tomorrow we have something worse, but then Sunday it's redeemed with something better. Then Monday there's something... something else all together.   

Sage Derby, Or As I Was Saying

Right, so I went on for a little while in the last post about the evils of sub-par or forgettable cheeses with some infused flavor passing off as worthwhile standalone cheeses. Same story, different day. Again, today's cheese isn't even necessarily bad, it will add color to the plate, it will attract attention, it will peak interest, but novelty factor alone does not earn one a place in the Favorite Club. 
Originally made just around Christmas time, Sage Derby is one of the older infusion cheeses to come from England, where the digestive properties and festive look of the green sage made it a hit on holiday tables. Plain derby is not as commonly found outside England, which works fine with me as it's effectively just a younger, milder, buttery-er cheddar.... and who among us wasn't thinking "gee this mild cheddar is just too sharp, it sure could use a little less flavor and a slightly heavier presence on the palate."
Apparently I'm biased, go figure. Macerated sage leaves, sage leaf essence, green food coloring, or a mixture of these are used to create either a uniformly green paste such as the one pictured below or a more marbled look similar to the Porter Cheddar but in light green. Adding color and things to a forgettable cheese is like adding racing decals, spoilers, and louder exhausts to beater cars.... if you start with rubbish you're going to end with rubbish.

Origin: England
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Vegetable
Affinage: 3-4 months
Notes: I come across as pretty one-sided when it comes to English cheese, but there are some seriously incredible creations to be found. There's also a lot that's just not worth buying twice.
Thoughts: The sage flavor in this cheese, grassy and tingly as if a little minty, overpowers any flavor the Derby might have had, though we'll never know now. The creaminess and the texture of the cheese do come through, though all they really convey is the novelty flavor and no real depth or character of flavor. All this being said it's a huge hit among those looking for a new snacking cheese as well as small children. The issue I take here is that there are so many cheeses, mostly sheep's milk cheeses but also from cow and definitely from goat's milk, that have a natural grassy and green flavor to them with all the depth and character you could want, just as a result of being carefully and traditionally made from top quality milk. Just saying.



Caution
Dear UK readers; I'd love to sit down and share in some Port and Stilton with you as we discuss the virtues of your cheeses, for there are many. Please don't be cross, I don't spare other countries when they make bad cheeses either. The USA especially.

Barely Buzzed, Not Actually a Reference to Alcohol

Every now and then you hear about a cheese that sounds, well, gimmicky. Like a little too much work went into the concept phase and not enough into the actual making of the cheese itself. I would say that this trend, especially as it applied to Cheddars such as today's piece, began with the adding of all manner of spices and other sundry bits to what's basically an English Cheddar and calling it things like Cotswold. Don't get me wrong, Cotswold is great stuff and one of the tastier snacking cheeses out there, but many of these cheeses, especially from her Majesty's territories, suffer from being too much added nonsense and not enough good honest cheese to start out with. This will not do.
With that foreboding introduction let us look at Barely Buzzed, a Cheddar from interior of the US that incorporates ingredients from as far away as Turkey and France. I think. It is made in Utah and rubbed down with a mixture of Turkish coffee grounds and French lavender buds, giving this otherwise normal recipe cheddar a whole new spin. But is it good?

Origin: Utah, USA

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Vegetable

Affinage: It's a young cheddar, in the 6 month range I'd say.

Notes: Aged on Utah Blue Spruce aging racks. When I get around to making and aging cheese I'm going to either age it on something really pretentious or really ridiculous, not sure which yet. I'm thinking either boards ripped loose from the ballroom floor of the Titanic or Legos.

Thoughts: Not surprisingly, the flavor the coffee and the lavender gives the flavor of the cheddar a run for its money. The cheddar, by itself not particularly strong or sharp, comes through only just barely alongside the thick coating of espresso and lavender. The taste is unlike anything else and almost belongs to a different category altogether, but is savory and peculiar enough to keep you coming back. My complaint here is that there just isn't a whole lot going on flavor-wise to catch my interest apart from the obvious coating, which is never going to be enough to prop up a cheese by itself. Give me a strong or memorable flavored cheddar and then coat it with this or that or the other but not before. It is a great party piece, it is an interesting excercise in flavor combination possibilities within a single cheese, it is not even a bad cheese, it's just so much less than it could be. 

Caution

If something seems too good to be true, it just may be. The Prince from Nigeria only wants your money, you're not actually the 1,000,000th visitor to the site, your friends on Facebook did not actually get a free iPad 2 just for completing a survey, and not all that sounds funky on a cheese label is gold. 

I feel like that one got away from me at the end there...  

Mozzarella di Bufala Campagna, The Good Stuff

Mozzarella as I first knew it was "the pizza cheese", that stuff you bought pre-shredded in little plastic bags and dumped out on top of home made pizzas. There was probably even a helpful pizza recipe on the back of each bag, just in case the dough+sauce+cheese+toppings concept was a little hard to get a handle on. Later I would be a little unsettled to hear tell of this fresh mozzarella stuff, floating as it were in a sea of translucent cheese water in olive bars and fresh food sections of delis. I feel like the education system of the US let me down.
Good, fresh Mozzarella is, of course, one of the simplest joys in the cheese world; a real glimpse of how alive, dynamic, and close to nature cheese is. It's so young and fresh that eating it is often like chewing on a richer milk, and all that weird water in and around fresh Mozzarella is whey that is still trapped in the curd and trying to get out. That fresh. Don't be scared of the whey, it guarantees that the Mozzarella you get is in the best possible condition for your enjoyment. This is a good thing.
Mozzarella is a member of a special group of cheeses (ok, so really most all cheeses are special); the pulled curd cheeses. This describes the process through which Mozzarella is made, and a labor intensive process it is. The curd is first cut into strips and passed through a machine called a chittara (guitar) that uses wires to cut the curd into small pieces. These pieces are placed into nearly boiling water to force whey out, at which point the curds are pulled, twisted, and knotted by hand until the master cheesemaker deems the batch to be done, a measure of skill that must be learned but cannot simply be taught.  Once properly pulled, individual pieces are torn off (from the Italian verb mozzare), shaped,  and immersed either in cold water or brine depending on the desired shelf life, finishing the whole ordeal and producing what fresh cheese lovers worldwide so adore. Other members of the pulled curd group include Provolone, Scamorza, and string cheeses.
But there's more. Before the cow herds of the world took over the cheese scene Mozzarella was made exclusively with the fattier, richer, and overall simply decadent milk of the water buffalo. Mozzarella di Bufala Campagna is that cheese, reviving the centuries-old tradition and now protected by Italian law. Yay! This is truly the best Mozzarella that you can find, outside of making friends with an artisanal Mozzarella maker and buying it fresh and still warm from being made minutes before. Even when that is an option, seek out Mozzarella di Bufala Campagna and enjoy a taste of something ever so much more so than any Mozzarella you've had before.

Origin: Campagna, Italy
Milk: Buffalo, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: Fresh cheese!!
Notes: There are some other buffalo cheeses out there, if you happen across one try it out; the flavor is a refreshing departure from cow's milk and should lend a real depth to any type of cheese.

Thoughts: This Mozzarella packs quite a punch. A meaty sweetness starts off the flavor and it only develops over the course of the bite. A cleaner sweetness builds up and lingers on the palate, and a very rich milkiness and a beautiful texture really round out the flavor. Such a young cheese does have a rather simple and understandably clean character to it, but in it's simplicity it excels. Just the slightest hint of depth is what sets this Mozzarella apart from its cow-made brethren, and you would do well to find some and eat it as soon as possible; it will never be as good as it was yesterday. Mozzarella di Bufala Campagna stands head and shoulders above the typical store bought garbage and will bring cheese lovers to their knees, whether it's eaten with tomatoes and such or just as it is; a slice of pure cheese pleasure. 

Caution

It's bad form to eat this stuff like one would and apple. No matter how tempting and delicious that might be. Not that I would know.

Grating Cheeses

Time to play know your grating cheeses. Excited? Me too!
The standard go-too cheese is today's showcase; Parmigiano Reggiano, but for the poor college student such as myself there are times when substitutes must be made. Fortunately for me and everyone else watching what they spend there are some suitable substitutes that, while they fall short of the reign of Parmigiano, are certainly good and come at a considerably more reasonable price.
The first two are also from Italy and are usually just as easy to find as Parmigiano, delivering a good deal of flavor for about half the price. Grana Padano is actually made in some of the same regions as

the "king" but is not controlled by Italian law and is never aged as long, resulting in a flavor that can resemble Parmigiano when grated onto pasta and for getting a sharper, saltier flavor in dishes, but without the depth of flavor of it's more distinguished cousin.
Next to that we have a bit of a departure, Pecorino Romano. This, as the name implies, is a sheep's milk cheese from southern Italy. Salty, sour, and sharp as all get out, it'll meet your flavor intensity requirements for sure. And then some. The flavor profile is, of course, fundamentally different than Parmigiano due to its coming from a sheep and not a cow but it grates beautifully onto pasta and will sharpen up any dish you prepare with it.  It will definitely be cheaper than Parmigiano and but has a flavor all its own to stand on.
Departing slightly from the realm of traditional pasta cheeses we come to a few outliers that the bold of spirit and palate can pursue, far from the fair pastures of Italy. Gouda, when aged past the year and a half or two year mark, has a texture, crumble, and sharp saltiness of its own, and as it turns out is just delicious as an eating cheese as grated onto pasta for a slightly sweeter garnish. Dry Jack too, in its age and wisdom, has such a rich and strong flavor that it will retain its intensity even when grated into tiny pieces over pasta or shaved thin and paired with fruit. The winner of the odd grating cheese game, though, comes from Switzerland. Sapsago, a cheese which I have admittedly not yet tried, is a fat-free novelty cheese that has a pale-green color and apparently is grated over hot noodles to add a sharp, herby flavor. Go figure. The point is you can and should be able to add some cheese to your next pasta dish without breaking the bank, so while Parmigiano will always reign supreme there's no shame in trying one of these other grating cheeses and expanding your mind.

Parmigiano Reggiano, Not Just for Pasta Anymore

Sometimes there's a cheese, and I won't say the "best cheese" cause what's a "best cheese", but sometimes there's a cheese, and I'm talking about Parmigiano Reggiano here. Sometimes there's a cheese, well it's the cheese for its time and place. It fits right in there. And that's Parmigiano Reggiano, all over your plate. But I've done introduced it enough.
Whether the name is familiar or not, and it should be, Parmigiano is simultaneously one of the most widely known and available and most widely copied/imitated cheeses in this fair world. The copy here being the more North-America friendly Parmesan, as you might find pre-grated and ready to dump on top of some pasta. Now I grew up on the above-linked stuff but let there be no mistake: the cheese that I piled high on my spa-geht is not Parmigiano, it's an American-made analog that uses pasteurized milk and a different recipe and is not actually very good except for, well, piled on pasta where the flavor is an additive and not a standalone.
True Parmigiano Reggiano, on the other hand, is another name/area controlled cheese from Italy, where it must be made in a tightly controlled zone and only between the April 15th and November 11th to ensure the freshest pastures. Aged at least 14 months but up to 5 years and coming in massive, authenticity-stamped 66lb (33kg) wheels, it's a cheese to celebrate.

Origin: Top Secret Locations, Italy
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 14 months and up
Notes: Made from skimmed milk, 28-32% fat content, low sodium cheese as the curd is not actually salted during the process, this is a cheese that is made very very carefully and tastes very very delicious.
Thoughts: I never really considered Parmesan or Parmigiano to be a cheese for eating any other way than how I knew it growing up, on pasta. Turns out, though, that when you get at the good stuff the flavor possibilities are mind-boggling. You see, Parmigiano Reggiano is one of those few pure flavors, one of those preciously intense flavors where the smallest sample of the good stuff is enough to bring the house down. A good balsamic vinegar is similar, or perhaps a piece of that 78% cocoa chocolate. Not surprisingly these are some of the best flavors.... ever.
Parmigiano is a dry grating cheese but will simultaneously melt on the palate nearly instantaneously, and hints of not just the salty tang that dominates commercial Parmesan but also nutty, a mild sweetness as it breaks down on the palate, and of course a creaminess that carries throughout and ties all the notes together. It is divine when paired simplistically, a little honey, or a little balsamic reduction, a little extra virgin olive oil to draw the aroma out or a thinly shaved piece with a freshly sliced crisp pear. These are some of the simple pleasures of life.


Caution
If you start referring to fairly expensive aged imported Italian cheese alongside fresh and equally decadent ingredients like Balsamic vinegar de Moderno reductions as simple pleasures you've either 
1) got the priorities of a cheese addict or
2) are bourgeois swine. With really good taste.

Roquefort Papillon, The French Blue

Right, so finally here we are.
All this time you've been waiting, dear reader, for this moment.
The moment. The moment when I finally actually blog about a cheese that I refer to in previous posts. It seems like just yesterday I was writing about Rouge River  Blue, that dearest to my heart of Blue cheeses, but we've come a long way from Oregon.
All the way to France, in fact, and today's cheese truly embodies French cheese as much as Brie, Camembert, or anything else. It is the king of French Blue cheeses, it is the envy of stinky cheesemakers worldwide, it is the monarch of mold and the sultan of sharp, spicy and salty. It is Roquefort, this one made by the Pappillion brand. It's for real. Check it out.

Origin: Rouergue, France
Milk: Sheep, unpasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 3 months and more

Notes: Uses Peniccillium roqueforti, a fungus gathered especially and since the beginning of recorded time from rye bread baked locally for this precise purpose. That same mold that makes your Roquefort today has been around For. Ev. Er. 

Thoughts: This blue cheese has a deceptive flavor, while it is minerally it is also surprisingly sweet. It is incredibly soft and has just a little bit of a crunch, just salty enough to showcase the bizarre sweetness. A bold creaminess and a pleasant aftertaste make for a deliciously unique blue cheese. The flavor truly is intense but, in this precise example from this precise brand, the balance is such that I don't just feel like like one tiny bite is enough, the flavors are matched so well with the creaminess that you keep wanting more. 

Caution

In one of my many illustrious and fabled trips through Europe (one time when I was shopping at my favorite cheese store here in Germany) I happened upon a wheel of Roquefort Superior, an extra-aged 9 month version. Blue cheese nirvana, full stop.    

Billie's Goat Cheddar, Another Too-Cute Goat Cheese

England is mostly known for its heavy cow cheeses, mixed perhaps with spices or onion or some sort of alcohol, and while this can be very good it also gets a little... a little too monotonous for me. Enter Ford Farm, the folks who brought us the Coastal Cheddar of a couple weeks ago, and today a nice departure from the bovine; their goat's milk Billie's Goat Cheddar.
Made with the same quality control measures and attention to classic English cheddaring technique as their more traditional offerings, this goat cheddar is refreshing and, though young and thus mild, very tasty indeed.

Origin: England
Milk: Goat, pasteurized
Rennet: Vegetable
Affinage: 2-5 months
Notes: Website advertises a mild, mellow, and smooth flavor derived from 100% pure goat's milk. Good thing they fished those twigs, leaves, and other impurities out of the milk before making cheese. I wonder if they sometimes get a little laugh by slipping some cow milk in there and pulling a fast one over on us customers thinking we're purchasing a goat's milk cheese when the name is Billie's Goat Cheddar. 

Thoughts: Although the flavor is certainly more mild than I usually go for in goat cheeses, this cheddar displays some of the complexity possible in a goat cheese. At first a little meaty, the creaminess of this relatively soft cheese comes in midway through the bite and leaves in its wake the delightful sweetness of goat’s milk. A very un-goaty goat cheese that leaves more of the sweet on the palate than the savory, it certainly is smooth, mild, and mellow. Once could go much worse in purchasing mild-aged goat cheeses, Billie's Goat is an example of mild done right. With some fig jam or a fruity red wine it's truly a delight. 

Caution

I do not actually think the professionals at Ford Farm are in the business of hoodwinking, bamboozling, or hornswoggling their customers, I just find the proud profession that their goat's milk cheese is made with none other than goat's milk to be kind of like bottled water having an ingredients list.   

Mimolette, "That Orange Cheese"

Everyone knows that cheese has a color, yellow/orange, and of course is pocketed with large holes, like something Tom might use to trap Jerry (give it 35 seconds).
This, of course, is utter and complete nonsense, yet I'm always amazed when people are distrustful of cheeses that are white, especially Cheddars. 9 out of 10 times that coloring is annatto, something that doesn't actually alter the flavor of cheese in any substantial way and certainly isn't needed to make a good cheese. As for those classic holes in cheese, well that's also not universally true but who am I to argue with Mr. Hanna and Mr. Barbera.
Today's cheese is from France, but as I mentioned in an earlier post it's actually more similar to a Dutch cheese than to anything in France. It also has a fun little secret, it is (at one point in its production) infested with mites! Mm-mm! During the aging process they eat their way through the forming rind, allowing airflow and aging deeper into the cheese. They've skipped town by the time you buy in in the store, but hey The More You Know.

Origin: North France
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 2 months - 2 years
Notes: I purchased a Jeune or young version but word on the street is that the real quality pieces are aged for at least a year, when they start to come rather into their own.
Thoughts: So here we have a cheese that most everyone knows at least by sight if not by name, carrying with it all the respect associated with French Cheese and promising by all accounts to be a unique and delightful experience. What you get, while certainly not bad, is none of these things. The flavor is very similar to an aged cheddar, but not a particularly sharp one. It has a sweet nuttiness to it that is pleasant enough and won't send the children running for their string-cheese but is also, at the end of the day, very one-dimensional and uninspiring. This tone, which truly dominates what little complexity there is to the flavor, starts from the very beginning strong and overbearing and lasts as such on through to the end. It would make a fine cheddar, if I may be so bold as to say that and hopefully not insult either the French nor the English, but not a great one. The paste is rather waxy and not entirely pleasingly so, and overall the experience is neither unique nor very French.


Caution
Haters gonna hate.   

Fourme d'Ambert, The Other French Blue

I realize that I've not yet given the fair readers of this blog a review of The French Blue, that being of course Roquefort, but this will soon be rectified. For now, something completely different:
Fourme d'Ambert is made in the Auvergne region of France, home to such other greats as Cantal, Salers, and Saint Nectaire, and the quality of the milk present in those classics is equally strong in this ancient-of-days blue. Dating back to even before the English were crafting wheels of their own Blue claim to fame, Stilton, Fourme d'Ambert has a strong and balanced flavor that I just can't get enough of. Alternatively it's a cheese of which I just can't get enough.

Origin: Auvergne, France
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized
Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 1-4 months

Notes: There is a large of industrial production of Fourme d'Ambert that used pasteurized milk, so seek it out in the States, but I was fortunate enough to find an unpasteurized artisanal AOP version. It really is the little things in life.

Thoughts:  Far from the salty spicy burn of Roquefort, this French blue is a creamy but fully developed masterpiece. The rich veining  provides for a noted and perfectly measured kick that appears alongside just enough of a burn to give it complexity, but both are kept constantly in check by the really impressive milky smoothness of the paste. It somehow splits the middle between the ferocious blues Roquefort and Cabrales and the tame, if perfectly delicious, Gorgonzola Dolces of the world. Rustic and hearty in a comforting way that not many Blues can pull off, the nuanced, raw, pale paste, generous veining, and rich creaminess make for a blue cheese that I'd give to blue cheese snob and novice alike, eat any time of the day, and still never get tired of. 

Caution

I realize, looking into the brief but busy archive of this blog, that there's quite a few more French cheeses on file than others. I've always said I'm not partial to cheese from any particular country, but you can't fight a tidal wave: they've just got some incredible curd.