Stella Aged Asiago, The Everyday Asiago

Not that I'd personally eat it everyday, just that I'd also not save it for the special occasions. This post seems especially fitting as big names like Subway are starting to advertise things such as their Asiago Caesar Chicken Wrap in part to play off the elite, interesting, or simply fancy sounding name of the cheese, when in fact what's on the sandwich is certainly not from Italy and probably a couple grades lower than what I've got for you today.

Stella Aged Asiago is pretty well described by the name, everyone knows the powerhouse Stella brand hailing from the the proud pastures of Wisconsin, and this is simply their "aged" take on the Italian classic Asiago. To be honest one could do a lot worse.

Origin: Wisconsin, USA

Milk: Cow, pasteurized 

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 12 months

Notes: 32% fat content

Thoughts: I am always a little skeptical of companies that laud their pre-shredded products on this sort of scale, as it betrays a move from quality and freshness to quick-fixes and commercial solutions. Not to say I won't sprinkle some four cheese blend on my nachos every now and then, but if I want to add the flavor of the classic Italian grating cheeses to pastas or other dishes you'd better believe it's being shaved off the block and directly onto the plate, no time to sit around in a plastic tub and loose its vim and vigor. 

That. Being Said.

Stella makes some very good cheese and the aged Asiago is one of them. Crumbly and yet creamy with just a tinge of salt, the high fat content of this cheese really comes out in its rich flavor. It borders on one-dimensional, however, and lacks enough of that characteristic “crunch” of aged Italian cheeses to keep it off the fancy platter at cheese parties. It makes no claims of being a farmstead or artisan cheese, though while that fact is apparent in the flavor it is still good for a commercial cheese and is certainly a cheese Wisconsin can be proud of.

Und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind

Dann leben sie noch heute  

Bianco Sardo, Life's Tough in the Med

Except not really, as this lovely addition from Italy shows. Made in southern Italy proverbially right between the proverbial heel and the proverbial toe of the proverbial boot, Bianco Sardo is a sheep's milk cheese not to be missed. It is also known as Canestrato for the texture on the rind, imparted by the baskets traditionally used to mold the curd. The reed baskets also impart their own flavor and help shape today's cheese into a real treat. How could life ever be difficult when such a cheese exists?

Origin: Basilicata, Italy

Milk: Sheep, raw

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: My Italian is a little rusty so I couldn't quite make out the exact affinage, but given that it's a hard cheese I'd place it in the 5-7 month range.

Notes: The sheep that help produce this cheese graze exclusively on the Apulian fields of the region, locking down its unique flavor profile. 

Thoughts: Characteristically Italian, with the expected oiliness of sheep’s cheese. The interior is a lovely dry but creamy paste that breaks down nicely on the palate and unfolds into a complex, if a little heavy, taste. It has a saltiness reminiscent of Pecorino Romano but without the intense sourness, instead earthy and minerally tones play off of a understated creaminess for a truly savory and delicious cheese.

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Ca Ru Blu, Every Time I Think I'm Out the Pull Me Back In

I stumbled upon this blue in a local cheese store in Regensburg, and on the off chance I hit upon gold. Gold, Jerry!

I couldn't track down too too much info on this particular cheese but here's what you need to know. It's delicious and you should track it down. Track it right down and eat it. Ladies, Gentlemen, and all People of the Internet; Ca Ru Blú.

Origin: Italy

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3-5 months

Notes: This blue, already a delicious bite, comes standard with a wicked rind. That mouth-watering covering you see in the picture here is a mixture of rum and roasted coffee beans. It is a specialty of the Südtirol Provence, and I can see why.

Thoughts: The bold appearance of this cheese is what first tips you off to the impressive flavor. The intense rind dares you to give it a try, and what begins as a fully creamy texture and flavor quickly builds into something more. The minerality of this blue is perfectly balanced to deliver a sharp and power flavor with a bite at the end but no unpleasant aftertaste or grit. Eaten with or without the rind this blue is both complex and powerful, a delight.

A Note To My Dear Readers

As of the posting of today's cheese I am recently back at school, in class and so forth. I'll be keeping the posts up as much as possible but I beg your understanding and patience if there's a slip-up or so. Do not fear, however, the cheese will flow.  

Gorgonzola Piccante, Dolce's Scary Big Brother

In the world of cheese families, you know the one, the general rule of thumb is that the older brother is always the jerk. While little brother is sweet and non-confrontational, older brother is fiery and rude. Little brother bakes cookies. Big brother eats them and replaces them with coal. Little brother buys a puppy. Big brother puts one of those collar-biscuit contraptions on it so it runs away but can never quite reach the biscuit. Little brother is aged 3-5 months, big brother is aged around 6 months and is a jerk. A tasty tasty jerk. 

And.... hold on.

Sorry, I got lost in there somewhere, today's cheese is Gorgonzola Piccante. 

Origin: Lombardy, Italy

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 6-8 months

Notes: All the same lovely stats as the more easily palatable "dolce" version, but aged to a prickly sharpness. Also known as Gorgonzola "naturale" depending on who is labeling it.

Thoughts: Usually a very fine, almost gritty, texture and very sharp flavor would be very dissagreable but this Gorgonzola breaks the rule. Even in the thick of the sharpness it remains smooth enough to be not just palatable but delicious. The strong aftertaste makes for a good complete package, but on the whole I still prefer the "dolce" version. The piccante certainly has a more intense flavor, but I find that the dolce is much more rounded and generally more decadent. Unfortunately it's no Roquefort nor Stilton, and the sharpness comes across as lacking some of the soul of the dolce. Check it out to get that perspective on how cheeses age, but for me dolce will always be the best. 

Just To Set The Record Straight 

The middle child/cheese is always way cool and everyone likes him. Or her. Or it, in the case of cheese.  

Bleu d'Auvergne, Forever in Roquefort's Shadow

There are a lot of scary blue cheeses coming out of France, but while Roquefort might get all the press it doesn't mean the prospective cheese-fanatic should let his or her guard down. Sneaking there among the reeds is today's cheese, a blue with an attitude.
Bleu d'Auvergne is one of those lovely cheese that explains itself in its name, but only because they didn't want to name it "bleu d'Auvergne 50% fat raw milk"... just not as much of a ring to it I suppose. In any case it's a solid blue and not one to be trifled with, a lovely addition to the blues of this blog.

Origin: Auvergne, France
Milk: Cow, raw
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: Minimum  60 days
Notes: Uses the same bacteria as Roquefort and is also area controlled, the French just love their blue cheeses. Dating back to 1854 and produced in a region with volcanic and granite ground, lending to the spicy flavor.
Thoughts: The salty, spicy burn starts early in this blue cheese and sticks around long into the aftertaste. It is not exactly one-dimensional, but there is definitely a dominant tone. The cheese itself is shrouded and there isn't much creamy or smooth, thanks in part to the generous and even veining. The raw milk does make its presence known but the nuance usually associated with raw milk is somewhat lost in the cruel/sweet burn known better as "blue". It looks beautiful, smells beautiful, and when you need a cheese to clear out the sinuses it works beautifully as well.

Everybody's Got Something to Hide
Except for me and my monkey. 

Midnight Moon, Out Of This World

It is that time again, when I make terrible puns in the title and am too tired to go back and filter them out.

Actually, it's the time when I get to review a cheese that comes from one of my favorite creameries; Cypress Grove. I've already broke the news about their exquisite creamline through the lamb Gouda Lamb Chopper, and today we have a cheese that is, in my mind, even better.

Midnight Moon was first shown to me by a fellow cheese lover at a cheese party in Boulder, but little did I know that it was in fact crafted with love an ocean away in Holland. It is one of my all time favorite cheeses, indeed one of the best goat cheeses ever, an assessment I would defend to the bitter end. 

Origin: Netherlands

Milk: Goat, pasteurized

Rennet: Vegetable

Affinage: Somewhere between 4 and 7 months, the folks at the dairy weren't too keen to share their secrets.

Notes: They import this stuff as fast as it's made, but it still can't keep up with demand. That. Good.

Thoughts: There is not enough to be said about this cheese. The flavor starts off pretty mild but quickly propels itself to a very meaty very nutty delight. The cheese is firm but incredibly creamy, and there are the little crunches that are so great. The flavor of the goat cheese is there from the start and grows and grows as the cheese breaks down in your mouth into tangy perfection and the meaty tones come though like a symphony of flavored delight. Everything about this cheese works and the aftertaste leaves you dying for more, just an incredible goat cheese. If I could keep a wheel of this on hand it would never be far from my plate. 

Random Thought to Further Burden You With

I might just buy a wheel of this, just to never have to rely on timely import shipments again. If I do, you know where the party is: Casa de Functioning Cheese Addict  

Reblochon, Per Request and Because It's Delicious

Allow me to apologize, dear reader, for the otherwise unforgivable failure of posting consistency. Just like that famous Beatles song, I'm Back in the USSA. Or something like that. I don't know. 

Between the 6 hour time difference, the prevalence of American English being spoken all of a sudden, the relatively massive cars and the noted lack of oversalted food here, you'd think I was in a different country or something. This is all a round about way of saying I've finally made the trip back to the USA, and am currently in a state of limbo of sorts; stranded between university life in Germany and university life in Colorado. For an exchange student who hasn't been home in a year, that state of limbo looks like hurried plans to meet up with everyone ever, trying to do a million (no joke, one million) administrative things, and generally wanting to eat when others want to sleep, sleep when they want to eat, etc. Also always wanting to say the German words/grammar instead of the English, despite the fact that no one around you now speaks German. 

Moral of the story; boo hoo my life is so tough that you should all take pity on me and forgive the late post. Which goes as follows.

In honor of the continent I have so recently left, today I bring you a cheese that you can only find there. Or rather, one that you should only really look for there. It is, you guessed it, a French brie style cheese called Reblochon. That ruh-bloe-SHAW to all of you not gifted in French. It translates roughly into "to milk again", but can also mean "to steal, swipe". You see back in the day tax was based on how much a milkman milked. So to save a few ducats the clever dairy man could not fully milk the cows, pay the tax, and then milk the cows again. This second milking, a richer and creamier milking, would then go on to become Reblochon, a cheese known and loved throughout France. Made my the wives (tradition insists it is a woman's product) for the family, it is a staple French cheese and an absolute gift for the outsider fortunate enough to try it. 

Origin: Haute-Savoie, France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: ~6 weeks

Notes: Will melt all over anything as it comes to room temperature. For best results bring to room temperature over a baguette and then enjoy a hassle-free taste of cheese decadence. Finger food for the fortunate. 45% fat, AOC, uncooked, pressed, washed with whey during the aging process.

Thoughts: A very chewy and minerally rind , so thick as to almost constitute a sandwich, is the first impression of this cheese which, though it smells like those 4 week old leftovers, taste mild and very pleasant. Smooth as could be and so light on the palate one could forget it’s there, the paste of this cheese is the most reserved and subtle of pleasures. Garlic, mushroom, salt, nuts, more garlic, and a clean grassy aftertaste to die for play off the palate in a delicate symphony. I usually insist on eating the rind whenever I enjoy such a cheese but in this case it completely covers up the beauty of the paste with its thick, chewy heaviness. Hints of tart from the raw milk show up here and there and the flavor flows dynamically from start to finish, an absolute delight. 

Random Thought to Burden You Further With

If I seem cranky from now on, don't worry. Normal behavior for those leaving a land of unpasteurized cheese.   

Gorgonzola Dolce, As Great an Italian Masterpiece as Ever There Was

In posts past I've made quite a fuss about the glory that is real-deal Gorgonzola, and finally today I will fill you in, dear reader, on just how delicious it is. 

This is the cheese your grandparents told you about, the one from the old country that is filled with both a magical presence and yet a completely approachable humble honesty. It is not as brash nor as pretentious as the self-proclaimed Kings of blue from England or France, it simply packs a lifetime of incredible flavor, centuries of hard work and refinement, into an accessible and delicious paste. 

From the region of Lombardy, this cheese and it's close cousin Stracchino are both made from milk gathered during the cows' seasonal migrations during spring and fall. This tired, or "stracca" milk creates two major varieties of cheese, both Gorgonzola Dolce and it's older brother Gorgonzola Piccante (or Naturale, etc). The older version is a markedly different cheese, and I'll get to it soon enough. For now, the masterpiece that is Gorgonzola Dolce:

Origin: Lombardy, Italy

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3-5 Months

Notes: Pierced with needles to allow the Penicillium Roqueforti to flourish, rind washed in brine during curing process. Made with two milkings one after another, high butterfat content. These are all good things, these are all things we like. 

Thoughts:  To start out there are very few cheeses that smell this good. When allowed to come to room temperature the sweet and tingly smell of cheese, spices, and even fruit fills the air with an aroma that by itself is mouthwatering. The flavor is no letdown. Sweet and lush with a present but unobtrusive kick weaving in and out, it is a thing of beauty. The paste, thanks to the young age and the rind washing, is so soft it begs to be spread and protests any other methods by sticking onto whatever you throw at it. The salty tones beneath the whole experience only heighten your awareness of just how full the creaminess is and give the spice of the mold a chance to shine as well. The thin rind along with the already decadent texture round out an experience that is so good you should be careful how much you bring to room temperature at a time; you will eat every last bit in one sitting. It is, for all intents and purposes, a different cheese category altogether than Roquefort or Stilton, any comparison would be for nothing because Gorgonzola just hits a different part of the palate. Good grief that’s delicious.  

Random Thought to Burden You Further With

I hope to fix the regularity of these posts and at the very least keep overall quota of posts met, but there is nothing like being in country for the first time in a year to make you forget what free time looks like. There's my story and I'm sticking to it. And now back to your regular programming

>>Silly cheese-related joke<<  

 

Soreda Cone, Chevre With Some Stuff

No, that's not just a flippant title, it's about what these cheeses come down to.
Produced in the Perigord region of France and shipped to destinations across the world post haste, it is little wonder that the delicacy of the chevre does not quite make the trip. Soreda Cones, for there are a number of different varieties including plain, ash, and paprika, are sold in the US with rather sad looking paper "leaves" and the whole ordeal, for me at least, was a considerable letdown. They look stunning, they promise to be stunning, you so very much want them to be stunning. Then they aren't.

Origin: Perigord, France
Milk: Goat, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: Fresh, save for the flight over
Notes: Comes with some free stuff. I do, however, enjoy having to peel back paper leaves in order to get to my cheese and finding the artistically sprinkled ash sticking to said paper.
Thoughts: Right so for all of my, well, "hating" to use the parlance of our times, what fails this cheese the most is not even that it has a terrible flavor. It's that it claims and presumes to be something great and desirable and then upon first inspection it just falls flat. What should be simply bursting at the seams with flavor turns out to leave you wanting across the board, a disappointment really. Sure it's smooth, creamy, and has a hint of sweet in the aftertaste, but we're not in the little leagues here, especially not dressed up like it is. It is not a particularly "goaty" smelling cheese, so the unfortunate surprise then is that it actually has a rather unpleasant pasteurized/dirty goaty flavor. There is no nuance, no delicacy, no real redeeming qualities. Does not make the cut.



Random Thought to Further Burden You With
Things to beware: wolfs in sheeps' clothing and almost anything wrapped in paper cut-out leaves.