Dear Reader,
Long have I been gone from the bandwidth-bound halls of the blogonet, and far have I travelled. I return now for those hopeful ears still checking this site like a cold war spymaster keeping the back channels open and waiting for the wall to fall. I'm not sure my analogies have gotten any better, but that little segway was meant to signal my change of location. I'll give you a hint, some ill-advised people built an ill-advised wall and it's neither Palestine nor any of the southernmost US states. Also the wall is gonzo. While that brain-teaser teases your brain, let me tell you about today's cheese. I have honestly no idea how frequently these posts are going to come out, but I'm going to savor writing it so I hope you at least mildly enjoy reading it.
In keeping with my new top-secret location, today's cheese is available in it's true form only in Europe (dang, my loose lips have loosed a clue!). For those of you familiar with this blog, me, or cheese (funny how they are interchangeable here...), it will be clear that this is an unpasteurized cheese. Furthermore it's French. I'm not in France. I don't speak a word of the language that doesn't describe curdled milk. Hailing from the high pastures of the Champagne-Ardenne region, it's a stinker. I'm sitting at this very moment nose directly above a cut of it, and it has a definite aroma. Smells like a thousand million tiny little bac-teria encouraged by repeated baths in a brine solution munching away at a Penicillium Camemberti feast. Flowers are overrated Langres is not.
Origin: Champagne-Ardenne, France
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized
Affinage: 4-8 weeks
Rennet: Animal
Notes: Mine was on the younger side of Langres, and was still pretty much intact. On the near side of 8 weeks it'll be a sloppy, glorious mess. Colored with annatto, aged in damp vaults, and occasionally bathed in Champagne, this cheese has everything. 50% fat per solid content, AOC protected, super delicious.
Thoughts: For all its intense smell the flavor is not at all harsh. That is not to say it lacks flavor, though, far from it. The smallest morsel has more notes than you'd find in a modest three course meal or middle school rendition of Hot Cross Buns. The snow-white paste in the center has texture and spring, and leads you on a wonderland of flavor, never peaking but also never dying. The creamy richness parades mushroom, hay, hints of garlic, and something that I can only describe as the damp interior of a cheese aging shack. Because that 1) is so universally appealing 2) so universally relate-able. The creamline and the washed rind add some spice, waking up the back of your palate and then bathing it in heavy cream. I seem to be digging deeper. Oh well, if you're reading this blog at all you have the best chance of the whole world to find these descriptions even slightly appealing. The rind is unlike most any washed rind I've tried before, truly working with the rest of the cheese and just layering on the textural and flavor highlights with hints of bacon and just enough bite to remind you that you're consciously eating something and not just awash in a cheesy dream. Eat it. Eat it right up.
Get this. Here I am walking around the streets of (spoiler alert) Berlin when I see a specialty Italian foods store. Flush with confidence after my recent purchase of today's cheese I enter the establishment and ask the stout yeoman behind the counter about his wares. He proudly shows off 4 or 5 Italian cheeses that I could find you at your local King Soopers or Shaws. Unswayed I ask him if he carries any buffalo cheese, something the Italians do even better than impractical exotic super cars with unreliable electronics. He shows me a plastic-sealed (see supermarket brand) ball of Mozzarella di Bufala di Campagna. Feeling that I'm treading dangerously close to a certain Monty Python script, I ask him if he carries any other buffalo cheeses, having tried at least 4 myself and blogged about as many as well. He tells me in his best German customer service tone that there are no other Italian buffalo cheeses. I then shot him through the head. A joke you too will get if you watch the linked video. Or if you, like me, have already memorized it.
Long have I been gone from the bandwidth-bound halls of the blogonet, and far have I travelled. I return now for those hopeful ears still checking this site like a cold war spymaster keeping the back channels open and waiting for the wall to fall. I'm not sure my analogies have gotten any better, but that little segway was meant to signal my change of location. I'll give you a hint, some ill-advised people built an ill-advised wall and it's neither Palestine nor any of the southernmost US states. Also the wall is gonzo. While that brain-teaser teases your brain, let me tell you about today's cheese. I have honestly no idea how frequently these posts are going to come out, but I'm going to savor writing it so I hope you at least mildly enjoy reading it.
In keeping with my new top-secret location, today's cheese is available in it's true form only in Europe (dang, my loose lips have loosed a clue!). For those of you familiar with this blog, me, or cheese (funny how they are interchangeable here...), it will be clear that this is an unpasteurized cheese. Furthermore it's French. I'm not in France. I don't speak a word of the language that doesn't describe curdled milk. Hailing from the high pastures of the Champagne-Ardenne region, it's a stinker. I'm sitting at this very moment nose directly above a cut of it, and it has a definite aroma. Smells like a thousand million tiny little bac-teria encouraged by repeated baths in a brine solution munching away at a Penicillium Camemberti feast. Flowers are overrated Langres is not.
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized
Affinage: 4-8 weeks
Rennet: Animal
Notes: Mine was on the younger side of Langres, and was still pretty much intact. On the near side of 8 weeks it'll be a sloppy, glorious mess. Colored with annatto, aged in damp vaults, and occasionally bathed in Champagne, this cheese has everything. 50% fat per solid content, AOC protected, super delicious.
Thoughts: For all its intense smell the flavor is not at all harsh. That is not to say it lacks flavor, though, far from it. The smallest morsel has more notes than you'd find in a modest three course meal or middle school rendition of Hot Cross Buns. The snow-white paste in the center has texture and spring, and leads you on a wonderland of flavor, never peaking but also never dying. The creamy richness parades mushroom, hay, hints of garlic, and something that I can only describe as the damp interior of a cheese aging shack. Because that 1) is so universally appealing 2) so universally relate-able. The creamline and the washed rind add some spice, waking up the back of your palate and then bathing it in heavy cream. I seem to be digging deeper. Oh well, if you're reading this blog at all you have the best chance of the whole world to find these descriptions even slightly appealing. The rind is unlike most any washed rind I've tried before, truly working with the rest of the cheese and just layering on the textural and flavor highlights with hints of bacon and just enough bite to remind you that you're consciously eating something and not just awash in a cheesy dream. Eat it. Eat it right up.
Get this. Here I am walking around the streets of (spoiler alert) Berlin when I see a specialty Italian foods store. Flush with confidence after my recent purchase of today's cheese I enter the establishment and ask the stout yeoman behind the counter about his wares. He proudly shows off 4 or 5 Italian cheeses that I could find you at your local King Soopers or Shaws. Unswayed I ask him if he carries any buffalo cheese, something the Italians do even better than impractical exotic super cars with unreliable electronics. He shows me a plastic-sealed (see supermarket brand) ball of Mozzarella di Bufala di Campagna. Feeling that I'm treading dangerously close to a certain Monty Python script, I ask him if he carries any other buffalo cheeses, having tried at least 4 myself and blogged about as many as well. He tells me in his best German customer service tone that there are no other Italian buffalo cheeses. I then shot him through the head. A joke you too will get if you watch the linked video. Or if you, like me, have already memorized it.
