Val d'Armance, or The Thunderdome!

What do you do when your favorite cheese store is out of your desired curd? These are the moments, ladies and gents. The real nitty gritty, where the rubber meets the road, where the men are separated from the mice, where the toppings meet the pizza, where the wheat and the chaff meet at a fork in the road and before you know it you turn around and there's three more rabbits in the the pen then there were this morning. And are you ready to handle that!!?! I didn't think so.

This is the Thunderdome.
This is The Avengers in getting all avengery in whatever movie comes out in 2065 or whatever.
This is Snake Plissken escaping from NYC. Or LA. Or something.
This is
This is....
This is a pretty rough situation!

This is also why you want to have a top notch guy as a cheesemonger. When you say 'hey, where is the delicious young Époisses I had the other week' and he says 'we're all out' and you say 'aw man!!!' then he can say 'don't worry though we've got you covered try this instead it's similar and fantastic.' And that. That is how we get to Val d'Armance.

Origin: Champagne, France
Milk: Cow
Affinage: 3-4 weeks


Notes:  This one was a fairly young example, not yet fully eaten up into creamline and funk. Now, I'm not against funk. I can get down on some funk. But to get all the layers of flavor and complexity that is hidden there, it helps to have a cheese that doesn't already resemble soup.


Thoughts: Looks so funky, tastes so sweet. Butter-sweet. How does this taste so sweet? How does a washed rind cheese get away with tasting so sweet? Don't get me wrong, there are other things going on here as well. Mushrooms and garlic, our old friends, are at it again playing their familiar duet, but the guy with the megaphone in the room is Mr. Sweet. This tastes like how late spring days feel. This tastes like how loamy earth smells. There are even notes of black pepper that bounce off the buttery sweetness! The rind has a delightful texture and melts in your mouth, what more could you want?!



Escape from Detroit? Escape from Bloomington, IN? Escape from Montpelier, VT? 

Époisses de Bourgogne, or 'Holy Moses, kid!'

Sometimes, living in Germany, I start to get complacent. I mean, if you based your view of the cheese world on typically Swiss, Austrian, and German cheeses (typically what is on deep sale at my local stand), then you would be forgiven for thinking that all cheese is firm, made from cow's milk, and ranging in flavor from mildly buttery to sweet and nutty to, on occasion, sharp. I don't mean to insult the culinary credentials of my current country of residence, I am learning every week to appreciate the cheeses of the alps more and more. But, if the whole world of cheese flavors is a cathedral organ, then limiting yourself to eating only the cheeses from three countries is playing on only half an octave.

Sometimes, sometimes you have to remind yourself of the depth and breadth of what mankind can do with a little milk, a bit of patience, and a lot of skill. France is never a bad place to start. To that end we are tackling a legend of the French cheese scene, a cheese so renowned that it is actually embarrassing to not already have a post for it here on the blog: Époisses de Bourgogne.

Origin: Côte-d'Or, France
Milk: Cow, raw
Affinage: 4 weeks

Notes: Washed rind, brandy washed rind to be exact. What style, what class. This was a young one, still with a defined and firm white paste.

Thoughts: Hot dog. This is good. How good? As my grandma used to say "Holy Moses, kid!" We're talking mushrooms. We're talking roasted garlic. We're talking black pepper. This particular example was also sweet, and creamy, with a firm and defined paste that holds its own against all of the pep and power of creamline and rind. This is a balanced and delicious cheese, every bite a piece of culinary delight. Every element of this cheese, paste, creamline, and rind, come together in distinctly delicious ways to create a symphony of flavor. It is in balance, it is elegant.  This cheese deserves epic poems and entire 5 course meals based on it.



New challenge for next dinner party: Five-course Epoisses inspired menu. 

Mont d'Or, or 'The Return of the Functioning Cheese Addict'

This cheese is legend. There is no comparison. There is no replacement. You may not have known there were rich veins of gold in France, but this cheese is proof. I would truly rather have this cheese than the equivalent weight in gold. Why? Because you can’t dip fresh baguette into gold and eat it hand over fist until yesterday, today, and tomorrow blend into a gastronomic experience unmatched this side of michelin star restaurants and epic myths. 

Fresh from the oven!

Origin: France and Switzerland

Rennet: Animal

Milk: cow, unpasteurized

Affinage: ~6 weeks

Notes:

This cheese is also known as Vacherin du Haut-Doubs. The rind is washed and wavy, but the smell while strong is not offensive. This is a mostly seasonal cheese, to be made and eaten in winter. One classic preparation is to slice small slits in the top of the rind and insert slivers of raw garlic, add a splash of white wine, and bake in the oven until melted through and bubbling. This is what fondue wants to be when it grows up. 

Thoughts:

Even without the garlic, even without the white wine, this cheese has layers of flavor like a good dog has wags. Sautéed onions and garlic, cream, pot roast, yes pot roast. This cheese is truly among the few that could ever convince me to give up my carnivorous lifestyle, so rich and hearty and satisfying is the mixture of salt and fat hidden in this soft orange rind. The raw milk, assuming your version like mine is made with raw milk, is also a delight, tickling the nostrils like a fresh breeze rolling down an alpine meadow. These cheeses come in various sizes and it is definitely no pushover, but of everything I saw on the christmas party buffet that evening the only thing I really wanted more and more of was this cheese. It is more tempting than the sweetest dessert, more intoxicating than the headdiest punch. This cheese can be hard to find in stores, partially because of its seasonality and partially because it is a raw milk cheese. If you do chance upon one, though, buy first and ask questions later. You will not regret it!  

Hello Dear Readers,

So let's address the proverbial 800lb wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano in the room. It has been a little while since I've written anything about cheese, much less cheese culture and the coming cheese revolution. What happened? Just the usual. Met a girl, settled down, moved abroad, settled down again. That, plus a catastrophic flood, a new job, and all of the other slings and arrows that seven years bring. Although I stopped writing about cheese I've never stopped loving and chasing after it, and so in a year that promises to bring a great many new changes I bring you this humble re-launch. There is a new Instagram to follow (@TheFunctioningCheeseAddict), and yes even some new cheeses! Look for them new every week. 

Langres, (Lan)-GREY-sah. Just kidding, I have no idea.

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.  

Causses d'Argental. New Favorite.

But seriously. 

This stuff is silly good.

Dangerous tasty.

Maliciously edible. 

Made from pure raw sheep's milk in the Argental region of France.... here it is: Causses d'Argental.

Origin: Argental, France

Milk: Sheep, raw.

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3-5 months

Notes: Looks delicious, smells delicious, tastes delicious..... feels delicious..........

Thoughts: Notes of hay, bark, and meat combine in a Grand Unified Flavor that would make a physicist cry. But seriously, this stuff is awesome. Hints of fruit peak through an otherwise rich paste, which in its soft chewy paste has an almost chocolaty deliciousness. Roll it over your tongue, let it break down, let the milkiness carry you into another world of cheese enjoyment. Reasons I love French cheese: Causses d’Argental.   This cheese has a multi-stage minutes long flavor progression, it’s actually absurd. It bites, it makes up, it overwhelms with meaty saltiness, it turns nutty and tangy, it sates with sweetness and calms with casein. It is 5 cheeses in one, it is the something steady and the somefin’ somefin’, it is the cheese, the Käse, the formaggio, and the fromage. Also the kaas. It is at Cheese Importers and, not even just because I work there and honestly not with any kickback to this particular stout yeoman, you should go find it and buy it and devote a baguette to it. Maybe a song, light some candles to get the mood right, just really get to know this cheese. It is a beaut. 

This post is brought to you by post-finals ten hour cheese shift delirium. 

Not a bad delirium to have, actually.  

Quadrello di Bufala, Washed Rind Lovers Rejoice!

You know how you'll hear people sometimes say "if only they would cast [actor] in [role], he was made for it", or [if only [politician] had a chance of winning [office]", or perhaps more likely "if only [sports sports sports sports sports idon'tevenknow]"? Maybe you do know, but even if you don't bear with me. Anyone who has tried the delightful Taleggio knows just how good washed rind cheeses can be, but the more creative might have considered an even more decadent possibility; swapping that plain-jane cow's milk out for some buffalo milk. 

Well.

Someone went and did just that. Ladies and Gentlemongers; Quadrello di Bufala.

Origin: Italy, as in the Sunny Shores Of

Milk: Buffalo, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 1-2 months

Notes: Pretty much all you need to know is that buffalo milk has even more fats and proteins than sheep's milk and considerably more than cow's or goat's milk. That is pretty exciting from a flavor standpoint. 

Thoughts:

 Everything you could hope for when you hear the words “water buffalo” and “Tallegio” in the same sentence. The depth of flavor is instantly noticeable through the still young presence of the water buffalo milk. Every last fatty atom of this cheese cries out in an chorus of cheesy cheer, and that’s not even taking into account that it’s a washed rind. Whoever it was that wanted a meatier Tallegio must have been a genius because I could swap this out for ground beef in my next hamburger and probably never go back. The salt is perfectly balanced to draw forth the flavor and linger shortly before being overwhelmed by the sheer creaminess of this paste, and the overall effect is dark but sweet and salty, meaty but incredibly clean. I love cow’s milk Tallegio. I will always love cow’s milk Tallegio. I just may not be as in love with it as I am with this one.

The world needs more buffalo milk. I want a buffalo milk milkshake, buffalo ice cream, buffalo milk product cappuccino. Quick, someone call Starbucks. We'll call it a Bufala. 

Mariolles, Raw France France Raw Raw France

Named for an abbey deep in the Ardennes forest, surrounded by the mighty trees of Ardennes forest, imbued with the aroma of the Ardennes forest, aged in the shadow of the Ardennes forest, packaged in boxes made with the wood of the Ardennes forest, reminiscent of the flavor of the bark of the Ardennes forest, there is a cheese. 

This cheese has a name. 

That name is Mariolles. 

It is from the Ardennes forest. 

Origin: The Ardennes forest... France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 3-4 weeks

Notes: Beer washed rind, 45% fat, ripened with herbs and brushed regularly to keep only that good red bacteria growing on the surface. It's got AOC status, too. So there you go. 

Thoughts: Every part of this cheese screams washed rind, from the goey-brie-like paste to the warning-orange-red rind to the savory and meaty flavor. A little sour, a little salty, in fact at first this cheese has a bold almost spicy flavor. For the bold at heart, though, there is a great reward. The rich flavor at the beginning warrants a taste by itself but it quickly drops off and reveals a mellow and intensely savory aftertaste, highlighted by a hint of fruit here and there. Thoroughly delicious and a prime example of why fortune favors the bold.

No hurt... no curd.....

No pain.... no Brillat Savarin?

Also:

You can't actually get the unpasteurized version of this cheese in the US... sorry. 

Livarot, "The Colonel"

As it turns out some of France's reputation for stinky cheese is...... warranted. In fact fully warranted to the point of shocking even someone with a liking for stinky cheese such as myself. Today we will boldly go where few Americans dare, we will turn our backs on the safety of cheddar and "mexican four cheese blend", we will dive into the belly of the washed-rind beast and we shall triumph!!

In that we'll have eaten cheese, I guess, I kinda lost track of that one.

Hailing from the Normandie region of France, Livarot boasts a number of rather frightening sensory characteristics. First there's the color, because anything that orange is a pretty fair warning sign, the little white bits of mold speckling the rind, and finally (or rather first and foremost) the smell. Oh baby does it smell. 

Origin: Normandie, France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 5-8 weeks

Notes: You got yer briney washed rind. You got yer rush leaf wrapping. You got yer 45% fat content. Mhm ah yeah. 

Thoughts: Everything about this cheese is scary. The glowing orange rind covered in tiny dots of white mold, the firm paste with irregular eyes with an aroma that would make Pepe le Pew recoil, it’s little wonder people in the states aren’t begging for it to be imported en masse. A chewy paste, unusual for wahed rind cheeses, and after all that buildup there is actually very little to be afraid about. An earthy, meaty, salty, and mushroomy paste with the occasional crunch washes over the tastebuds thanks to the rich creaminess and is on the whole very mild, leaving an almost neutral aftertaste. Were it a cheddar it would not even be described as sharp, and though the flavors are never intense it does not feel muted, rather the full presence of the cheese is simply very restrained. The rind is a slightly different story, as the crunchy and salty initial tones build to a respectably spicy aftertaste

Sorry folks, this one could be a little tough to find in the USA, unpasteurized as it is. Remember, just because it looks and smells like Livarot does not mean you're getting the real deal. Demand more from your stinky cheese! 

Oh, and the nickname of this cheese is The Colonel thanks to its resemblance, wrapped up in three bands of rush leaves, to a uniform. I'm not just making everything up all the time, you know.  

 

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.   

Chimay, You've Tried the Beer Now Try the Cheese

Or if you're underage you've not tried either and you're at square one. Still not a bad place to be, though there aren't many pop-infused cheeses out there. Good thing too, I don't want orange drink anywhere near my dairy.
Chimay is a rather bizarre cheese, a washed rind product created by Trappist monks in Belgium that I've found to blur the lines between designations. It's not a brie, sure, but then it's similar in ways and different in others. It's rubbed down with none other than Chimay beer and the result is really rather striking.

Origin: Belgium
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: On the scale of weeks
Notes: On the soft end of semi-soft thanks to the regular beer baths, and yes that also means it's a bit of a stinker.
Thoughts: A tasty cheese with a hard to place texture, this particular “drunk cheese” does not have an especially strong resemblance to the beer’s flavor but makes up for it in a big way. The effect of the washing process is hugely evident in the meaty, rich, creamy paste and it breaks down so easily on the palate you wouldn't even know you were eating anything at all. This salty and hearty cheese, while perhaps not refined, is rustic and bold in the best of ways and is mouth watering at room temperature. Eat it with a Belgium beer, perhaps even a Chimay, and say thanks to the monks who made it by hand for you.


Caution
Unlike Belgian beer glasses, not every Belgian cheese has it's own special serving plate. Just think how cool it would be if they did, though. 

Appenzeller, A Sub-par Swiss

Today's is a tale of a mighty mountain Swiss cheese that has fallen victim to mass production and export. Appenzeller, or Appenzell, gains its name from the canton of Appenzell in easternmost Switzerland. It has a lot going for it; washed in a secret brine concoction giving it fruity and spicy notes, made from raw milk, with the flavor-giving power of the Alps behind it, yet with quality comes popularity, with popularity comes demand, and with demands comes supply. Sadly most of the supply that reaches the fair shores of import countries is nowhere near the high standard that made it famous, so we find pieces like the one I bought.

Origin: Appenzell, Switzerland
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized whole milk
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: About 3 months
Notes: Some ingredients in the brine wash include: herbs, pepper, white wine, cider, water, salt. In proper operations this mixture will be tirelessly rubbed over the rind on repeat during the aging process to impart a strong essence into the cheese.
Thoughts: This piece struck me as being mildly  tangy and a little bitter, on account of the raw milk, but what got to me most of all was the rubbery, spongy texture. So elastic was it, in fact, and so forgettable were the carelessly arranged flavors, that I didn't even finish the small piece I bought, it just wasn't appetizing. Where does this leave us. In the spirit of objectivity I'd recommend finding and trying some if you can, it is an interesting cheese at the very least and couldn't do much harm to your next fondue. I wouldn't include it on a cheese platter, at the very least because there are such better Swiss cheeses to be had. Perhaps one day I'll find myself in Appenzell and I'll have a revelation, but so far I'm not impressed.


Question
Including the wrapper in pictures of food is really cool, right guys? 

Taleggio, The Best Grilled Cheese... Cheese

Everyone has fond childhood memories of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, and if you don't then don't worry you probably just had your memory erased or something. I hear that happens. My memories of this staple meal usually include the Warhol-worthy Campbells Tomato Soup, some sliced white bread, and deli cheddar or swiss, grilled in butter on the stove. Truly delicious.
In the many many years since my childhood grilled cheese has undergone a revolution of its own, from individually intrepid edible entrepreneurs to entire grilled cheese cook-offs. While the crazies in California are putting on costumes and making dessert grilled cheeses, a whole other world of grilled cheeses exists in the Old World. Greece has Halloumi, Raclette has been grilled in the Alps for centuries, and then there is today's cheese. While not traditionally a grilling cheese per se, Taleggio makes for my personal favorite grilled cheese recipe. With Prosciutto, sweet fig jam, and slices of Tallegio, grilled cheese gets taken to a whole new level. I first tried this combination while working at the Cheese Importers and instantly loved it. Just don't dunk it in soup. 

Origin: Lombardy, Italy
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: Six to ten weeks
Notes: Right, so it doesn't look particularly appetizing, and it's washed in brine regularly during it's aging process so it is on the, um, full side of the aroma spectrum, but don't knock it 'till you try it. It will change everything.
Thoughts: Like most all washed rind, "stinky" cheeses, the bark of this cheese is significantly worse than the bite. What meets your tastebuds at the first bite is in fact a very mellow, though fully developed, delight. The soft, springy texture has a creamy and milky feel to it but the real flavor is in the salty, meaty tones that build up quickly and remain through to the end. Hints of fruit and nuts come in through the end of this very smooth and medium-bodied cheese, rounding out and adding a very mature dimension to the overall flavor. Given that description one can see how it would pair beautifully grilled with sweet, succulent fig jam and salty, potent prosciutto and... and now I'm hungry.

Caution
I am planning a trip to northern Lombardy, right near the Val Tallegio where this cheese is rumored to have originated. If I stop posting these one day with no warning, you know where to find me. Be advised, I might go straight Colonel Kurtz.