Fol Epi, Wild Wheat Stalk

More lovely language lessons from learning cheesey lexicon.
Today's cheese gets its name from its shape and preparation, both of which would be right at home in a bakery. The whole cheese, for it can't really be called a wheel, looks just like a loaf of bread; a roughly circular squat dome with stalks of wheat in relief stretching out from the center. On top of this it is coated with toasted wheat flour, forming a unique rind and adding somewhat to the flavor of the cheese. High in protein and markedly sweeter than most Swiss and Swiss-style cheeses, it is "the perfect choice for those with sensitive palates"....
Despite how lame that sounds it's actually a good cheese, even a good Swiss-knockoff. In fact, Fol Epi is what Jarlsberg should be but isn't.

Origin: Pays de Loire, France
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 3 months
Notes: Fol Epi is also brought to those of us in America courtesy of Ile de France, but somehow it's just more satisfying than yesterday's Saint Andre. The whole cheese, while still very much "produced" rather than "made", just holds up better. This is partially because it's marketed as a snacking cheese rather than a decadent triple-crème, but regardless it get's my approval.
 Thoughts: Although this cheese splits the middle between semi-firm and semi-soft and is actually rather dry for either, it doesn't sacrifice anything on flavor. A simple but well executed nutty sweetness builds steadily up throughout the taste and ends in a tangy-sweet aftertaste. A heavier texture and a balanced creaminess make for a truly satisfying and full-flavored though mild snacking cheese that, yes, is "sensitive palate" friendly. The Emmentaler on which it's based is a better cheese overall, but that does not make Fol Epi unworthy of consideration for snacking and other light-hearted cheese endeavors.

Caution
"Those with sensitive palates" is industry code for "people who can't handle/appreciate the real thing". This does not make the cheeses so prescribed necessarily bad nor the person so described necessarily a cheese novice, but....

Red Cloud, The Poison Dart Frog of Goat Cheeses

Except this little guy is only warning you of the intense flavor and aroma instead of, you know, poison.
It's a Goaterday miracle!

Haystack Mountain Goat Dairy, whom I had the pleasure of working for during the summer of 2010, boasts a wide range of handmade goat and mixed milk cheeses. A proud staple of it's Longmont community, Haystack has been making cheese since the late 1980s when it started out as a small farmstead operation. Today they have widespread recognition both in Colorado and nationwide and a number of well-earned awards hanging on their wall for their offerings such as today's Red Cloud. Named after one of Colorado's famed 14ers, or mountain peaks over fourteen thousand feet (4.2km), it is a washed rind specialty made with raw milk; a recipe for truly intense flavor.

Origin: Colorado, USA
Milk: Goat, raw
Rennet: Vegetarian 
Affinage: 60 days
Notes: Seriously, this cheese stinks! What is a major issue in primary school, however, is less of a putdown and more of a temptation on a cheese plate. Just keep it separate from other cheeses, it still doesn't play well with others.
Thoughts: Once you screw your courage to the cheese-eating place and take a bite, you are instantly rewarded with a bold and complex flavor. A very rich creaminess washes tones of the usual goaty sweetness over the palate at first, but this quickly develops to reflect the raw milk and the washed rind. That particular tang that is so unique to raw milk cheeses is displayed beautifully here and plays perfectly off of the meaty, fruity tones from the washed rind. Every flavor in this cheese comes on strong and yet they maintain a healthy balance throughout making for a very addicting, if slightly breath-souring, experience.

Caution
"slightly breath souring" is a bit of an understatement. It's like saying Obama "kind of poked fun at Donald Trump" in his White House Correspondents Dinner speech. Actually, this cheese will wipe the proverbial smug smile and self-righteous attitude right off your proverbial ridiculous-hair topped face and leave it griping the next day to its proverbial support base of business elites. 

eh-ehm...

What I mean by that is it's a very smelly, very strong cheese and you should probably put off your first-kiss plans with little-miss cutie (little-mister dapper) until you've gargled, flossed, and brushed. Twice.

Naked Goat, As Opposed to those Clothed Goats

There are quite a few under appreciated cheeses coming out of Spain, such as my personal favorite Cabra Romero, and though I would be hard pressed to pick a favorite cheese-country I can safely say I would be loath to do without Spain's offerings. Here again we see a powerful goat cheese, also known as Queso do Murcia Curado, in which a play on the raw nature of the milk used gives us The Naked Goat. 

Origin: Murcia, Spain

Milk: Goat, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 6 months

Notes: I'm not sure why there is a blushing goat on the Naked Goat labels,  I'm pretty sure organisms that only border on self-awareness aren't particularly self-conscious. In any case this cheese makes for some great display possibilities, as it is firm enough to hold its shape and, well, uniformly delicious.

Thoughts: This cheese is a perfect example of regional differences among cheeses and the glories of Spanish cheese in general. It has all of the oily goodness of a Spanish sheep’s milk cheese and all of the assosciated grassy flavor. Add on top of that the full tangy sweetness of goat's milk and suddenly you have a very complex and bold flavor; mixing the best of goat's milk with a powerfully rich earthiness from the fat. Although it is a drier cheese, it manages to be exceptionally creamy and the savoryness is accented perfectly at the end of the taste with a hint of salt. This cheese is truly incredible, and given it's rather firm, dry appearance the extent to which this cheese develops and satisfies is a lovely surprise. Whenever it's sampled at the Cheese Importers it always disappears, with some greedy souls going back for 4th and 5th helpings. Really though it is that good, and with roasted salted Spanish almonds it's to die for.    

Caution

If you're paying any attention to the labels feature you might notice I've reviewed quite a few more cow cheeses than goat or sheep cheeses, and a good deal more . Do not think, however, that this is a sign of favoritism. That's what the "Favorite" label is for.  

Saint André, (See Cheesecake)

Right, so first things first. The astute and devoted reader of this blog will have noticed with the greatest of disappointment that there was no blog post yesterday. Blogger, the device through which I disseminate this dastardly delicious dossier, was effectively down for the better part of two days, rather throwing off the whole cheese-a-day scheme. No matter, for today you get three posts! One for today, one for yesterday, and a third because, who am I kidding; I thoroughly enjoy writing these.

Perhaps the biggest problem with bringing the great cheeses of Europe to the non-European table is the issue of quality control. The industrial revolution had devastating consequences for genuine cheesemaking traditions in Europe, but while the good stuff can again be found on a small scale the same cannot be said for what is exported in bulk. As a result we have cheeses such as today's Saint André; a cheese with flavor, texture, and good looks, but lacking a soul.

Origin: Normandy, France
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Vegetable
Affinage: Roughly 30 days
Notes: Here we see our first fake leaf, and even though this cheese is legitimately from France it still suffers from being, well, dumbed down for export. French cheese importing giant Ile de France is probably responsible for most of the French cheeses available at your supermarket, but for all the good they have done in spreading the word it has come at the cost of integrity of the cheese. Sure we can get Fol Epi, Saint Agur, Bleu d'Auvergne and other cheeses of French origin, but they are typically only facsimiles of the original. Worse yet, real-deal cheeses are often discontinued domestically to favor the more profitable export of these pseudo-cheeses. Oh PS it's a triple crème too.
Thoughts: The first thing you'll notice about this cheese, once you remove the paper leaf, is the texture. It is surprisingly dense for a triple crème, so much so in fact that it will hold its shape even at room temperature. Unfortunately, with the supermarket cheesecake-like texture comes a supermarket cheesecake-like flavor. While obviously very rich and creamy, Saint André is otherwise underwhelming. It is sweet and slightly salty but otherwise pretty one-dimensional. This combined with the dense texture means that it does not cover the palate as evenly as some smoother cheeses and, overall, there are just better "dessert bries" to be had. Don't get me wrong; this is not a bad cheese, and it will certainly be a crowd pleaser alongside sweet fresh fruit, but it lacks soul. The original notes from my tasting read "flavor is good but not incredible", and really it could be so much more.

Caution
Going the extra distance for the true essence of that one French Cheese might just mean flying to France for it. On the other hand, dairies in the US are making ever-better originals, and why pass up the cheese tours right in your backyard?  

Comté, A French Giant

There is a certain mystique to the cheeses of the high Alps. Something about the high mountain pastures makes for milk, and cheese, that is unmatched in quality. There are a few varieties of these cheeses, characterized by their firm density, their long aging periods, and also the colossal size that the individual wheels are made in. A wheel of Comté, for example, is three feet in diameter, 4 inches thick, and will typically weigh 75-80 pounds (34-36kg). Delicate cheeses these are not, but unlike its distant relatives from the plains of Île-de-France, Comté was not meant to be cradled delicately and nibbled on in a Parisian cafe. This sturdy fromage could be aged for 2 years in the high country, rolled like a wheel out of mountains, and would still be more than deserving of a place on any cheese plate. 

Origin: Franche-Comté, France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: One year

Notes: The full name of this cheese is Gruyère de Comté, due to a minor border-related dispute with the nearby Swiss. The Swiss make a cheese nearly identical called Gruyère, aged and made under marginally different circumstances, but this is no knockoff. The name Gruyère, while usually attributed to the town Gruyères in Switzerland, actually dates back to when the Roman empire encompassed the whole region and the forests were referred to as "gruyères". Wood from the forest was sold to cheesemakers, who used it to cook their curd, and was paid for with cheese. Knowledge is Power. Even relatively inconsequential cheese-related knowledge. 

Thoughts: This cheese smells and tastes like it was made with care and precision high in the Alps and then spent the rest of the trip to your plate just generally becoming even more delicious. Oddly enough that’s just what it did. The first thing one might notice is the characteristic crunch of casein clusters that form due to the long aging process and the protein-rich milk. This is a good thing. Every little snap crackle and even the occasional pop creates a symphony honoring the grandeur of this cheese. It is grassy, tangy, creamy in flavor despite being relatively dry on the whole, and when the golden paste breaks down on the palate a rush of sweet cheesy (a fellow sampler said it tastes rather of “cheese”) goodness transports you to a new plane of cheese enjoyment. There is so much going on in this cheese, and all of it so perfectly balanced and timed, that by the time you’ve realized how sweet it is there comes salty and his shy friend flowery dropping in for a minute before the standard nuttiness sweeps you away again. The aftertaste is a richly savory, but unless you’re all out you probably won’t be lingering long between bites.  

Caution
I am a big believer in cheese related tourism, and to be honest Switzerland is pretty high on my list even apart from the considerable gastronomic draw. This being said, Gruyères is not the birthplace of Gruyère. 







What, you want a joke in this Caution section? 
Fine. Donald Trump's political ambitions. 
haHA.