There's no doubt about it: The cheese boom is in full swing.
Over the past several years, specialty shops have blossomed across the country, from southern California to Maine (including Blue Fog Market, Fromagination and The Cave), all with super-dedicated cheese selections. This month renowned Brooklyn, N.Y., restaurant Franny's became the latest eatery to open its very own specialty food shop, Bklyn Larder, just down the street.
Aside from an array of prepared foods cooked by chef Travis Post, Bklyn Larder has its own cheese room, with an appropriate humidity and temperature for aging and storing cheese. "This will enable us to carry larger amounts of cheese," says Francine Stephens, who, along with co-owner and husband Andrew Feinberg, co-founded the restaurant back in 2004.
In September of 2007, Feinberg attended the Slow Flood cheese festival in Bra, Italy to seek out unique and tasty cheeses to eventually carry at the still-in-the-planning-stages Larder. They can all be spied through the glass window of the shop's aging room. (Food voyeurs -- you know who you are -- beware!)
A culinary trip down to Georgia often includes shrimp and grits, barbecue, crispy flounder and red velvet cake. Now Green Hill, a creamy bloomy rind cow's milk cheese, can be added to that gastronomic list thanks to Sweet Grass Dairy in Thomasville, Ga.
Tasting a piece of Green Hill is like opening a taste bud treasure chest. Its lush creamy texture melts dreamily on the palate, leaving a pleasantly mild tang.
While Green Hill shares many characteristics with its imported French cousin, Camembert, it boasts a uniquely buttery consistency. And whereas most imported Camembert has become industrialized for the United States market, Green Hill remains a standout handmade farmstead cheese.
Usually, the thought of goat's milk cheeses conjures up images of small, freshly ripened, creamy-to-crumbly chèvres, like the French Valençay or Brad Parker's ashed log, which come in pyramid and log shapes, respectively. Little Bloom on the Prairie, from Prairie Fruits Farm in Champaign, Ill., defies all such expectations. When ripe, its texture turns into a succulent cream that slowly oozes from its rind. (Trust us, that's tastier than it sounds).
Little Bloom on the Prairie is a goat's milk cheese with a bloomy rind similar to Mont Vivant, but with a luscious consistency that make its texture more comparable to a rich Brie. Still, even though the cheese's silky touch matches that of a bloomy rind, its flavors are distinctly herbal, floral and even grassy (tastes often associated with goat's milk cheeses). In short, based upon its texture and appearance (this bloomy rind cheese is in the format of a smaller Camembert), Little Bloom on the Prairie seems like a typical runny cow's milk cheese.
As with life, however, appearances can be deceiving: A bite of this fromage reveals an unexpected yet pleasant tang.
Some of my first memories of eating artisanal cheese come from the French family I lived with in Tours, France. Before ending the meal with a dessert, my host mother would serve one or two cheeses without any condiments. At first, it seemed strange eating the cheese plain with a fork, sometimes with bread and almost never with fruit or honey. But after a month, not pairing cheese became normal. When I returned to the U.S. after a year, I was surprised and intrigued by the American obsession with cheese pairings.
What is it about American food culture that tempts us to eat more than one food at a time? It's as though our insatiable desire distracts us from enjoying simplicity. While managing the cheese shop Formaggio Essex it became my job to pair cheeses with different crackers, honeys, jams, and much more.
I have to admit that I fell for the "American desire" to add more. After several months of tasting cheeses with different condiments, I quickly developed a talent for pairing. While I think pairing is an important skill, especially in cooking, I believe it's still important to return to a less elaborate cheese course. Often, the intensity of a cheese can only be appreciated when tasting the cheese plain. Learn when to pair and when not to pair after the jump.
If Kraft can produce best-selling industrial cheeses why can't Nestle? It's slightly alarming to see that in Mexico Nestle is selling a cheese they call Manchego. Indeed, the cheese they call Manchego could not be any more different than the original Manchego, produced in the region of La Mancha in Spain. Instead of being made with sheep's milk, it's made with cow's milk. While Manchego has a striking bright dark rind, this one is rindless. In short, Nestle's version is highly manufactured; Manchego is artisanal.
The larger issue is whether or not the Spanish government should protect the Manchego name, like France has done with Champagne and Mexico with tequila. Nestle is taking advantage of a Spanish cheese and marketing their version under its name. It's no wonder why the company is selling it specifically in Mexican grocery stores. But, perhaps I am being too judgmental of Nestle. After all, think of what the American food market has done to mozzarella. Check out the poll below to let us know what you think.
Emmental and Gruyère are the usual suspects when choosing cheeses for fondue. Occasionally, people use Appenzeller, Comté, Beaufort, and Tête de Moine. When I make cheese fondue, I like to try cheeses that I've never used before - experiment! Cheeses that work well in a fondue are dense creamy cow's milk Alpine cheeses, like the ones mentioned above.
Some people strongly believe that a fondue should consist of only one cheese. I'm not from that school of thought. In fact, I think it's a good idea to have one cheese be the base from which other cheeses are chosen. For example, if I chose Comté to be the main cheese in my fondue, I might want another cheese, such as Erguel Jurakäse, that has a more spicy flavor. The idea is to melt together a variety of three or 4 cheeses that create a well balanced flavor. In other words, use a larger piece of a more traditional "fondue cheese," like Emmental and Gruyère, and then, add to it.
After the jump, find out 5 suggested full-flavored cheeses you can add to your fondue.
From the moment I tried Salers cheese, I was intrigued by its meaty flavor, peppery taste, and zest of dried fruit and nuts. Salers is part of a family of cheeses, from the Auvergne region of France, that includes Cantal and Laguiole. I think of them as the "French cheddars," because of their cheddar-like consistency and nuttiness. As far as taste is concerned, I have never tasted any other cheese that has the same animal taste as Salers.
The history of Salers dates back at least 2,000 years. Its popularity was at its peak during the 17th century, at the court of Louis XIV. Traditionally, Salers was aged in burons, stone huts, in the mountains where the farmers sought refuge. The cheese provided a source of food and a form of currency for exchange. Today there are just 100 farmers producing the cheese. The name of the cheese comes from the name of the breed of cows that produce the milk that creates this cheese. The Salers cows are brought up to the high mountain pastures during the summer to graze on wild flowers and grass.
It's their rich summer diet that produces the cheese's complex aroma and taste. Salers is aged for approximately 10 months and is made from 100 percent raw milk. You can bring out the sweetness of Salers and subdue its meatiness with a full body red wine. It also pairs well with dried nuts. Recommendations on where to purchase this cheese can be found after the jump.
I was walking on Broadway the other day, and I was nearly side-swiped by a peddling man, swerving in a red buggy. Obviously, it was a cheese delivery man.
Artisanal Premium Cheese recently launched their "Same Day Rickshaw Delivery" service in Manhattan, offering patrons between 34th and 63rd streets a 5pm delivery of an assortment of cheeses. Artisanal paired with Revolution Rickshaws (those lanky bicyclists in Central Park who offer romantic carriage rides) to add a little flavor to the service. Why they specifically choose a 29 block radius for cheese delivery? Well, its considered their "initial kick-off" phase, but I'm hoping for a complete expansion. I'm sure the cheese gets prime-time refrigeratory treatment, and the the site does say "Rickshaw Revolution will start peddling your way", so Ill be patiently waiting in my downtown apartment for the Rickshaw Celebration Collection.
I must admit, I'm fantasizing about owning one of those rickshaws. Can you imagine how popular I would be if my mobile bumper sticker said professional cheese delivery?
One of things that I find shocking when browsing through most cheese departments in supermarkets, like Whole Foods, is the large amount of industrial Goudas, such as Old Amsterdam. Don't get me wrong. I too love these Goudas for their butterscotch flavors and crunchy texture. But, they just do not compare to the handmade Goudas crafted throughout Holland. My current favorite is Reypenaer.
Reypenaer is like no other Gouda that has melted on my palate! Right away, I noticed how much creamier it was compared to many of the industrial Goudas that have a texture equivalent to chewy plastic. Reypenaer is bursting with complexities in flavor ranging from dried fruits to honey and caramel. One of the signs of a well made cheese is having several layers of taste. Reypenaer accomplishes this marvelously. What a gastronomic trip!
After experiencing Reypenaer, I felt compelled to discover as much as I could about the cheese. I found out that it's a Fabriekskaas Gouda that is made from pasteurized cow's milk. Fabriekskaas Goudas age naturally in a historic cheese aging warehouse on the Rhine river in the village of Woerden. The facility permits natural fluctuations of temperature to affect the aging process. It's in this environment that Reypenaer ages for about two years. Information concerning the cheese's producer, how to eat Reypenaer, and where you can purchase it can be found after the jump.