Some of you may remember a time when we were but lowly cheese fans, when had no words to describe the sensations we experienced, no knowledge to impart upon our readers, and no venue to acquire such knowledge.
Times have changed.
Last Saturday, we spent the morning working at the Capri Cheesery stand at the Dane County Farmers' Market, under the tutelage of Felix, the man behind some of our favorite cheeses. (See our very first TASTES post here, and a later Capri tasting here.) We learned a lot and had a blast, and we look forward to writing more detailed posts soon on topics as diverse as cooking temperatures, chemical compounds, and, of course, how hard it is to milk a bear. (Ask Felix.)
We'll be working at the Capri stand Saturday mornings - stop by and sample some cheese!
In January, we wrote about the legend of Liederkrantz, a cheese that had become extinct 20 years ago. Check out the post for the intriguing story.
But it looks like Liederkrantz has returned! A couple years ago, the DCI Cheese Co bought the cheese division of ConAgra, who apparently was holding on to the Liderkrantz recipe. Last weekend in Madison, cheesemaker Myron Olson of DCI presented Liederkranz at the World Championship Cheese Contest. Olson works out of the Chalet Cheese Co-Op in Monroe, WI, and his cheesery also makes Limburger, the German cheese that Liederkrantz was styled after.
Liederkranz fans rejoice! In the next week, the the cheese will reappear in Milkwaukee, Whitefish Bay, Mequon, Wauwatosa, Grafton, Elm Grove, Franklin, Greenfield and Germantown, Wisconsin.
It's been almost four months since the beginning of our cheesy journey. When Kara and I took our first step back in December, we were idiots when it came to cheese. If you haven't yet, take a look at my first post and Kara's. Pitiful. If our knowledge back then could be represented by a hunk of cheese, it would be a very holey Swiss.
I'm not saying our cheese-brains today are anywhere near to being completely full (maybe one day they'll be more like solid Gruyere), but we've made some great strides.
I hope everyone is learning from, or at least laughing at, our day to day adventures. Continue to read, and tell your friends!
(Note: That license plate is not one of ours. Sadly.)
A week or so ago on a routine trip to the grocery store, I witnessed the apparently well-known "cheese lady" carving a 6 foot block of cheese as some sort of exhibition. A while back, Kara posted about a cheese sculpture of Obama's head. If three means a trend, then cheese art is in fashion.
The Cooks' Den posted a recipe for a Steve Jobs cheese head carving, complete with step-by-step illustrations, in honor of the iPad release.
Thought: how cool would it be to film Cheese Jobs, as I've named this sculpture, being slowly melted in an oven? Let's take cheese into the realm of performance art!
Daniel Angerer, chef of New York restaurant Klee Brasserie, had a problem: his wife, who had recently given birth, was producing an overabundance of breast milk. Instead of throwing the excess milk away, what Angerer said would be a waste, he decided to make it into cheese. The cheese isn't served at his restaurant, and Angerer says it was only an experiment.
At some point in Erica's birthday festivities, she received a mysterious package containing three varieties of cheese from Artisanal Premium Cheese. Though the origins of the gift were eventually determined, the excitement and allure of the unexpected cheese delivery endured. We couldn't resist eating the Majorero Pimenton straight out of the package... But we summoned up enough self-restraint to catch Mystery Cheese #2 on video.
Background: Pecorino Balze Volteranne is a raw sheep milk cheese from Italy. "Pecorino" is a label applied to any Italian cheese made from the milk of a sheep (una pecora! -- or perhaps more than una, but we don't know how to pluralize in Italian). The Balze di Volterra, or Cliffs of Volterra, are located in Tuscany, and provide a breathtaking backdrop for cheese-crafting. P.B.V. is a mouthful of a name for a mouthful of cheese; see our video for a thoroughly unilluminating discussion of how (not) to pronounce it.
Artisanal provides very thorough introductions to their cheeses, as well as suggestions about wine and beer pairings. According to their description, P.B.V. is a firm, toothsome ("al dente!") cheese with "a nutty texture" that pairs especially well with red wines, such as sangiovese/chianti. The flavor is supposed to call to mind green olives, due to a 60-day aging process involving the ash of oak and olive trees. Some sources suggest that Pecorinos like P.B.V. are used mainly in cooking, and may be freely substituted for Parmesan... but we decided to forgo the grating and take a big bite right out of the hunk.
The Taste: This is the first cheese of which we'd read a detailed description before we had our first bite. We noticed right away the firmness described by the distributor. Kara in particular loved the hard-but-not-crumbly texture. The cheese has a complex taste that starts off mild and creamy before spreading over the tongue and waking up. The taste lingers and becomes stronger, with grassy, leafy notes coming through. We could taste the influence of the olive wash on the rind. This cheese is less pungent than most of the cheeses we've tasted (and loved) previously, but it still has a very unique taste. We recommend it for beginning and advanced cheese tasters alike!
Yesterday, U.S. Customs and Border Protection in El Paso discovered 107 lbs. of white bricks hidden in secret compartments in a van heading into the states from Mexico.
This past week we tasted Saint-Nectaire, which we purchased at the Willy St. Co-op with our guest taster, Camila.
Background: Saint-Nectaire, a French cow's milk cheese, is made in Auvergne, France. This little region is very proud of its cheese, which they've made since the 17th century. Their website includes the heading, "Auvergne and Saint-Nectaire.... or when love rhymes with passion." This is either a translation error or the words of a very poetic community.
Saint-Nectaire was the first farmer's cheese to receive AOC certification. The AOC stamp means that true Saint-Nectaire must come from Auvergne. To make the cheese, the curds are gathered into a single tomme, which is later cut into small cubes and pressed into small circular moulds by hand. It is then salted and pressed for one day. The last step is a drying period of about 8 weeks, during which it is twice washed in brine. Traditionally, the cheese is dried on rye straw. Because Saint-Nectaire is from a specific region, it is said to pick up is mushroomy and nutty taste from the vegetation around where it ripens.
The Taste: We have a variety of strong and varied reactions to this cheese! Much more of a dynamic and emotional experience than our typical "Mm, I like it... In fact, I really like it." We primarily credit the cheese, of course, but also Camila, whose scientific insights are truly invaluable to this review. (For specifics, see the video below.)
The Saint-Nectaire is very smelly, especially when allowed to warm up to room temperature. (We're coming along in our cheese practices: this may have been the first time we've had enough patience to experience any cheese at room temperature.) It's a semi-soft cheese, though more rubbery than creamy in consistency.
But enough about smells and textures: it's the taste of Saint-Nectaire that makes the biggest impression... or rather, impressions. Erica's first reaction: very positive. Kara: neutral. Camila: "It smells like E. Coli to me." Initially, there's some potential for a mild to moderate disgust reaction to the moldy taste and slimy feel on the tongue, but the gross-out period seems to be longer for some tasters than others (possibly depending on your level of expertise with regards to mold and bacteria; those who have spent time working with strains of either may not want a smell that usually wafts out of a petri dish to linger on their taste palate).
As the chewing continues, the taste continues to unfold into a complex experience of strong, interlocking flavors. The cheese is sweet, especially at the beginning, increasingly sour toward the end, and very salty throughout. It's also much creamier in taste than it feels in texture. The Dolmen label promises hints of "grasses, flowers, and herbs," which we didn't quite detect... However, after much debate, we are now in agreement that--mildewiness notwithstanding and regardless of the presence or absence of flora flavors--Saint-Nectaire is a supremely tasty cheese. And not for the faint of heart.
Our one failing in this tasting: neglecting our new interest in pairing! Baguette is a safe choice for this fromage, but we promise to be more adventurous next time.
By Kara and Erica
