TASTES: Rocastin Sheep Milk Brie

By Kara and Erica

A few months ago, we and a few other friends casually enjoyed a sheep milk Brie. Well, to the others it was casual. We, of course, knew we'd have to come back to contemplate it more seriously. Today's cheese is a French Rocastin Sheep Milk Brie from the Willy St. Co-op.

Background: Rocastin (also know as "Berger de Rocastin" and "Fromage de Brebis") is a French brie-style cheese, made with sheep's milk (hence the French references to shepherds and ewes). In general, Brie cheeses are distinguished by their soft and creamy texture and rich flavor - two cow's milk varieties are protected by the A.O.C. (Brie de Meaux and Brie de Melun), and a wide array of Brie-style cheeses are available and extremely popular in the U.S. Brie cheese are often relatively young (4-5 weeks) and most easily recognized by their circular or wedge-like shape, their white, "bloomy" rind, and their oozingly creamy center.

There is very little information about Rocastin out there: most descriptions center on the "velvety rind," which is pretty typical for any Brie-style cheese. Rocastin is produced in the Rhone-Alps region of France. Immediately apparent differences between Rocastin and more common varieties of "Brie": sheep's milk and a triangular shape. (It's produced in a rectangular rather than a circular mold, leading us to wonder about the effects of corners on its taste...)

The Taste: Although we have a (possibly biased) soft spot for goat's milk cheese, this sheep brie is absolutely delicious. Like with goat's milk cheeses, though, it has grassy, earthy notes. We enjoyed this added complexity! In terms of texture, sheep milk brie is everything cow milk brie is, but to the extreme. The higher fat content in sheep's milk makes the cheese very rich and creamy. It's thick and sticks to the roof of your mouth (in a decadent--not disgusting--way).

If you love brie but are bored with the typical selections, try some sheep!

Sources:

Wikipedia: "Brie"

Cheeselibrary.com: "Fromage d'Affinois de Brebis"

TASTES: Saint-Nectaire

By Erica and Kara

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.

LINKS: Especes (de fromage) en danger de disparition!

By Kara
The Boston Globe recently published a sad little article about the demise of French artisanal cheeses. Culprits include Americans, the EU, the rising popularity and eventual mandatory-ness of pasteurization (one could, by extension, blame a certain bonhomme francais), globalization, and the culinary corporations known collectively as Big Food.

One fromagerie-owner gives an especially heart-breaking quote: "There are plenty of cheeses that only exist as names in old books."

I hope there never comes a day when there are cheeses that only exist as names in old blogs! Just to be safe, though, I think we should aim to taste as many as possible... You know, for posterity.

(Thanks for the tip, G & GB and others.)