CHEESE NOTES

High-res Best. Business Card. Ever. (via Gizmodo) Of Course a Cheese Store Has a Tiny Grater Business Card Since printing its address and contact details on a slice of muenster cheese would probably do more harm than good for Bon Vivant, the Brazilian-based cheese shop hired ad agency JWT to come up with something better. And in every way possible, this miniature cheese grater business card is a much better idea. So as not to also turn your wallet into a pile of shredded leather, the grater comes in a protective sleeve, which probably also helps to minimize the inevitable cheese smell from permeating your pocket. And that’s also why the garlic growers of the world should just forget about trying a similar gimmick to promote their product. You can even see some video of the grater in action.

Best. Business Card. Ever. (via Gizmodo)

Of Course a Cheese Store Has a Tiny Grater Business Card

Since printing its address and contact details on a slice of muenster cheese would probably do more harm than good for Bon Vivant, the Brazilian-based cheese shop hired ad agency JWT to come up with something better. And in every way possible, this miniature cheese grater business card is a much better idea.

So as not to also turn your wallet into a pile of shredded leather, the grater comes in a protective sleeve, which probably also helps to minimize the inevitable cheese smell from permeating your pocket. And that’s also why the garlic growers of the world should just forget about trying a similar gimmick to promote their product.

You can even see some video of the grater in action.

Food Travel Company: Madame Fromage Interview

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The Food Travel Company blog features an interview with Tenaya Darlington, author of the new book House of Cheese: A Guide to Wedges, Recipes and Pairings (you can check out my review here): 

From her tales of cheese retreats, to her tips on how to talk to a cheesemonger, to her generally epic encyclopedic knowledge of cheese, through to her love of Joan Didion, there’s definitely something about Tenaya Darlington, that we find irresistible. We chatted with Tenaya, AKA Madame Fromage, The Cheese Courtesan, about life, cheese soirees, and her new book: Di Bruno Bros. House of Cheese: A Guide to Wedges, Recipes and Pairings.

Check out the full interview!

Arkansas Legalizes Raw Milk Sales

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Via RealMilk.com, Arkansas has now legalized on-farm sales of raw cow and goat milk:

Beginning in July 2013, Arkansas farms will be allowed to sell up to 500 gallons of unpasteurized cow milk per month, and up to 500 gallons of unpasteurized goat milk per month, directly to consumers. It will still be illegal to sell unpasteurized milk at farmers markets or other retail outlets. Under the new law, farmers will be required to post a sign on the farm and label unpasteurized products with a standardized label noting that the milk is unpasteurized. Neither the farm nor the cows will be inspected by the state, and the buyer assumes all liability should any health problems arise from consuming the raw milk.

This new law is not only exciting for the consumers who rely on raw milk’s nutrients for health benefits, but also for the farmers who see economic opportunity in taking advantage of the emerging raw milk market – raw milk often sells for $6-$8 per gallon. As the market continues to evolve and more farms begin to offer unpasteurized products, it will be interesting to see where costs stabilize and how farms brand themselves to stand out from the herd.

Read the full story.

(Photo ©2013 Arkansas Democrat-Gazette)

U Bel Fiuritu, a semi-firm, washed-rind sheep’s milk cheese, is made by the Pierucci family of cheesemakers of Sarl Fromagerie Pierrucci, in the Casinca region of Corsica. Run by 4th-generation cheesemaker Michel Pierucci, the fromagerie collects the milk of as many as 80 farms in the region, transforming them into their line of cheeses, both traditional recipes and new interpretations of Corsican classics. I previously reviewed their A Casinca, a washed-rind goat’s milk cheese. 

The name, U Bel Fiuritu, means “Small, Beautiful Flower”, and the ewes, grazing on the scrubby, redolent “Maquis” of the Corsican hillsides, imbue the milk with a wonderful herbal fragrance. The amber-red rind is frosted with patches of white mold, sticky and a bit gritty from regular washes during the 4-10 week aging. The paste is white in the center turning ivory towards the rind, scattered with small eyes. 

The creamy, rich paste is complex in flavor, milky, herbaceous, sweet and nutty, sheepy and meaty and with a wonderful pungent bite and spice. This is a cheese that becomes exponentially stinkier the longer it ages: this wheel was near the sweet spot, still a bit firm at the center but ripening inwards, strong in aroma but well-balanced in flavor and with a mild finish. 

Purchased at Formaggio Essex.

High-res The Salt: Tiny Mites Spark Big Battle Over Imports Of French Cheese NPR’s The Salt blog delves into the FDA’s current efforts to make a mountain of a mite hill in their patently ridiculous ban on Mimolette:  The Food and Drug Administration is currently embroiled in a surprisingly heated culinary standoff — pitting French cheese-makers (and American cheese-lovers) against regulators, all because of one very small problem: cheese mites. Cheese mites are microscopic little bugs that live on the surfaces of aged cheeses, munching the microscopic molds that grow there. For many aged cheeses, they’re something of an industry nuisance, gently brushed off the cheeses. But for Mimolette, a bright orange French cheese, they’re actually encouraged. The mites munch on the rind for a few years and then are removed — usually with a blast of compressed air and a bit of hand-brushing — before Mimolette is sold. But there are always a few hiding behind. And now the FDA is cracking down. According to the FDA’s Patricia El-Hinnawy, there’s no official limit, but the target is no more than six mites per square inch. For Mimolette, that’s a near impossible standard. But in the 21st century, do we need a cheese ban? Microbiologist Rachel Dutton runs a cheese lab at Harvard University, and we checked in with her about the dangers of mites. Dutton notes that there have been some reports of mite allergies, but they seem to be restricted to people who have come into contact with large numbers of mites. “Cheese is absolutely alive,” Dutton laughs. And all of that life — the molds, bacteria, yeasts and mites — help make cheese what it is. Dutton says that the mites on Mimolette can contribute flavors of their own (they have a somewhat earthy smell), and by eating into the rind, they can also increase aeration — and the surface area in which the other microbes can do their work. Dutton understands that this doesn’t sound appealing, but implores people to realize the good work of these bugs. “There definitely are microbes that can spoil food and make either it bad for you to eat or just sort of gross. But any time you eat a piece of cheese or a bite of yogurt, have a piece of bread or a glass of wine — these are all examples of foods fermented by different types of microbes.” Read the full story or listen to the broadcast here.  (Photo ©2013 NPR.org)

The Salt: Tiny Mites Spark Big Battle Over Imports Of French Cheese

NPR’s The Salt blog delves into the FDA’s current efforts to make a mountain of a mite hill in their patently ridiculous ban on Mimolette: 

The Food and Drug Administration is currently embroiled in a surprisingly heated culinary standoff — pitting French cheese-makers (and American cheese-lovers) against regulators, all because of one very small problem: cheese mites.

Cheese mites are microscopic little bugs that live on the surfaces of aged cheeses, munching the microscopic molds that grow there. For many aged cheeses, they’re something of an industry nuisance, gently brushed off the cheeses. But for Mimolette, a bright orange French cheese, they’re actually encouraged.

The mites munch on the rind for a few years and then are removed — usually with a blast of compressed air and a bit of hand-brushing — before Mimolette is sold. But there are always a few hiding behind. And now the FDA is cracking down.

According to the FDA’s Patricia El-Hinnawy, there’s no official limit, but the target is no more than six mites per square inch. For Mimolette, that’s a near impossible standard.

But in the 21st century, do we need a cheese ban? Microbiologist Rachel Dutton runs a cheese lab at Harvard University, and we checked in with her about the dangers of mites. Dutton notes that there have been some reports of mite allergies, but they seem to be restricted to people who have come into contact with large numbers of mites.

“Cheese is absolutely alive,” Dutton laughs. And all of that life — the molds, bacteria, yeasts and mites — help make cheese what it is. Dutton says that the mites on Mimolette can contribute flavors of their own (they have a somewhat earthy smell), and by eating into the rind, they can also increase aeration — and the surface area in which the other microbes can do their work.

Dutton understands that this doesn’t sound appealing, but implores people to realize the good work of these bugs. “There definitely are microbes that can spoil food and make either it bad for you to eat or just sort of gross. But any time you eat a piece of cheese or a bite of yogurt, have a piece of bread or a glass of wine — these are all examples of foods fermented by different types of microbes.”

Read the full story or listen to the broadcast here. 

(Photo ©2013 NPR.org)

NYT: A Cheese Shop in a Slim Crown Heights Space Wedge, the newest cheese shop in Brooklyn, gets a visit from the New York Times Diners Journal, who also include a shout-out to our friends at Edgwick Farm (see my Edgwick visit here): The new cheese shop in Crown Heights may be called Wedge, but Sliver would be more like it. The owners of the narrow but well-equipped storefront, Kate Blumm and Michael de Zayas, have done their homework. And with the expertise of Lilith Spencer, who had been at Bklyn Larder, the cheese and provisions shop, they are stocking their bright little place with some real finds. Among them are a goat’s milk ricotta from Edgwick Farm in Cornwall, N.Y.; a couple of tommes from the Kokoborrego Cheese Company in Mount Gilead, Ohio; and an organic Parmigiano-Reggiano from Italy. They also carry pistachios and almonds from Sicily, a mead vinegar from Italy, breads from Bien Cuit in Brooklyn, and a sweet white miso made in Conway, Mass. Charcuterie is sliced on what Ms. Spencer says is the Rolls-Royce of slicing machines; Wedge, 728 Franklin Avenue (Sterling Place), Crown Heights, Brooklynwedgeonfranklin@gmail.com, facebook.com/wedgeonfranklin. (Photo ©2013 New York Times)

NYT: A Cheese Shop in a Slim Crown Heights Space

Wedge, the newest cheese shop in Brooklyn, gets a visit from the New York Times Diners Journal, who also include a shout-out to our friends at Edgwick Farm (see my Edgwick visit here):

The new cheese shop in Crown Heights may be called Wedge, but Sliver would be more like it. The owners of the narrow but well-equipped storefront, Kate Blumm and Michael de Zayas, have done their homework. And with the expertise of Lilith Spencer, who had been at Bklyn Larder, the cheese and provisions shop, they are stocking their bright little place with some real finds. Among them are a goat’s milk ricotta from Edgwick Farm in Cornwall, N.Y.; a couple of tommes from the Kokoborrego Cheese Company in Mount Gilead, Ohio; and an organic Parmigiano-Reggiano from Italy. They also carry pistachios and almonds from Sicily, a mead vinegar from Italy, breads from Bien Cuit in Brooklyn, and a sweet white miso made in Conway, Mass. Charcuterie is sliced on what Ms. Spencer says is the Rolls-Royce of slicing machines;

Wedge,
728 Franklin Avenue (Sterling Place),
Crown Heights, Brooklyn
wedgeonfranklin@gmail.com, facebook.com/wedgeonfranklin.

(Photo ©2013 New York Times)

This gooey, fluffy ball is the Saint Nuage, a cow’s milk triple-creme from acclaimed French affineur Hervé Mons. “Nuage” actually means “cloud” in french, so this is the “Saint Cloud”, an appropriate name when you experience the texture.

The St. Nuage is a cow’s milk triple-creme, made by a Burgundy cheesemaker, and affinaged in the famous Mons tunnels before being sold exclusively through Whole Foods. I’m not sure if this is actually the first one, but I don’t recall seeing Mons cheeses with custom packaging and the Hervé Mons logo prominently displayed prior to this, at least on this side of the pond. I’ll certainly keep my eyes peeled for others. 

When warmed to room temperature, the St. Nuage is almost unmanageably soft and must be moved with care lest the skin tear open in your hands. The rind, butter-yellow with a thin white mold layer, rippled and puckered, opens to reveal an incredibly gooey, delicate interior, the texture almost whipped in consistency. If you’ve ever baked a cake, the texture is kind of like the room temperature butter after sixty seconds of creaming, it’s that soft and fluffy; pretty impressive for an aged cheese — albeit briefly aged from what I can tell.

The flavor is mild but intensely buttery and rich, milky, a little tangy, with hints of mushroom, a nice salt balance, the paste melting in your mouth. Terms like “decadent” tend to be abused in the cheese world (including, admittedly, by yours truly), but this is a cheese that truly deserves that descriptor. I usually prefer my cheese neat, no bread or crackers, but this is a cheese that is tailor-made for slathering on a crusty baguette or with fruit. This is not a challenging or complex cheese, but it definitely puts the “creme” in triple creme. 

BBC: Village of Stilton cannot make “Stilton”

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The BBC reports that the village of Stilton has lost their appeal to make name-controlled Stilton: 

Stilton cheese has traditionally been made in three East Midland counties who have protection over the product name, but a Cambridgeshire village wants to be able to make the cheese that bears its name.

Shailesh Vara MP claimed those making the cheese today in Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire were “new boys”, and he pointed to documents dating back to 1722 to support the Cambridgeshire cause of his constituents.

But Stilton Cheesemakers’ Association chairman Nigel White reckoned there had been no stilton been made in the Cambridgeshire village for 200 years.

Labour MP Alan Johnson tasted both versions to see which was better, but decided he could not tell them apart, after the panel watched a Daily Politics film on food and town labelling.

High-res This little crottin resembles some of the classic goat’s milk cheeses of the Loire Valley, but actually hails from Kempense Geitenkaas, a creamery in Lichtaart, Belgium, north of Antwerp in the region of Flanders. Paul D’Haene and Veerle Minsaer have been making cheese since 1979, focusing on goat, in country that is known almost exclusively for its cow’s milk cheeses (the trappist style cheeses being the best known, such as the Le Charmoix, recently reviewed). Paul even says that “the goat is the cow of the poor farmer”, but there’s nothing impoverished about the cheeses that he’s making with their milk.  The aged 5oz crottin has a textured, stony amber exterior, opening to reveal a chalky white interior, the paste creamy and fudgy with a bit more proteolysis at the rind. The aroma is yeasty and fruity; the flavor is milky and bright with citrus notes and a distinct sour, tangy, overtone.  Purchased at Formaggio Essex.

This little crottin resembles some of the classic goat’s milk cheeses of the Loire Valley, but actually hails from Kempense Geitenkaas, a creamery in Lichtaart, Belgium, north of Antwerp in the region of Flanders. Paul D’Haene and Veerle Minsaer have been making cheese since 1979, focusing on goat, in country that is known almost exclusively for its cow’s milk cheeses (the trappist style cheeses being the best known, such as the Le Charmoix, recently reviewed). Paul even says that “the goat is the cow of the poor farmer”, but there’s nothing impoverished about the cheeses that he’s making with their milk. 

The aged 5oz crottin has a textured, stony amber exterior, opening to reveal a chalky white interior, the paste creamy and fudgy with a bit more proteolysis at the rind. The aroma is yeasty and fruity; the flavor is milky and bright with citrus notes and a distinct sour, tangy, overtone. 

Purchased at Formaggio Essex.

Boston Globe: Tasting Quebec Cheeses At Their Source

Quebec is producing many great cheeses these days, including a wider variety of raw milk cheeses thanks to provincial laws that are closer to those of Europe. I tasted some great ones at last year’s ACS Conference in Raleigh, and Quebec makers took home multiple ribbons. The Boston Globe went on a driving tour of the Quebec Cheese trail:

In Saint-Lambert, a Montreal suburb, Max Dubois runs L’Échoppe des Fromages, the back full of mix-matched chairs and tables. Cappuccinos come with a tower of foam mounded several inches high.

Trained in theater and sociology, Dubois sang loudly and well as he chose a record for the stereo, and before joining us greeted his early morning customers by name. “Always we had a mission,” he said, “to educate everybody … and explain the importance of eating true cheese.”

“A true cheese for me, it’s a farmer cheese … when the same producers control the cow, the goat or the sheep, the milk, and the production of cheese, and the affinage, the old-fashioned aging. And they control the market.”

Dubois is known as a proponent of Quebec’s raw milk cheeses, a position of politics as much as taste. Raw milk cheeses are favorites in Quebec, but with two listeria outbreaks (one tied directly to Quebec-made cheese) in the past five years, they’ve come under significant scrutiny.

Dubois is still a champion. “It’s better for everything,” he said. “For the economy, for the family, for society, and for the heart. We have true bacterias. For me it’s the taste of terroir. Of the country. We could have a cheese in each place in the country, and each cheese would be different.”

Fromageries are plotted as points on the map, but there is no one road that connects them. Some points denote shops, others factories. We planned for trial and error.

Our first day we made three stops: a highly-regarded organic creamery, a monastery that sold cheese out of the basement, and the home of a bemused homesteader who told us, from his front porch, that he’d given up cheese making years ago. “These days I make beer,” he said.

The second day, we managed six, starting with Fromagerie La Station. La Station is one of the best known creameries in the province. Though chiefly involved in wholesaling, the farm has a nice roomy shop with its cheeses and other local goods for sale.

Driving to each cheese maker is an incredibly inefficient way to taste cheeses. En route, we pulled up to an enormous factory and into the headquarters of a local producer that was also, inexplicably, a poutine-pedaling fast food establishment. If it were just cheese we had wanted, we could have stayed in the city. At the cheese shops in Montreal and Quebec City we met many helpful, friendly, and generous cheesemongers happy to share their wares and their knowledge.

But visiting the cheese makers added a dimension beyond nose or texture. Dubois had said that cheese was an expression of identity in Quebec, but the reverse was also true. Driving the lanes, watching the land change from hills to pastures, turning around in lakeside driveways, pointing out houses of unbelievably perfect proportions, all of this mattered. Even metal-clad barns standing almost like sculpture in the fields can be thought of as elements of terroir, and these made the drive all the more worthwhile.

Read the full story.

(Photo ©2013 Boston Globe)