The past few days have felt like a week and a half, they have been so full of family events. I met my brother at the Portland, Maine airport in the middle of the night, and we drove up to Belfast to celebrate the life and remember the love my grandmother had for all of us and we for her at a lovely memorial service. It was the first time the whole family has been together in longer than any of us could figure out, so it served as a family reunion as well.
My brother and I rented a cottage at the same complex where we stayed as kids, skipping rocks down by the shore and chasing lightening bugs. A little sentimentality is appropriate at times like this. Unlike when we were kids, however, we were able to stop at the grocery store to pick up a six pack of beer, a bottle of decent Pinot Grigot and, of course, some cheese and crackers! As you know, I'm always a little leery of grocery store cheese, but with a little snooping, I found something fun. Seal Cove Farm herbed chevre from Lamoine, Maine. Local and tasty! Good thing too, because our cottage turned into the afterparty spot after dinner on Thursday night for the cousins and a few aunts and uncles. Serious props to my brother for getting the fire going in the stove. You warded off the chill and made things just a little more cozy.
It was a little tough to open the package with the giant ginsu knife that we found in the drawer at the cabin, but once it was open, almost everyone was nibbling. This cheese, from Seal Cove Farm near Bar Harbor, which comes from the 125 goats that happily grazing on the rocky coast was perfect for the party. It is flavored with herbes de provence, and while it tastes like there is garlic in the mix, there isn't. The little bit of tang from the goat's milk combined with the herbs just bring out this great blend of flavors. It's not a really complicated cheese, but since most of the relatives aren't really aware of my serious obsession with the curd, it's probably better that I didn't have a cheese soapbox to lecture from during the party. What a drag that would have been. Instead, we just had some laughs, and shared some great stories, and got to know each other again with a little cheese and wine to lubricate the love.
By the time everyone left and my brother and I were alone with our jet lag and a serious game of Crazy Eights, almost all the cheese was gone. We took care of that pretty well.
The next day we gathered at the hillside cemetery to say goodbye to Gram, with the sun shining down and the wildflowers blooming across the way. It was a beautiful service, and we all came together with love for her and for each other. I think she would have approved.
As the weather changes and the sun stays out longer, my tastes spin toward Sauvignon Blanc, Stainless Steel Charddonay and goat cheese. It's kind of a cliche, but it's how my palate and brain work. Crisp, clean flavors help keep summer from getting too funky (though some might argue that goat cheese is funky enough...). Another thing I love about summer is the Farmer's Market. Around here, it's open all year round, but there is something much more festive about buying apricots and fava beans than rutabega and turnips.
So, the last time I went to the Farmer's Market with my re-usable bag and steel toed boots to protect myself from the profusion of strollers, I stopped by the Redwood Hill Farm stall and picked up a hockey puck sized Camembert style goat cheese named Camellia. The dairy is up in Sebastopol (far from Los Angeles), but I got a chance to talk with a few people who had just been up at the farm to see the new kids. I really got a sense that they really care for their herd, who all have names.
Camellia is one of their favorite goats, and the cheese certainly looks like a Camembert (other than the goat on the label). The bloomy rind has the appropriate ammonia-lite scent, and there is a milky-ness to the nose of the paste. What's different is the bone white color of the paste - normal for goat cheese but weird if you are expecting the butter yellow paste of a traditional Camembert. The flavor has a wee bit of goat-y funk, but really it just tastes sweet and creamy with just a touch of salty. Pretty fantastic! We tasted ours when the cheese was still young, but it still had a nice richness to it, though it didn't ever get really gooey even when we let it set at room temp for over an hour, but it did get nicely soft. This cheese has won several gold medals at competitions, so other people think it's good too!
I saw this for sale up in Santa Barbara wine country at the local market, and I'll be enjoying it again the next time I head to the Farmer's Market during my continued celebration of longer days and warmer nights!
Science Monday has become Science Tuesday this week due to a last-ish minute trip to the beautiful Santa Barbara wine country. If you'll remember, last Monday, I began a quest to reproduce the bacteria found in the fabulous Vendeen Bichonne. I swiped a precious piece of this cheese across a petri dish and waited. And waited, and waited. And then...attack of the killer mold!!! I must say I was impressed with the miniature world I had created. I had the Professor look at my civilization, and he helped me realize that I've actually created two separate worlds - one of bacteria and one of mold. The big blue-ish and white fuzzy circles are the mold and the smaller dots are bacteria. The Professor recommended that while mold is an important part of the cheesemaking process, it might be a little more volatile than I am scientifically prepared to manage. He did suggest that I try and grow the bacteria a little more, by transferring it to a clean petri dish with a (scrupulously clean - ha!) toothpick and waiting (again!) to get a little more bacterial growth.
Hopefully, in another week, my bacteria universe will be teaming with life!
I love goat cheese. Not only is their cheese delicious, smooth, tangy and complex, goats are just darn cute! And if I can find a goat cheese that also falls into the category of "spreadable" as defined by Darling Husband as something gooey that won't break your cracker when you try to spread it, I buy a lot of it. A few weeks ago, my friend Andrew - cheese monger extraordinare - gave me a taste of Carre de Poitou a soft, spreadable Loire Valley goat cheese that some might consider part of the second coming. I try to have a little restraint when tasting cheeses at Andrew's, but in this case, I found myself licking the paste right off the paper so as to get every last little bit! This rare square (carre is French for square) is the perfect cheese to get any party started. It is both sweet and tangy, and it's bloomy rind makes it a great brie substitute for anyone with cow's milk allergies. But don't tell your guests that it's a brie. This cheese doesn't have the unctuous creaminess of brie nor the ivory paste. This is a bright white goat's milk cheese with a soft, edible rind and an almost milky interior. See how it's starting to run after 10 minutes? Andrew actually sent it home with an ice pack. That's how sensitive this lovely is.
I'd love to have a picture of it at full "run," but DH had gobbled most of it before it was fully ready even though I told him he would be able to taste even more of the fresh grassy flavor if he waited. There were (miraculously) a few leftovers, which he enjoyed as part of a very upscale grilled cheese a few days later. Look how sad the dog is that he won't be getting any of that cheesy goodness literally sliding off the bread in it's melty quest for greatness. I didn't get any of these cheesy canapes either, though DH was kind enough to let me take a photo before he snuck out to the "man cave" to inhale his snack while muttering like Golem about his precious cheese.
If you are lucky enough to find this cheese at your local shop, buy enough to share and enjoy with a nice crisp bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and good friends.
A while ago, the great state of Wisconsin voted to name Lactococcus Lactis that official state microbe in honor of all that it does in the production of cheese (according to the New York Times, Wisconsin leads the nation in cheese production). How great is that? A little weird, but pretty cool.
This got me thinking - there must be microscopic differences in the microbes that help various cheeses around the world make the transition from milk to fromage. Cheeses are all so unique - based on the type of milk used, what the animal was eating before being milked, what processes were used in making the cheese, what molds are introduces, how and where the cheese is aged. What if I could do my own research to discover the molds and microbes in my favorite cheeses? Ultimately, could I re-create famous cheeses in my kitchen? (Well, no, probably not, but still...maybe we could create something new from something old - a hybrid as it were) All I was lacking was a little equipment and know-how.
And then, I started talking with my friend the Professor, who has a PhD in biochemistry and a lab at CalTech. He didn't see how it could be that difficult, and encouraged me to start my little science experiment. So, last Friday, I visited his lab and returned home energized and with a bag full of petri dishes prepared with agar substrate to encourage bacterial growth. All I needed was the right test subject. Mwa ha ha ha!
I found it in an amazing Loire Valley cow's milk cheese - Vendeen Bichonne. This semi-soft cheese ( it will totally gum up your grater - so just eat giant hunks of it) is aged in an abandoned tunnel, which explains the mealy grey rind and industrial basement smell coming off of it. Don't let the outside fool you though. The paste inside is sweet, rich and creamy with just a hint of the green pastures where the cows graze. There is also an earthiness present in the cheese, but it doesn't taste anything like the rind smells. Maybe a little bit of slate - if you were to lick a wet slate paving stone it might taste a little like this, but only if the paving stone was covered in rich, creamy, sweet cheese. I can't say enough about how much I love this cheese. I want to melt it onto a nice piece of home made wheat bread and enjoy it with a glass of a Spanish Tempranillo. Bliss.
Anyway, in my attempt to harness to magic of this cheese, it became the first subject in my science experiment. As you can see, under completely sterile conditions, a small slice of cheese was rubbed onto the plate, which was then labeled and placed in a temperate, dry location in the kitchen (on top of the tortillas and next to the coffee maker). I can't wait to see what grows! Hopefully, there should be some results soon. The Professor has said that he might be able to help me take up close and personal pictures of my biological blooms. Looking forward to having something fun to share with you!
The raw milk controversy has been raging on the internet for a while now and the politicians are involved, so I'm sure there won't be a definitive answer for a while. Each state has its own regulations surrounding raw milk. Massachusetts allows people to buy raw milk only from the diary farm directly. Wisconsin just yesterday vetoed a bill that would permit similar farmer to consumer sales. In California, you can get raw milk in health food stores but it has to have a warning label. Alaska has banned raw milk for human consumption - unless you are getting it from your very own cow. You can see a list of state regulations here.
Why all the controversy? Certainly the locovore movement has had a lot to do with it, along with people wanting fewer preservatives, pesticides, etc. in their food. Small dairies are hoping for more leniency in order to improve their market share and promote their high quality products, while "big dairy" wants to keep the raw milk trend in check for more than medical reasons, and the government wants to keep people alive. Raw milk - milk that hasn't been through the pasturization process - is full of vitamins, minerals, enzymes and pro-biotics that are believed by many to help "cure" people with medical problems from asthma to acne. When milk is pasturized, or heated to 161 degrees F for at least 15 seconds, any bad microorganisims and bacteria present in the milk are killed, along with many of the healthy probiotics and enzymes. In large scale milk production, milk from many farms is dumped together into vats, and it is always possible that nasties like sallmonella or listeria can get into the milk when a worker forgets to wash his hands, or something dirty falls into the vat, and it would be passed along to consumers if it wasn't pasteurized. Salmonella has been in the press a lot lately thanks to spinach, etc., and pregnant women in particular need to be aware of listeria which has been known to cause stillbirth. All of the bacteria affiliated with raw milk cause severe intestinal distress, some can cause paralysis, and they can all be particularly dangerous to kids, the elderly and people with weakened immune systems. It can be really bad. Luckily (and a main part of the raw milk argument), this isn't the case with small dairies where farmers name their cows, let them eat delicious, nutritious grass and flowers and a whole lot of love goes into each milking.
Many of the world's great cheeses are made with raw milk. Some say that cheese made with pasteurized milk lacks essential flavor, or oomph. If you taste a grocery store cheddar and compare it with a Isle of Mull cheddar, for example, you will probably agree. The grocery store stuff starts tasting a little bit like orange rubber. Yum. In fact, if you visit the Isle of Mull Cheese website, you will find the following quote: "We believe pasteurisation to be unnecessarily brutal way of treating milk to be used in making Isle of Mull Cheese. Far too many of those organisms, which have the potential to create individualism and maturity of flavour are indiscriminately sacrificed in the process."
All raw milk cheeses imported to the US are all over 60 days old, which gives the any listeria (not likely) present the opportunity to die. It is an anarobic bacteria, and thus can't survive beyond 45-ish days outside the milk pail. In addition, raw milk cheeses (both in the US and abroad) are almost always made by small producers who name and love their small dairy herds and keep scrupulously clean facilities and detailed records, so chances of bacteria in the milk are limited. Take, for example, the beautiful Avonlea Cheddar below - raw milk, aged and delicious. If you are still worried, cheese makers and dairy farmers have been making great strides in a lower heat, longer cooking time pasteurization technique that retains more flavor in much safer milk.
The argument is that if you want to buy and drink raw milk for its medicinal properties, and are smart enough to buy it from a reputable, clean-as-a-whistle dairy that produces on a small scale, you should be able to do what you want, so long as you don't sue if you knowingly choose raw milk and something bad happens. I'm not sure where I fall in this debate. Kind of like a Oiji board, I don't really believe the drama, but I don't know if I really want to mess with it either. I do know that I am not one to turn down a cheese regardless of it's pasteurized status. At the end, it's all about personal choice (and your state's desire to protect your gullet).
So there's your cheese politics for the day. I'd love to see (polite) thoughts and dialogue to follow!
My birthday was a while back. As crazy as life was that month, I still needed to celebrate, and I wanted cheese! Getting to Andrew's for my weekly fix had been elusive and what better excuse than a birthday! I was going to need to share my cheese "cake" with others that afternoon, so I thought it might be a little dangerous to bring out the stinky blue cheeses or some muenster. One needs to gently help people toward a love of the more "black diamond" cheeses.
I didn't have to think about it very long before realizing that Mt. Townshend Creamery'sSeastack was the perfect cheese "cake" to share. With a circumference a bit bigger than a hockey puck and about twice as thick (if my early memories of what the shape of a hockey puck is are correct), Seastack is the perfect size to share (or horde to yourself...).
Because of it's rind, it looks a lot like brie, which makes it accessible to those without a lot of cheese experience, but the similarity ends with the visual. This edible rind is a result of rolling the cheese in vegetable ash and salt before the aging process as opposed to the bloomy bacterial rind on brie. The folks at Mt. Townshend say the rind bears a "subtle resemblance to the picturesque islands sprinkled along Washington's northwest coast." Reason enough to visit, I say. The paste is rich and creamy, with a hint of sweet pasture and just enough saltiness to encourage you to grab a glass of crisp glass of Pinot Grigio. Just look at the fantastic goo seeping out of the rind! It spreads beautifully on a cracker, and would probably go well with apples or pears if you had them cut in advance. Wait until after people have had a taste, and there won't be any left by the time the wedges are ready!
This is my new go-to cheese. Not only did I have it for my birthday, I've taken it to a baby shower with great success. Ask for it by name.
