Stinking Gifts

Yesterday we received a gift of cheese.  A 1/2 pound piece of Matias Serra da Estrela.  This PDO cheese hales from Portugal, and is made from sheep milk.   This is a stinker!  What utterly impressed me was the stinking experience that reverberated from aroma to the last swallow.  Many stinkers nash their teeth on the table, only to transform into velvety gentleness in the mouth.

Matias Serra da Estrela- Eagle view

Often a subject of delight, confusion, psychic depth, and hilarity-- these cheeses get one thinking about our attraction to thinks that smell, well, bad.  Surely books have been written.  I do think that some (many?) people are repulsed by these cheeses, no matter how you engage them.  Others are curious but never come to enjoy the experience.  

Matias Serra da Estrela- sneaking up view

But to speak to the existence of an enthralled group-- what attracts to something that smells like ruminant feces?  It might be daredevil  mentality-- the thrill of nastiness.  I prefer this explanation-- there is something beautiful, sensuous, and vital about experiencing something that is almost one thing and yet not.  Akin to what thrills when confronted with Magritte's Treachery of Images?   Have I gone too far?  

This cheese appears rather banal.  A simple dry rind, and pale super supple, almost molten paste.  But smell the rind and it is EXACTLY cow dung.  Amazing.  The paste is sticky in hand and fills the mouth like a slow tsunami-- cow dung still, and then bolts of camphor and waves of grain. Rx: for dysthymia-- you will regain vitalness in three chews.   I couldn't imagine what would happen with honey.  I think the palate would fall off the edge.  

This will seem an afterthought-- but a truly gorgeous, silky, robust, and mouthy goat cheese in 

Le Cornilly Afiinée

Le Cornilly Affinée.  Too easy to eat.  We tried with my honeys, but none made the cheese sing.  Enjoy with others and play something you can dance to.  Rx: when you need to rejoice.  

Failure

What is it when confidence gets shaken?  What's more, what is it with hubris one didn't even know one had?

Torre Bianca Leccino

This past weekend we wanted to make ricotta (some would say I was making farmer's cheese-- but from my snooping around the internet, I think few people are coagulating whey these days).  Easy enough-- most recipes have <5 ingredients and only few simple steps.  I used Melissa Clark's from the NYT.  Easy peasy.  I'd bring my fresh ricotta to a casual dinner party doused in ridiculously grassy olive with a prolonged peppery finish (Torre Bianca Leccino-- from Corti Brothers-- check it out-- worth the mini splurge-- photo is meant to entice with its unusual composition) and a little something herby and green.

I boiled and boiled and boiled that f&^&%#' milky mixture for 30 minutes--- no curdle.  I was dizzy with rage and disbelief-- vaguely.   And it stung.  There it was--- a failure.  I might have poured the mix down the drain and flopped onto the couch.  Instead I poured myself an early glass of wine and bopped around to Robyn.

'butter' trying to drain

The lesson emerged.  Life isn't just about the end product. Its what you learn, its the process...yes, sure.  It is also about curiosity.  I turned to the milk section in my Harold McGee and started to read.  And I left the ricotta mixture out to cool.  Sure enough, the proteins coagulated enough 3-4 hours later to pull off a reasonable, if cooked tasting, ricotta.  Later, I was talking with a cheese scientist, and she pointed out that the lemon juice I had squeezed the week prior was perhaps not acidic enough.  It had tasted sour...then I found this old report that found citric acid is stable for 5 months under many conditions.  Perhaps it isn't so stable when it is dissolved in a complex mixture called lemon juice?  Perhaps it is the ascorbic acid, which I know is less stable... you can see where the curiosity can lead!

'butter' in cheese cloth

ricotta (left) and 'butter'

Feeling emboldened by my learning, I thought I'd use the heavy cream on hand for the ricotta to make butter.  I recall shaking cream in a glass container in first grade and in a matter of a minutes getting something that looked like butter.  in parallel fashion, I poured the cold cream into a square tupperware-type container, did some gentle shaking, and got... whipped cream.  These are simple procedures.  A second failure?! Indeed.

Perhaps I'd drain the cream--no liquid yield after 8 hours. In the end, it looked a lot like the ricotta, and hardly like butter.  I doubt you can tell which cracker is slathered with which product.  Ah well.  They tasted good enough, especially when drizzled with Shelburne honey, which has a bracing brightness and tang (see post on April 16 2012).

Shelburne honey

I aspire to continue channeling the curious.  Failure be damned!  (A neural array just tripped the following-- a wise person once said that the opposite of depression isn't happiness. It is vitality. Brilliant)  This is answer enough to the confidence concern.  I may get butter, I may not, but the mind and belly are better no matter what.

Dangerous Liaisons

Should you find yourself a little washed out, disillusioned, and bitter (this is never about me, btw...), one might be inclined to prepare comfort foods.  A fine choice.  But there is something better-- dangerous foods.  Nothing takes the drab out of the day as does an overwhelmingly lavish flavor or aroma, or a pairing that defies all description.  Delightful or repulsive or at best, both, these foods are meant to needle and jab at the senses.  I give you Marzolino al Tartufo and  Solmielato mieli di melata.  I will explain. 

Marzolino al Tartufo

Solmielato mieli di melata

Cheese purists are wary of  'composite cheeses'-- the added dried fruit or aromatic are often substantial flavors enough that they sideline the cheese.  But this is not always bad.  Hence, a turophile might have a secrete stash of Leiden or Grafton Sage Cheddar.   I have a special love for these cheeses for sure.  But then we come to Marzolino al Tartufo.    

A pasteurized sheep's milk cheese from Tuscany, it contains generous shavings of black truffle, Tuber melanosporum.  There is no way to resist expending a few lines on the truffle.  Alan Davidson (of Oxford Companion to Food fame) summarizes the truffle: 'a fungus whose fruiting body grows underground and which constitutes a mysterious, costly, and delicate foodstuff.' Indeed.  And the aroma. The aroma!  Musk and paprika come to mind.  Perhaps also a little bit of body odor? Surely that seems vaguely off-putting, but these kinds of flavors ride that edge.  And it is so heady-- you sense it in your mouth and nostrils, but even behind the eyes, like a fantastic headache.

What could sing with gutsy bravado alongside a back truffle?  Melata came to mind.  This honey derives from hives whose bees feed on tree sap instead of flower pollen.  Its flavor is reminiscent of molasses, but with spicy and even gentle licorice notes.  I had a variety from Italy-- Solmielato mieli di melata.  This honey, that cheese, one mouth-- I wasn't the only one (I tried it out at a dinner party for three) who felt the urge to to join a Dionysian frenzy.

A perfect antidote to work or personal blahs.  Watch that you don't over do it.  I don't have an antidote for that problem yet.  

Sharp

As these words appear on the screen, the temperature is rising in our house.   In Boston the temperature is going to surpass 80 degrees today, and the sun is shining brightly.  Welcome for sure as I look at the herb garden for signs of life.

Thus, the turophile in me contemplates the cool, young, and fresh, less the regal, timeless, and overly complex (yes people, we are talk cheeses here).  Why not start with the freshest stuff? Aside from ricotta, mozzarella, and mascarpone (which are often delicious and delicate), there is yogurt. Newly fermented and often times drained of liquid, yogurt can be gelatinous, runny, or when fatless, disemodied. But not yogurt from Sophias.

Sophia's yogurt

The full fat yogurt from Sophia's pantry (I get it at Sherman Market in Union Square) is something we've not seen before in these parts.  Luscious, tangy tangy sharp, substantial, and yet, for all that, it isn't heavy in the mouth.

Shelburne honey
enrobing Sophia's yogurt 

One way it works well is eaten drizzled with honey.  The honey needs to drizzle.  I chose honey from Shelburne Honey Company (didn't find a good website for them). Not only does it flow best, it has a brightness and juicy tang to  stand up to the yogurt.  This makes for a special dessert,  filling the mouth with sweetness, pucker, and a prolonged fruitiness.  I'd classify this compound as a stimulant.

A Saladini knife- for getting into aged hard
cheeses

I know one shouldn't covet. But even with all the cheese knives you know I have,  missing has been a beautiful instrument with which to get into the hardest cheeses.  And I haven't had a Saladini knife in my home before. It is graceful, honest, and really sharp. It has an olive wood handle.  It will now let me do my work with utmost precision.  I'd love to lend it out so you can see for yourselves. If we don't have a trusting relationship yet... you might have to leave a pinky toe, or a shoe.  

Honey Memories

This week I have indeed tasted and pondered honeys and cheeses.  Interesting that early memories of these foods easily has honey winning out.  True that I can remember feeling both embarrassed and thankful that my school lunch main was whole wheat bread, margarine schmear (Mazola tube of course), and a modest few slices of extra-sharp Cracker Barrel cheddar... but grander food memories in honey.  Grape-nuts are not typically considered a childhood cereal heavy hitter. Until you consider this process.

1. Pour cereal into a wide bowl and mound the nuts just so. 
2. COVER with liquid honey as best you can.  I used regular store honey. It has to flow easily.   
3. I don't know exactly how much honey I used.  Needless to say, some bites were more honey than cereal.
4. Carefully pour milk at edge of bowl and watch it rise to barely saturate the cereal. It must not cover. 
5. This is where the fun comes in.  I would imagine that beneath the pools of honey (which were transparent) were imperiled colonies of Grape-nuts kept dry by the honey.  If I could pick up the colonies on my spoon and convey to my mouth without disturbing the honey pool....the nuts would live.  If not...yes, mass milk drowning did befall some colonies, usually the ones I ate a few minutes into the process.  Sometimes there were sound effects.  

Does it get more exiting than that?!  The imaginations of school-agers.  

Now, to the current work!  

Gretta's Fair Haven

I paired an aged goat with a few different honeys.  Gretta's Fair Haven, a MA-based raw milk cheese, because it isn't all sprite and lemons-- chewy yet not dry, gentle citrus but also long notes of chestnut and minerals. It is a beautiful cheese-- velvet to the touch. The cheesemonger and I thought it would be a good start off cheese for this exploration.

Who knew how present honeys can be!   I tried two-- one I suspected would overwhelm, and one that seemed safe.

Arizona Rangeland Honey

The overwhelm: Arizona Rangeland Honey (item E in prior blog).  This honey which is sourced by an outfit near Boston is produced by Dee Lusby, in the Arizona dessert. Even when used sparingly, I tasted smokiness and molasses with a faint backdrop of mineral from the cheese.  I'd prescribe this combination for those that would like to assume a f%^$ it attitude.

Thyme wild flower honey, Api Pharm

The 'safe' choice was less so.  Thyme wild flower honey comes from Greece (G in prior blog, purchased at Follow the Honey- can't rave enough about them!). The herb notes in the honey didn't quiet easily.  I felt angry and then silly.  The jury is still out.  Sidle up yourselves and let me know what you get.

I propose some changes for the future with these honey-cheese flights. I'll be using much smaller amounts to start, and perhaps use a honey carrier-medium to extend the lower decibel notes. Perhaps....softened unsalted butter!

So Much Sweetness

I am in the middle of a project tasting honeys and figuring out what cheeses attract or repulse.  The honey kick got started in me because carbs in general are getting kicked around.  Honey being almost exclusively carb, I'm for standing by what is worth fighting for in this broad category. Hoping to learn more about honey by attending a class tomorrow at Follow the Honey, featuring local honey expert Mike Graney.  I have amassed a small collection of honeys, spanning the flavor palate from gentle flowers to abrasive, shot through with minerals and just shy of burnt carmel. I am in the midst of learning more about them!

The rundown: A local honey 'on tap' (really-- open the tap and take what you want) from Follow the Honey. I'd say robust flowers, nicely fluid; B Rough Honey from Mike Graney. I love this honey, with gentle sweetness and little bits of wax to chew on after; C Mieli di Alta Montagna Valle Maira. Must be from a perfect narrow valley in Northern Italy.  Opaque, subtle, a little underwhelming;  D Solmielato mieli di melata. Crazy stuff. Bees harvesting sap and not flower nectar. Like molasses but with a vague funk; E Arizona Rangeland Honey from Dee Lusby. What a find!  Endless layers of taste.  Semi-molten texture;  F  The Shelburne Honey Co. Nicely liquid, bright and tangy; G Thyme wild flower from Api Pharm, Greece.  Thyme is grand, but I most love the texture- between liquid and crystal phases... in my cupboard anyway! H Bouchet Sofia acacia con petali di rosa canina.  Wow.  Velvet roses in the mouth.  

Hudson Valley Camembert
 (oblique view)

Hudson Valley Camembert

How about a cheese? I bring you  Hudson Valley Camembert.  I have passed it by many times. Inner snob voice: 'an American Camembert?  Ce n'est pas possible!'  And yet, it is.  This is triple cream Camembert.  It may lack the complex mushroom/barnyard funk of French Camembert, but the mouth appeal and creaminess... I'd prescribe this cheese in two situations.  You've had a bad day, you need an hour to yourself.  Take a hot shower, snag this cheese, a fresh bit of baguette, a glass of something bubbly, and work slowly while listening to Carmina Burana.  This segues into the next possibility.  Aphrodisiac city.  Endless possibilities here.  Let me know what you come up with.

Spring missive

Hello folks (all fifteen of you!)-- i am committing to a weekend post weekly starting now.  Might not always be arresting and revolutionary.

Some discoveries and observations that have accumulated these past several weeks:

1. Cheese and honey-- I think this is an undersubscribed combination.  We try to find the right fresh fruit to go with our cheeses, and we do better when we make a marriage using dried fruit (stronger, tarter, sweeter...). Now bring in intense sweetness, overlays of flowers, burnt sugar, earth...why not try to pair such notes with cheese? A colleague I recently met at work described his 'other life' tending to bees and producing honey near Boston, MA.  Mystery and history surround this delicious substance, and now I have several jars in my cupboard.  Health claims swarm around honey--- recently negative with respect to the fructose load.  Don't fear, unless you plan on eating it by the tablespoon full.   Subsequent posts I'll feature notes on particular pairings.

A detail from my cheese spread sheet- only three in February but 11
in March-- so far!

Bleu du Bocage- not a great picture of the rind and the paste deep to it. 

Vaquero Blue- this I liked with many a honey.

2. March cheese experiences- March has been a good month for 'getting my numbers' but not taking detailed notes-- its been busy okay! Therapeutic cheeses aside, two have stood out-- two blues in fact.  One from Willow Hill Farm called Vaquero Blue. Gorgeous from rind to paste, all edible, and flavors that span from stewed prune to dark chocolate. Another is Bleu du Bocage, a knock out goat blue from the Loire Valley. Juicy, prolonged unpretentious flavors of rose, camphor and honey, with the veins offering just enough spice kick.

Culture magazine Spring 2012 centerfold!

3. Culture Magazine faves-- not too many magazines devoted to cheese and its enjoyment.  What I like about Culture Magazine best?  The cheese centerfold- naked!

4. Mystery symptom-- speaking of tomme-style cheeses, my partner's cousin contacted me with a curious symptom.  He is a chef, and his restaurant features any number of artisan cheeses.  Whenever he tastes tomme-style cheeses (Tomme de Savoie and the like) he gets an itchy tongue.  Let me know what you think, and how you would approach diagnosing the problem!