The Huntsman- the baby bear of cheese

Alan and I hovered over the cheese counter in El Rancho Marketplace for much too long yesterday, trying to choose a cheese might be interesting and also delicious. We wanted to buy one of each delicious little wedge in the counter, since we've been cheeseless for 2 weeks, but we finally walked out with only a handful of cheeses.  Yes, a handful. We downsized to a handful. I think we need some help with the decisionmaking process.

So which beautiful gems du fromage did we walk out with? A couple french ones that you'll just have to wait for (oooo suspense!) and a blended cheese called The Huntsman. Yep. I didn't make that up, it's really a cheese that has a hearty, masculine nickname... it cracked me up. And from that you'd think it would look dark and earthy, with chunks of something manly like pot roast in it or something. Well, no. Honestly, this cheese looks kind of awkward, and you know me, I think the awkward things are always the cutest, and those are the ones I bring home. Here's what it looks like:

The Huntsman is a blend of Double Gloucester and Blue Stilton, from Long Clawson Dairy in Leicestershire, England. Long Clawson was started in 1911 (that's a century of cheesemaking!) and is renowned for its Stilton. What a lucky find! They specialize in Stiltons, making many types and flavors of it as well as creating unique blends with other cheeses and fruits. Genius! Steve Jenkins actually mentions them in The Cheese Primer as one of the 4 (that's right, 4) excellent Stilton makers in the world. So if you see Clawson Stilton, pick some up. Here's their website: Long Clawson Dairy

Let's get back to The Huntsman. It has alternating stripes of the bright orange Double Gloucester and the white and blue from the Stilton, so it is a bright, colorful cheese. Clawson dairy takes the whole traditional wheel of Double Gloucester and slices it, alternates the slices with hand formed slices of it's famous Blue Stilton, and creates a new wheel of The Huntsman. They have also trademarked this cheese, so you know you're getting the real thing when you see it. Since this is the first time we've had either Double Gloucester or Blue Stilton, we decided to try them separately and then together to get the full effect.

First, the DG. Like I said, it's bright orange (probably dyed for the "cheddar" effect - see note below) and firm, just a bit softer than cheddar. Double Gloucester is traditionally a whole milk farmhouse cheese, made from milk from 2 different milkings (the evening of day 1 and the morning of day 2).  At first I thought it was a variety of cheddar, but it's not. It's its own cheese, but it is often compared to cheddar - probably because cheddar is nearly universally recognizable, and they have a lot of similarities. Honestly, I agree with Steve Jenkins that it is a little bland, like very mild cheddar. Not much attitude, not much to remember.  Alan and I noticed that it did have a tremendously bitter aftertaste, which totally overpowered its mild, mellow flavor.

Now for the Stilton. Stilton is England's only name-protected cheese, so you know it's authentic. It appears as a traditional blue cheese, with fuzzy specks of the roqueforti mold throughout. Its smell hit me like a truck - like rank dirty feet - and Alan went nuts for it. He described it as "strong and sweet- a mix of cherries and dirty socks." Yuck! I could barely get the stuff in my mouth, I was gagging so badly. The bite was so strong and sour, and it lingered in my mouth for much too long. I kept trying to identify this flavor that Alan was bonkers for, but all I tasted was ashes or charcoal. Very unpleasant. Imagine charcoal with vinegar and lemon juice. After a couple tries, I was done. It was way too strong for me.  Of course, it's supposed to taste delectable, like spicy, rich and creamy honey, tobacco and molasses. Believe me, that's not what I get from it.

So, individually, we were unimpressed. The Gloucester was too mild, one boring note, and the Stilton was overpowering. Even though Alan loved it, he couldn't keep eating it straight. However, those guys at Clawson know their stuff, because together, they were incredible. Perfectly balanced, creamy, salty and just the right amount of sharpness. Like baby bear, JUST right.  I could actually taste layers of flavor, including earthy, salty, a little sweetness and fruitiness like apple and citrus. Wow. The two cheeses balanced each other out so perfectly, I couldn't believe I was eating the same thing as before.  It could have been a meal in itself, with some bread and vegetables, because yes, it turned out to be very rich and hearty and filling as the name suggests, even though it comes across like a mamby pamby cheese at first.  I even saw a recipe to melt it over some steak, and man, that would be a worthy Huntsman meal.  I'm looking forward to find some more products from Clawson, because I think they have a knack for blending.

We got really lucky stumbling upon this one, but making cheese decisions is turning out to be pretty difficult.  Feel free to send us some suggestions of your favorite cheeses that we should seek out, and try some of these along with us. We'd love to hear what you think of them too!

-Ashleigh

*Coloring Agents: the cheddar effect:  Most companies add organic dyes to their cheese starters to create a uniformly healthy look to the end product. Cheese used to turn out this way naturally because of the Vitamin D the cows got from their grass and other grazing goodies in the summer, but cheese from winter milkings was noticeably whiter.  Nowadays, since most diary cows are fed feed from silos year round, most cheeses naturally come out white, even though they don't taste much different from their naturally orange summer counterparts. Since cheesemakers want the cheese to be uniform and recognizable for the consumer (you recognize that cheddar is traditionally supposed to be orange, so you look for that when you shop), they add harmless dyes in the beginning of the cheese process. It's very common, sometimes it just ends up looking a little too fluorescent to be real.  Just so you know.  (Source: The Cheese Primer p. 6)

C'est Cheese and Chabichou!

This was an extremely cheesy weekend.  It's kind of taking over our lives... not that I mind. We've developed a semi-obsession, where we can't leave a store without checking out the cheese counter (even though we already have SO much in the fridge), and we're planning road trips to visit highly recommended cheese shops rather than historic landmarks. But, why be ordinary? Life is no fun without a little bit of eccentricity. And we like being weird :)

We went to C'est Cheese in Santa Barbara and had some lunch - grown-up grilled cheese and tomato soup, yum! -  and proceeded to buy too much cheese. We tried a couple samples from their cheese counters, and were very impressed by their selection of european imports and american artisan cheeses as well as a varied selection of cured meats.  And points to them for having an appetizing presentation in the dairy case - do you notice that when something looks cute and yummy you want to eat it even more? The C'est Cheesers definitely have it down. And everything was fresh and not too pungent or rancid smelling... thank goodness. After sampling, we went home with some Wensleydale (in honor of the Monty Python skit) imported from England, and some French cheese called Chabichou du Poitou (pronounced shaw-bee-shew doo pwa-too). It sounds so cute! When we got home we couldn't wait any longer, and we dug right in. We'll attack the Wenleydale later this week, so don't miss it!

But for now, let's talk about Chabichou. The brand that we bought is called Le Chevrot, and from that, you might be able to tell that this is a goat cheese (chèvre is french for goat). It is made in a western region of France called Poitou, and so it is called Chabichou du Poitou. And remember I told you about that naming board in France that protects cheese? Well, this particular cheese is protected by that organization, so you know it's authentic. It even has its own website! I find that amusing. You can find it here, but be warned, it is in French.  This particular brand (Le Chevrot) actually comes highly recommended in The Cheese Primer. About it, Steven Jenkins says "I have never tasted better goat cheese." That sounds promising!

Anyway, about our little Chabichou. It IS cute and little, just like it sounds. It comes in a small cylinder, about half the size of a can of soup. The rind is white and wrinkly-looking, like a brain. I'm 100% serious. And that's pretty much why we bought it - it looked nothing like anything else we've seen! So, you cut into it, and the inside is white and creamy, like cream cheese (but not as moist). So far, it seems pretty appetizing. Unfortunately, it is not as easy to eat as it is to look at. I struggle with goat cheese anyway- it makes my throat tense up and I gag - so its no surprise I couldn't eat very much of this.  Alan had no problem with it though, he dove right in. 

Because it's goat cheese, it has a sour, "goaty" punch. Not sour like a lemon, just a flavorless pucker-factor.  I guess the official term is "piquant,"  but just saying that makes me feel snooty. Veto: piquant. I'll stick with "goaty."  

It has zero sweetness, and has a strong earthy/mushroomy flavor. That's unexpected, because it looks just like cream cheese, yet tastes nothing like it.  It also smells like dirty socks... thankfully, it doesn't taste like them.  We found the texture to be silky, even though it looks a little bit chalky. It seems like this cheese is the poster child for "appearances can be deceiving." 

We did pretty well identifying the flavors (finally!); it was supposed to taste intensely like a barnyard and toasted nuts with a goat-like tang, according to Culture Cheese Magazine.  Mmmm... barnyard. That's what we got from it.

That wrinkly brain rind is edible, and it is suggested that eating it will intensify the flavors of the Chabichou, if you dare. Alan dared. And he regretted it, much to my amusement. His exact exclamation was "It's a nightmare!" and that it tasted like mustard punched him in the face. That's what you get for eating mold. He was still whimpering ten minutes later. 

Here's a photo of our cute Chabichou... don't judge it by it's cute exterior though. It's an intense cheese.  I couldn't handle it very well, because that goat gets me every time. And Alan would give his opinion, but he's still traumatized. I guess that's what makes a great goat cheese, though. We wish you better luck with it! Enjoy!

-Ashleigh

What we thought was Brie...

Today, Alan and I decided to explore the world of Brie... or what we thought was Brie.  We were in Solvang, CA, and since we still had money left over in our cheese budget after we bought a great cheese board, we were on the hunt for cheese! While Vinhus (where we found the board) had a pretty impressive cheese counter, most of them were too strong for me (bleus and camembert) or were American made cheeses (and we're trying to focus on European imports since we're so new to it. I'm sure there are a lot of great American cheese artisans, but we're just not there yet.), so our journey continued.

We went to the local natural food market, El Rancho Marketplace, and discovered that they had a great, well-cared for cheese counter! What stood out to us was their selection of Brie: there were at least 8 of them, all imports except for one. Both of us have had Brie before; it's fairly popular in restaurants and at cheese counters, so we thought it would be fun to buy a couple of different brands and compare them. The ones we picked were St. Andre and Fromager d'Affinois.

And it's a good thing we approached it that way.  Bear with me through this short educational introduction. In the chapter of The Cheese Primer that discusses Brie, it explains that the term "brie" is not legally protected. There is a french board that protects the rights to the names of cheeses, similar to patents and licensing in the US. Only 2 types of Brie have been protected under this board, Brie de Meaux and Brie de Melun, neither of which you can really find in the US, with the exception of a few good brands. That may not seem very important, but what it means is any old cheese can call itself Brie, regardless of how and where it's made and what it tastes like, but only cheeses that are made in a specific area of France and by a specific process can call themselves Brie de Meaux or Brie de Melun.

That means, we Americans may be eating a lot of phony Bries without ever knowing it, especially since Brie is a pretty hip cheese right now - you KNOW you've been in a restaurant and heard those hipsters in the booth next to you talking about how they're so sophisticated because Brie is their favorite cheese!

So, why were there so many Bries laying around this cheese counter in El Rancho? Let me tell you. They weren't Brie. And neither were the two that we bought today. The store-printed deli label may say Brie, and the actual cheese label from the manufacturer may say Brie, but what it REALLY is (unless it says Brie de Meaux or Brie de Melun) is a Double-Creme or Triple-Creme Soft-ripened cheese. This was really confusing for Alan and me, but I did a lot of research and it sounds to me like the overarching category is Soft-ripened cheese (which includes Double- and Triple-cremes, and Paglia cheeses... more on those when we come to them), and that the two Bries are types of Double-creme Soft-ripened cheese.  That doesn't mean they're the ONLY double-cremes.  Got all that?

Now we can move onto the cheeses we had today. Yum!  Here we go: St. Andre and Fromager d'Affinois.

Both of these cheese are considered double-cremes, because they have between 60-75% butterfat. To achieve this, extra cream is added to the cheese before it becomes curd, resulting in a creamy and silky finish once it is formed and aged. A triple-creme must have over 75% butterfat (oh vey!), making it even silkier. According to Steven Jenkins, true triple-cremes are very rare. St. Andre had 70% butterfat, and Fromager d'Affinois had 60%.

Both of these cheeses are off-white, and look like regular old Philadelphia cream cheese, if it had a rind. They are soft and spreadable, and don't give off any kind of pungent odor. They are both cows milk cheeses.  Overall, we had a pleasant first impression. The similarities end there, though.

St. Andre had a consistency very similar to cream cheese, and tasted like it too. It was slightly more mild than cream cheese, though, and was a little heavier and more buttery. Alan and I both loved it.  We didn't taste anything crazy in this one like we have been, no nuts or fruits or armpits.  Just clean, fresh cream cheese.

Fromager d'Affinois was also delightful, but very much its own animal. It was surprisingly silky, like almost-melted butter.  This was impressive, because it has the characteristics of a triple-creme, even though it only has the minimal amount of butterfat to be considered a double!

Naturally, I did some research. I found another fantastic source, the PFI Cheese Library. According to their website, its qualities mimic that of a triple-creme because the milk is "ultra-filtered" before it is made into curd, making it very smooth.  It also had an intense butter flavor, like the artificial butter spray. Or, if you've ever stuck your fingers in a stick of butter and ate it (yes, I have) then you know that flavor. It was a little too strong to eat by itself, but on a cracker it was fantastic. We loved this one too.

The verdict:
Alan: They were both delicious, and are the best ones we've had so far. It's strange that they are so closely related, but are vastly different.
Ashleigh: They are nice and safe, great for beginning cheese hounds.  I love that they are creamy and not scary. But, we still have to find some real Brie.

Here's a photo of our happy cheese board, complete with the two cheeses of the night and our accompaniments, pears and salami!  

Left: Fromager d'Affinios, Right: St. Andre. Accompaniments: Pear and Salami

Have a great day, and happy cheese hunting!

-Ashleigh

Mmmm... Mimolette!

We had some special guests at cheese tasting tonight! Please welcome Andrew and Kelli to the CCC for some yummy cheese-centered play-by-play.

So, after a day of a disappointing strawberry festival (who has a STRAWBERRY festival with ONE strawberry vendor? And nearly 100 other vendors? Arroyo Grande, CA, that's who. Schmucks.), we picked up some more cheese at Trader Joe's and sat around our dining room table trying out a group-style cheese tasting! Meet our friends Andrew and Kelli:  Andrew is camping out in our spare bedroom for a few months until he leaves to become a drill instructor for the Air Force, so he will probably frequent the Shteinberg-Botts Tasting Room until then. And Kelli is Alan's life raft at work, providing much needed comic relief when the world caves in on their office... which is nearly every day. Poor Alan.  

Now, Kelli and Andrew are just as new to cheese as we are, so we conned them into trying the new stuff we bought, as well as the Gruyere we tried the other day.  Our featured cheeses of the night: French Mimolette and Aged Gouda (we'll cover the Gouda in Part 2 of this post, because Alan's having a fit over here about putting 2 cheeses in the same entry... ahhh love).  We haven't made it very far into our book yet, so we still didn't know what we were buying when we bought it. But I convinced Alan to put down the really stinky moldy nasty ones he wanted to buy, and get some that looked a little bit safer. It's only a matter of time until that trick stops working...

Let's get down to the cheese! 

The Cheese: Isigny Sainte-Mere Mimolette (And, yes,  you must say it with a french accent at all times).  Hohn-hohn-hohn Baguette!!

We got lucky AGAIN. Isigny Sainte-Mere is one of the few brands of Mimolette that The Cheese Primer recommends in both France and the US! And it doesn't stop there- on the Isigny-Sainte-Mere website (posted below, and yes, the website is in French, so you might want to recruit someone who can speak the language... or at least muddle through it like I did) you can find the types of Mimolette they sell, organized by how long they have been aged. We managed to get our hands on their "Extra-Vieille" variety, which, directly translated means "Extra Old" (yum) and is guaranteed to be aged at least 18 months. In Cheeseland, older is usually better, so go us! We got the oldest cheese we could, on accident!

Mimolette is a hard bright orange cheese. It's nearly fluorescent! It has a waxy texture and it looks like orange-flavored hard candy.  That plays weird tricks on your brain, let me tell you. 

Mimolette is made in Normandy, in northern France. It is famous for being Charles De Gaulle's favorite cheese, but Steven Jenkins doesn't seem to love it very much. He says "Mimolette is one of the blandest cheeses you'll ever taste" - poor Mimolette!

I didn't think it was bland at all. It was very sharp and salty, and I definitely taste a sour milk flavor that (and I'm shocking myself even as I write this) wasn't entirely unenjoyable.  It's pretty much how I always wish my macaroni and cheese tasted, full of cheesy flavor! 

Alan said he could taste a tangy sourness like yogurt, and that it's sharp like Cheddar.  Kelli didn't like this one much, and Andrew thought everything tasted like Cheddar.  Now, Andrew is a wine connoisseur, and is really good at picking out the complex flavors in wine. Don't be fooled, all you wine tasters -  it looks like having a palette for wine doesn't prepare you for cheese!

The Verdict:

Alan: Mimolette is  a good substitute for Cheddar, if you feel like trying something different.

Ashleigh: I might grate some onto my macaroni and cheese...

Keep in mind, it's probably going to be a few bucks more than Cheddar. 

We also learned a valuable cheese lesson tonight. Don't eat cold cheese. It might sound weird, since it needs to be refrigerated. But, it is advised, and we now know from personal experience, to let your cheese come to room temperature before sinking your teeth into it. When cheese is cold, it has very little flavor, but coming to room temperature allows it to "wake up" in a sense... We revisited the Gruyere with Kelli and Andrew, and we tasted it as soon as we took it out of the refrigerator. I actually liked it then... I didn't taste any of the nail polish remover taste, and I thought maybe I was already seeing my palette develop. But, after 20 minutes, I tried it again, and yup, it was all acetone. YUCK. So, the moral of the story is don't munch on the cheese as soon as you take it out. Show some restraint, and wait for the flavor to come back. Also, your palette won't mature overnight. It's apparently going to take time for that... maybe I can stretch out putting off the stinky bleu cheeses for a while longer after all ;-)


Click Here to check out Isigny Sainte-Mere Mimolette

We would love you to try some of these cheeses with us and post what you think of them! And feel free to send us any requests and or suggestions!

Stay tuned for Part 2 of tonight's tasting, featuring Aged Gouda!


-Ashleigh

Grand Cru Gruyere

Gruyere!!! Our first cheese! 

Traditionally, this is a Swiss cow's milk cheese popular in fondue recipes. The texture resembles white American cheese: it's smooth, no cracks or holes, and the cheese is soft but not oozy. 

According to Steve Jenkins and "The Cheese Primer," "Gruyere is one of the truly great cheeses of the world." We'll be honest, we picked this cheese at random, at our local grocery store because it sounded fancy. Furthermore, there apparently is a whole lotta crappy Gruyere cheese circulating about. It's a cheap version of the real deal, similar to processed American cheese. We lucked out in that we happened to pick one of the better brands of American-made Gruyere. Enough talking, let's eat some cheese!

The Cheese: Roth Kase brand Grand Cru Gruyere

We both agreed that this cheese is pretty mild. It's not salty or sharp. It has a strong initial smell of raw unprocessed peanut butter for some reason, and it tastes "nutty" too. Ashleigh insists she tastes bitter walnuts. *Note: she dislikes nuts too. After a few seconds the cheese begins to soften on the tongue and the nuttiness gives way to something else, but we can't figure out what the hell it is exactly. According to Ashleigh, this aftertaste is reminiscent of nail polish remover. Yum!!

Let's consult Mr. Jenkins. He says the Gruyere should "have assertive flavor with hints of fruits and nuts." Maybe the nail polish remover taste is a clue to our primitive palettes....sheesh.

The Verdict

Ashleigh: "It was good! We'll have to try it in fondue."

Alan: "Why does it smell like peanut butter in here??"

Here's a link to the website for this cheese:

Roth Kase Grand Cru Gruyere

- Alan.