Update: Chevre Month

I didn't get to post more than my usual quota of 2 entries for this month, like I said I would. I know I still have time, but I'm going to Rome tomorrow, then Morocco for a week. I won't be back home until the beginning of March. I promise to bring you some very exciting tales of my adventures with cheese in Italy and Morocco when I return. And I will be extending Chevre Month through March. You have much to look forward to. Check back in 2 weeks!

Chevre II: Selles-sur-Cher

"The rind is firm and smells like ash and animal, with a hint of cellar and earth." -Joanne's tasting notes on ForkandBottle.com





Selles-sur-Cher goat cheese is the most delicious of its kind that I have ever had the great pleasure of tasting.

It is certainly on my top 5 list of best cheeses. I think Dave agrees with me on that. We picked this delicious devil out at Intermarche (supermarket) and we've been taking our sweet time with it, savoring each piece that we spread on little slices of pignette (better than a baguette).

It takes a bit of work to cut off the moldy charcoal rind, but the little square of firm, flaky, snow-white cheese is worth all the trouble. A little bit goes a long way, especially as it melts in your mouth and gives off its distinctive goaty-nutty-salty flavor. Our brick of Selles was aged, but when it is consumed earlier, the cheese is much softer and less intense. Of course, I didn't know this when we bought it, but I'm glad we tried the more aged version first. I wouldn't mind having a taste of the younger Selles, although I'm a bit afraid it won't be able to stand up to our first round with the cheese.

The cheese is made in the Loire Valley, the very center of France. The regulations surrounding the production of real Selles-sur-Cher are very strict, thus, it is not a common cheese at the market, especially outside of central France. I believe it is possible to find a version of this cheese in the USA that is made from pasteurized milk. But, as almost all French people are known to testify when faced with this change in tradition, it is not true Selles-sur-Cher chevre. Gotta take advantage while I still can... No question about it, we are absolutely going to be buying another brick of Selles-sur-Cher as soon as we return from our winter vacation. (I wonder what kinds of delicious cheeses we will stumble across in Rome, Marrakesh, and Essaouira...)

Chevre I: Picodon

"During the maturing process, the rind of the cheese covers itself with blue and white mold. This delicate and supple cheese can become crumbly after a prolonged maturing process. It can be eaten as a snack, in a sandwich, or cooked, grilled and left to soak in white wine, brandy, or even olive oil." -Cheese Online

Check out this website, which shows us how Picodon is produced.




The photo and quote found above easily summarize our experience with this cheese. The Thierrys introduced us to this cheese in Lyon last November. Picodon comes from the Rhone-Alpes region (where Lyon resides) and is usually produced during the autumn months, which explains why we haven't found it in Mont de Marsan. Thankfully, Joelle fixed up a jar of picodon, olive oil, and spices for us to take home. We have let it sleep for almost three months, but it won't be able to rest for much longer. My mom is visiting us next week, and she would probably enjoy a taste of our special French cheese. Of course, we'll open it up in a couple days and make sure it is as good as we've been promised.

That is just one way to enjoy picodon cheese. While in Lyon, we had the opportunity to try picodon at its different aging processes. It is a very delicate cheese, but it certainly delivers the characteristic chevre taste. While white and young, it is soft and spreadable. Anyone can appreciate its flavor and accessibility. As the picodon ages, it grays and grows scary-looking mold all over its rind. Its inner character also changes from soft to hard, so that it breaks apart when you cut into it. It becomes difficult to spread and even more difficult to keep from tumbling off a little piece of baguette. Despite this odd and sometimes frustrating transformation, the picodon's flavor is more pronounced and savory than ever before. It isn't very strong, though it has quite a different taste compared to that of the young picodon. No matter what, deciding on the best stage at which to eat picodon is up to your cravings. Remember, if you are in the middle of autumn, you can just go back to the cheese man for more. The most sure way is just to move to Lyon.

Unfortunately, I don't know if this cheese is available in the USA. As in past posts, my suggestion is to check the specialty stores, such as Trader Joe's, Bristol Farms, etc. There are some websites that offer delivery of picodon cheese, which I might have to try when I return. Of course, I will wait to place that order until the autumn.

News!

I have been reviewing my past posts and I realized that I haven't written about la fromage de chevre yet!! How could I be so neglectful? We have been consuming goat cheese since we landed on this continent and I hadn't even considered writing about it until now. I apologize...

Thus, I declare this the month of CHEVRE! All my posts will be about chevre cheese. Though I usually keep the number of cheese reviews to two per month, I might make a slight exception to help reconcile my complete disregard of a very important feature in my Penicillin-consuming, French life.

(A more personal note: I wish eating moldy cheese would immunize me against the moldy walls of my apartment. I am getting sick (horrible allergy infections) every 2-3 weeks. It's unbearable.)

Roquefort

"Roquefort, or similar style cheese, is mentioned in literature as far back as AD 79, when Pliny the Elder remarked upon its rich flavor." -Kindersley, French Cheeses





Dave's brother visited us in Mont de Marsan for a few days. Saturday morning we went to the market and bought two types of cheese to share with him: Mont d'or and Roquefort. I've already discussed the former; we all enjoyed it. I have to mention we asked for a "light" Roquefort. It's easier for someone to taste when they've never tried real blue cheese before. His brother is a big fan of cheese, so I made sure he tried all the big ones: chevre sec, brebis, Camembert, Mont d'or, and Roquefort. I'm such a good hostess.

I stole this from Wikipedia because it makes this cheese's past interesting and helps illustrate how the Frenchman's mind works: "Legend has it that the cheese was discovered when a young shepherd, eating his lunch of bread and ewes' milk cheese, saw a beautiful girl in the distance. Abandoning his meal in a nearby cave, he ran to meet her. When he returned a few months later, the mold had transformed his plain cheese into roquefort." Roquefort is such an essential part of French food that they have fables about its creation and have the tools preserved in museums that Roquefort-makers used centuries ago.

I used to hate blue cheese, including Roquefort, up through the time I lived in Lyon with a French family. After numerous nights of heckling and pressuring by many French peoples, the cheese began to grow on me like the blue mold that gives it that special tang. Even when I returned to the U.S., I was still not a fan of Roquefort and other blue cheeses. But, like with beer and wine, I've grown more accustomed to the spiciness of Roquefort. And when I am in the mood for a taste that it can only offer, I am very happy to be in France within close reach of true, delicious, and inexpensive Roquefort.

This slice of cheese is perfect! It has the usual kick, but not so much that you feel you're eating metal; it doesn't overpower the creaminess. They must not have aged this cheese for long (6 weeks or so). I'm sure there are certain "correct" ways to eat Roquefort, but I ate some with almonds tonight. They complemented the cheese well. A little bit on a piece of fresh baguette, then chased with a couple almonds. Delish! When slightly salty, creamy brebis isn't enough to satisfy your lust for tasty cheese, I suggest a wedge of tangy Roquefort.

Black Tomme des Pyrenees

"The black tomme of the Pyrenees has been manufactured since the 12th century in the area of Saint-Girons. It grew in local popularity during the 19th century, then its reputation extended to the whole country." -911 Chef Eric (Someone had done a poor translation, so I fixed it up a bit.)



I kept eying this cheese at the store. I've never had cheese that comes in a black rind before. I was very curious. When we returned from our big holiday, I decided to buy a slice.

The black wax peeled off easily and I was left with a pale cheese with small holes throughout. It's pretty. And it tastes good, too. The flavor is not very strong; it's not even that creamy or rich. We've been munching away at it like little cartoon mice. It serves well as a part of our daily aperitif snack. In fact, I like to take a bite of the cheese, then a few salty crackers to chase it. They go well together.

I have to admit that I'm becoming less and less inclined to buy cheese made from cow's milk. It seems more and more boring. Compared to sheep's milk cheese, it has much less flavor. I'm sure this is because I am not trying the right cheeses anymore. This black tomme is actually nice for its lightness, but I guess I'm in the mood for something more rich and spicy. Maybe I need to buy another slice of Roquefort.

Tonight, I had a sample of three different cheeses (black tomme, Camembert, and Parmesean) for dinner. I kept craving the saltiness of the Parmesean. The Camembert was nothing special. But the black tomme was my "break" cheese. When the other two overwhelmed me, I went for the easy-going one.

I don't want to say that the black tomme has no flavor; that's unfair. I also can't easily describe it because of my lack in that art. Maybe I should take a French cheese tasting course while I'm here. And French wine, too...

Bleu de Basque

"An artisan sheep’s milk blue cheese made in the Pyrenées mountains, ... Bleu des Basques has a wonderful combination of earthy spiciness and hints of apricot." -Artisanal Cheese






Bleu de Basques is another brebis cheese from the southwest of France. Believing that I had discovered something lovely and delicious in all Basque brebis cheeses, I put my faith into buying a 250 gram slice of blue brebis at the local supermarket.

I have been a fan of blue cheese and its spicy flavor since I lived in Lyon a couple years ago, but sometimes the smell still gets to me. Surprisingly, many cheeses can have a horrible stench, but still have a delicate taste. (Muenster is one of those.)

To put it nicely, this blue brebis smells like rotten fish. Unfortunately, I am having trouble getting the smell out of my head when I taste the cheese. In large quantities, its taste reminds me too much of its smell; it is musty and salty, with a bit of creaminess. As it has been aging, we have been cutting it into smaller pieces and eating it with bread or crackers. Thankfully, this routine before dinner has allowed me to taste and appreciate the spicy, "blue" flavor, while not being overwhelmed by the odor. Although I have enjoyed trying this variety of blue cheese, I don't see myself buying it again. However, that doesn't mean I'm going to let it go to waste...

I don't know if it's possible to buy Bleu de Basque in the US, but it would make a wonderful appetizer at a dinner party. Cut into small pieces beforehand and placed on small, salty crackers, it would certainly please the fans of blue cheese.