CompassRose
07-16-2004, 05:50 PM
This will probably be the last of the delightful Cheese Tray Suppers for some time; as of August 2, the dairy goes, the fruit goes... indeed, pretty much all fun food departs for fairer and less cardio-infested climes for three months. But let's not dwell on that.
Earlier this week, we'd thought we'd drive out to Hamilton for Friday dinner (rumour has it that there is an excellent new East Indian restaurant there). Today, however, has been hot, and we're both tired. The Fancy Deli is a mere few minutes walk away, down a pleasant rail-trail that the dog enjoys. Time, said we, each to each, for a Cheese Tray. The British Raj can wait for next week, which will be the Week of the Last Hurrah.
We returned with our small but startlingly costly bag, and settled down before the BBC version of The Final Problem (starring Jeremy Brett) -- a nice, civilised accompaniment.
The first entry on tonight's tray (a board, actually, but never mind) was Pont L'Eveque, (http://www.cheese-france.com/cheese/pont_leveque.htm) chosen by A. This cheese of Normandy has been made for over seven hundred years, and according to the wee label stuck into it at the Deli, is "the most popular cheese in France." I see that it sez on the website that it has "a delicate bouquet". I suppose, in the field of Stinky Cheeses (in which it is definitely to be included) that this is true, but it certainly possesses a distinct aroma. A. didn't much care for it (he's not a big fan of the entire Dirty Sock group of cheese); I of course quite liked it. As I say, not too room-clearing, and a rich, creamy, rather forward flavour -- also a toothsome, non-leathery rind. I am fond of the rind on a soft cheese.
Second was another soft, rinded cheese, this one Morbier. (http://www.fromage-morbier.com/english/home.html) This is an interesting little cheese (recall my predilection for the weird and rustic in a cheese) with a layer of ash in the middle. Oo! I see that this is one of those wicked unpasteurised cheeses; also that the layer of ash separates the morning milk from the afternoon milk. Fascinating, the incredible variety of things one can do to an apparently simple secretion of cow. I've read of it before, since it is rumoured to be one of the most obnoxiously (http://www.fact-index.com/m/mo/morbier_cheese.html) smelly of cheeses. Our experience, however, belied that. Mild in smell, even milder in taste, I thought. Perhaps this specimen was jet-lagged. Anyway, I thought it was dull, except for the slight vague crunch of the ash in its creamy blandness, and A. didn't think much of it either. I will reserve judgement on Morbier.
Third, the blue entry: Fourme d'Ambert. (http://www.cheese-france.com/cheese/fourme_ambert.htm) The label stuck into this one said "one of the oldest cheeses in France, dating back to the time of the Romans" and that would have hooked me whatever it tasted like. As it turned out, it was a lovely little cheese. This is a mild, unctuous, yet generously flavoured blue, and even A. liked it. It's more on the order of say a Cambozola, but a bit more complex than the specimens of that I've had.
In all that sea of creamy mellowness, there was one interloper, from Italy. Alas, I cannot find you a web reference for Caccio di Fossa, but this is a very nifty cheese, picked by A. -- again for the detail on those luring little cards. Caccio di Fossa, apparently, is ripened for a while, then dropped into barrels of water, where it sits while the whey leaches out of it. When it's ready, the cheeses, now wizened and shriveled in appearance, bob to the surface. This was the unanimous Cheese of the Evening, and won rounds of tastebud applause. It's a dry, rather crumbly cheese, in taste and texture reminiscent of a really nice Romano, only not near so jawbreaking. Salty, piquant and full of character (and tiny little holes) this was a very fine cheese, either on bread or just out of hand (the crumbly bits that fell off the slices). We wished we had bought more of this little fellow.
We did, however, buy dessert as well from the cases at the front of the Deli -- but that's another story. Oh, and The Final Problem? Quite good, but the very visible ropes in Holmes' and Moriarty's Dramatic Plunge to Death quite ruined the mood of what should have been a tragic moment. As A. said, "fight scenes have never been a BBC strong point."
Thank you, one and all, for joining me in another vicarious Cheese Tray! And wish me strength for the coming three cheeseless (and chocolateless, and ice-cream-less) months. :(
Katharine
Earlier this week, we'd thought we'd drive out to Hamilton for Friday dinner (rumour has it that there is an excellent new East Indian restaurant there). Today, however, has been hot, and we're both tired. The Fancy Deli is a mere few minutes walk away, down a pleasant rail-trail that the dog enjoys. Time, said we, each to each, for a Cheese Tray. The British Raj can wait for next week, which will be the Week of the Last Hurrah.
We returned with our small but startlingly costly bag, and settled down before the BBC version of The Final Problem (starring Jeremy Brett) -- a nice, civilised accompaniment.
The first entry on tonight's tray (a board, actually, but never mind) was Pont L'Eveque, (http://www.cheese-france.com/cheese/pont_leveque.htm) chosen by A. This cheese of Normandy has been made for over seven hundred years, and according to the wee label stuck into it at the Deli, is "the most popular cheese in France." I see that it sez on the website that it has "a delicate bouquet". I suppose, in the field of Stinky Cheeses (in which it is definitely to be included) that this is true, but it certainly possesses a distinct aroma. A. didn't much care for it (he's not a big fan of the entire Dirty Sock group of cheese); I of course quite liked it. As I say, not too room-clearing, and a rich, creamy, rather forward flavour -- also a toothsome, non-leathery rind. I am fond of the rind on a soft cheese.
Second was another soft, rinded cheese, this one Morbier. (http://www.fromage-morbier.com/english/home.html) This is an interesting little cheese (recall my predilection for the weird and rustic in a cheese) with a layer of ash in the middle. Oo! I see that this is one of those wicked unpasteurised cheeses; also that the layer of ash separates the morning milk from the afternoon milk. Fascinating, the incredible variety of things one can do to an apparently simple secretion of cow. I've read of it before, since it is rumoured to be one of the most obnoxiously (http://www.fact-index.com/m/mo/morbier_cheese.html) smelly of cheeses. Our experience, however, belied that. Mild in smell, even milder in taste, I thought. Perhaps this specimen was jet-lagged. Anyway, I thought it was dull, except for the slight vague crunch of the ash in its creamy blandness, and A. didn't think much of it either. I will reserve judgement on Morbier.
Third, the blue entry: Fourme d'Ambert. (http://www.cheese-france.com/cheese/fourme_ambert.htm) The label stuck into this one said "one of the oldest cheeses in France, dating back to the time of the Romans" and that would have hooked me whatever it tasted like. As it turned out, it was a lovely little cheese. This is a mild, unctuous, yet generously flavoured blue, and even A. liked it. It's more on the order of say a Cambozola, but a bit more complex than the specimens of that I've had.
In all that sea of creamy mellowness, there was one interloper, from Italy. Alas, I cannot find you a web reference for Caccio di Fossa, but this is a very nifty cheese, picked by A. -- again for the detail on those luring little cards. Caccio di Fossa, apparently, is ripened for a while, then dropped into barrels of water, where it sits while the whey leaches out of it. When it's ready, the cheeses, now wizened and shriveled in appearance, bob to the surface. This was the unanimous Cheese of the Evening, and won rounds of tastebud applause. It's a dry, rather crumbly cheese, in taste and texture reminiscent of a really nice Romano, only not near so jawbreaking. Salty, piquant and full of character (and tiny little holes) this was a very fine cheese, either on bread or just out of hand (the crumbly bits that fell off the slices). We wished we had bought more of this little fellow.
We did, however, buy dessert as well from the cases at the front of the Deli -- but that's another story. Oh, and The Final Problem? Quite good, but the very visible ropes in Holmes' and Moriarty's Dramatic Plunge to Death quite ruined the mood of what should have been a tragic moment. As A. said, "fight scenes have never been a BBC strong point."
Thank you, one and all, for joining me in another vicarious Cheese Tray! And wish me strength for the coming three cheeseless (and chocolateless, and ice-cream-less) months. :(
Katharine