MICHAEL POLLAN IS WRONG. He says that you shouldn’t eat anything from a place where everyone is required to wear a surgical cap. You’d have to give up cheese. Everyone who makes it puts on the cap. And if not that, then at least a hairnet. No exceptions. It’s part of the legal guidelines.
It’s one of the many things we discovered one morning when we went back to Paul Trubey’s Beltane Farm so Bruce could learn how to make cheese firsthand.
It was winter now: quieter, stiller, the ice thick in the driveway. Since Paul’s goats had just about quit giving milk as the iron-cold New England dark settled around us, there was no need for staff. Except for Bruce. He had to wear the cap. And sterilize his shoes. And his hands. And put on the outerwear so that none of his ambient contaminants could get into the cheese.
“You, too,” Paul said.
I stuttered that I was only along for the ride. And the tasting.
Some days, I could kill for an assistant. I got suited up and stepped inside what felt like a sauna on an otherwise bleak day.
Just as when we made the simple cheese for Saag Paneer (this page), Paul also had to get the goat milk heated up. He opened the taps to run the milk from the milking parlor to a giant stainless steel cauldron in that cheese-making room.
Once the cauldron was full, he snapped on the gas flame, a thud resounding off the concrete floor. The milk had to be heated to 145°F (63°C), with an ambient air temperature in that stainless steel behemoth of 155°F (68°C)—then those temperatures had to be held for forty minutes. Just to make sure, a state-mandated monitoring device hung on a nearby wall.
Yes, via heat, Paul was continuing the process of turning lactose into lactic acid. But more importantly, he was pasteurizing the milk: heating it to and holding it at a temperature high enough to kill off any bad bugs. According to U.S. regulations, no one can make cheese from raw milk.
How can that be? you might ask. You’ve probably seen raw milk cheeses in the United States, labeled as such at high-end supermarkets or perhaps offered as a course after dinner at a fine restaurant. Parmigiano-Reggiano, Brie, and Gruyère are all raw milk cheeses.
There’s a loophole in the law. If the cheese is made with raw, unpasteurized milk, it must be aged for at least sixty days—which is said to take care of the bad bugs in that high-salt, dehydrating process about the way heat takes care of them in the pasteurization process.
That said, raw milk is an ongoing debate among foodies. In Europe, some cheeses cannot be made with pasteurized milk: those three aged ones listed above, as well as Comté, Camembert, and Emmental; and then there are others that haven’t been aged the necessary sixty days, but are nonetheless made with raw milk, and are thus illegal to import (or even make) in the United States.
Why are the Europeans so opposed to pasteurization, even though forgoing it knocks some of their cheeses out of the enormous U.S. market? Because as Bruce and Paul heated the goat milk, certain enzymes were rendered inactive and certain chemical compounds left over from the goats’ foraging were destroyed, thus depriving the milk on two fronts of some of its flavor overtones.
After forty minutes, he shut off the gas. Now we had to wait for the milk to cool to almost 80°F. “Higher temperature will kill off the cultures,” Paul said.
The cultures. That is, the main difference in a cheese maker’s craft and our attempts to make a rudimentary cheese for Saag Paneer (this page). We used lemon juice, a heavy hammer to get the casein to coagulate. Needless to say, artisanal cheese making needs a more refined instrument.
“You boys up for some chores?” Paul asked.
Bruce threw me a look.
Hey, you’re the chef, I mouthed.
Without further ado, he and Paul went into the barn to clean out the milking cans. They tried to corral them, the gushing hot water making the cans rattle a bass-note thrum.
I looked up at the ice rimming the ceiling. Sometimes it’s good to be the writer.
Goat feta has a deliciously silky texture and a sharp salty bite, a sure match to big herbs and spices.
1 pound (455 g) goat feta cheese
2 fresh sage sprigs
1 fresh rosemary sprig
3 medium garlic cloves, peeled
6 black peppercorns, just cracked open under the bottom of a small pot
First-cold-pressed olive oil
1. Drain the feta from its brine and pat it dry with paper towels. Cut it into 1-inch (2.5-cm) cubes.
2. Place these cubes and the herbs, garlic, and peppercorns in a 1-quart (960 ml) canning jar or decorative glass jar, layering the herbs and other flavorings among the chunks of cheese. It works best if the peppercorns get lodged under pieces of cheese; otherwise, they float.
3. Pour olive oil into the jar to drown the cheese and herbs. Set the jar in the fridge for at least 2 days or up to 2 weeks. To serve, transfer some of the chunks to a serving plate and pour a little bit of the herbed oil on and around them. And one note: Even when you’ve eaten all the cheese, the remaining oil is a wonderful condiment, aromatic and fresh. Strain it and drizzle it on steamed or grilled veggies.
LESS TO DO
Skip the herbs—and even the garlic—by using an infused olive oil, sometimes available at high-end markets and specialty stores. Or check out the crazy-good smoked olive oils from The Smoked Olive in California. However, do keep the cracked black peppercorns as part of the mix: a little bite among the otherwise luxurious taste.
Someone who sells cheese at your supermarket, farmers’ market, or a gourmet store is called a cheesemonger. He or she is your best bet for up-to-the-minute information about what’s fresh and eating well.
When speaking to him or her, remember that a ripened cheese has two parts: the rind (that is, the outer shell, sometimes soft, other times quite hard) and the paste (that is, the cheese inside, anything from brilliantly white and creamy to beige and crumbly).
Finally, pronouncing chèvre presents distinct problems for North Americans. Most of us simply say shehv. But in truth, there’s a half-assed syllable off the back. Think of it this way: shehv-ruh. Now don’t pronounce that last syllable. Instead, just start the r without completing the uh. Practice makes perfect.
You’ve probably never had this classic with goat Brie. It’s undoubtedly a stronger taste—and so needs a stronger condiment, like chutney. Yes, you can use the standard, mango chutney (sometimes labeled Major Grey’s), but why be pedestrian if you’re working with goat? Scoop up this melty, gooey appetizer with baguette rounds or crunchy crackers.
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons (85 g) goat butter, melted
8 sheets frozen phyllo dough, thawed according to the package instructions, then laid on a clean, scrupulously dry work surface under a sheet of plastic wrap and a clean kitchen towel to keep the sheets moist
One 6- to 8-ounce (170- to 225-g) goat Brie wheel
¼ cup (55 g) chutney, particularly hot tomato chutney or a fruit chutney laced with ginger
1. Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
2. Brush a large baking sheet with a little of the melted butter. Place a phyllo sheet on the baking sheet, running basically the length of the sheet. Brush the phyllo sheet lightly with the melted butter. Set another sheet of phyllo on top of the first but at a 90-degree angle to it. Brush this sheet with the melted butter. And then keep going, laying the sheets on top of each other, each one at a 90-degree angle to the one below it, and brushing each with the melted butter. Take care to re-cover the unused sheets each time you take one off the pile so they stay moist and flexible.
3. Unwrap the goat Brie and set it in the dead center of the sheets, where they all overlap each other. Top the wheel with the chutney.
4. Slip each of your hands under the sheets and bring them up toward the center. Once the sheets are all gathered at the center, bring your hands together, as if you were starting to wring a chicken’s neck (you can picture this, right?), making a little “throat” where the sheets meet. Squeeze this together and twist slightly, thereby making a narrow but sealed neck with a poof of flowery phyllo dough at the top.
5. Slip the tray into the oven and bake until the phyllo dough is golden brown and crunchy, about 30, maybe 40, minutes. Remove the tray from the oven and cool for 5 minutes before slipping a large spatula under the Brie bundle and transferring it to a serving plate. Serve by first cutting a wedge, just as you would a piece of cake. After that, everyone will gouge and slice to their heart’s content.
You’ll need a small wheel (or a tomme; see this page) to make this grilled wonder. One warning: There won’t be too many visual cues to know when the cheese has absorbed enough of the delicate cedar flavor from the plank. Prod it a bit—but be careful: It can run all over the grill. When done, serve it with sliced rounds of a baguette or crunchy crackers, the better to scoop up the runny cheese.
1 cedar grilling plank
One 12- to 16-ounce (354- to 455-g) goat wheel or tomme
1. Fill a big baking dish or a roasting pan with cool tap water and float the cedar plank in it for half an hour. Either weight the plank down with a small can so it’s submerged or else turn it once during the soaking time.
2. Meanwhile, prepare the grill for high-heat, direct cooking. Either heat a gas grill to high heat (about 550°F [288°C]) with the lid closed or build a high-heat, red-hot, somewhat ashed coal bed in a charcoal grill. In either case, the heat source should be directly beneath the portion of the grill grate you intend to use.
3. Take the plank out of the water, unwrap the cheese, and set it directly on the wet plank. Without delay, set the wet plank directly over the heat and close the lid. Grill for about 15 minutes, or until the cheese is warmed through, slightly smoked, and definitely softer. The plank will get charred—and smoke quite a bit. Its bottom will look like a piece of charcoal. Do check it every once in a while to make sure it doesn’t catch on fire. If it does, spritz it with water from a spray bottle.
4. Slip a thin metal spatula under the cheese and transfer the cheese to a serving platter. Cut into the cheese so it runs a bit.
MORE TO KNOW
How do you know if you’ve gotten goat cheese that’s beyond its prime?
1. It has a sharp odor, either like soap or (worse yet) like ammonia.
2. It begins to lose its shape, bulging, running, or sagging at various points on the wheel.
3. It becomes hard and dry.
The best cocktail for this dish is a well-balanced margarita. Fill a cocktail shaker with ice, then add 1½ ounces (that is, 3 tablespoons) each of tequila, Cointreau, and fresh lime juice. Also add ¼ teaspoon sugar, or a little more to taste—anything from up to 1½ teaspoons for a very sweet drink. Shake well, then strain into a glass with fresh ice cubes. Top with a splash—no more than ½ ounce (or 1 tablespoon)—of mescal, a smoky agave distillate.
These are crunchy rounds, made with any variety of aged, firm goat cheese you choose, so long as you can grate it as you would Parmigiano-Reggiano. Once you make a log of the shortbread dough, you can keep it in your refrigerator for up to a week, slicing off rounds and baking as many as you want at a time.
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons (85 g) cool goat butter (or unsalted cow butter, if you must), cut into little bits
4 ounces (115 g) aged goat cheese, such as goat Gouda or goat Gruyère, grated through the small holes of a box grater or with a microplane
¾ cup (80 g) all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon dry mustard
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons regular or low-fat goat milk (or cow milk, if you must)
1. Place the butter bits, grated cheese, flour, dry mustard, pepper, and salt in a big bowl. Use a pastry cutter or a fork to mash the butter and cheese into the flour, continually wiping the tines, pressing it all against the sides and bottom of the bowl, and working it together until the mixture looks like coarse, wet sand. It will almost start mashing up into a dough but still be quite dry.
2. Stir in the milk with a fork to make a dough. Using your clean, dry hands, gather this dough into a ball, then form it into a log about 6 inches (15 cm) long, rolling it lightly against your work surface to help rid the log of any cracks. Wrap the log in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to 1 week.
3. Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a large baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper.
4. When the oven’s fully heated, unwrap the log and slice it into as many ¼-inch-thick (.6-cm) rounds as you choose. Set these on the prepared baking sheet and immediately get them into the oven while they’re still cool. If you’ve got any of the log left, rewrap it in plastic wrap and pop it back into the fridge. Bake the rounds until golden and a little firm to the touch, about 20 minutes. Cool them on the baking sheet for 2 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack to continue cooling. Serve warm or at room temperature.
MORE TO KNOW
In some recipes, we’ve “allowed” a substitute of some cow products: butter and/or milk, depending on if Bruce felt there was enough goaty flavor from just the cheese. The more goat, the better, in my book. But he felt we needed to make allowances.
LESS TO DO
Use a bottled vinaigrette, especially one made with balsamic vinegar. But check the bottle to make sure it’s not laced with corn syrup, a too-sweet addition to this fresh, light salad.
There’s nothing better than a little melty goat cheese on crunchy croutons, set atop fresh, springtime salad. If you really want the croutons crunchy, toast the baguette rounds on one side under a preheated broiler, cool them on a wire rack, then spread the goat cheese on their “raw” sides and toast them a second time, cheese side up.
1 medium carrot
10 red radishes, thinly sliced
1 cup (225 g) seedless red grapes, halved
2 cups (455 g) baby arugula
Eight ½-inch-thick (eight 1.2-cm) bread rounds, sliced from a thin baguette
4 ounces (115 g) fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese
3 tablespoons sherry or red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 medium garlic clove, minced or even put through a garlic press
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ cup (120 ml) olive oil
1. To make fancy-shmancy carrot curls, first fill a bowl with cold water and add a generous amount of ice cubes. Peel the carrot with a vegetable peeler, then continue making long, paper-thin strips along the length of the carrot, letting these fall into the ice water. If the strips are thin enough, they’ll curl when they take a swim, somewhat like your toes in ice water.
2. Drain the carrot curls and put them in a big serving bowl. Add the radish slices, grape halves, and arugula leaves. Toss a bit to mix everything up.
3. Position the rack so that it’s 4 to 6 inches (10 to 15 cm) from the broiler’s heat source, then preheat the broiler. Lay the baguette rounds on a large baking sheet. Smear them with the soft goat cheese. Set the tray directly under the heat source and broil until the cheese has melted a bit and even turned a little light brown in places. Remove the baking tray from the oven and transfer the goat cheese croutons to a wire rack to cool while you make the dressing.
4. Whisk the vinegar, mustard, garlic, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl until the mustard has dissolved in the vinegar. Drizzle in the olive oil, whisking all the while, to make a thin but still creamy dressing.
5. Pour this dressing over the arugula mixture, then toss a bit. Spoon the salad onto serving plates and top each with 2 goat cheese croutons.
MORE TO KNOW
Arugula is a peppery green, a real delight in a salad—but a bad, bitter punch if the leaves get too large and stemmy. Make sure you get the smallest leaves you can find. If the stems appear woody or fibrous, cut them out for a more appealing salad.
Goat Brie has a slightly soft, runny consistency, even meltier than cow Brie. As such, it’s the best thing for these easy quesadillas, sort of like a small tortilla sandwich.
2 large poblano chiles
Four 8-inch (four 20-cm) flour tortillas
3 ounces (85 g) goat Brie, any rind removed, the cheese softened to room temperature
¼ cup (55 ml) bottled chutney lot marmalade
1. Char the poblanos. There are several ways to get the job done:
Set them on the grate over an open gas flame on your grill or stove, turning once in a while with tongs, until blackened on all sides, about 4 minutes.
Or place them on a baking sheet and set them 4 to 6 inches (10 to 15 cm) from a preheated broiler, turning occasionally, until blackened on all sides, about 5 minutes.
Or place them over direct, high heat on a grill, turning once in a while, until blackened on all sides, about 6 minutes.
In any case, once the chiles are charred, put them in a bowl and seal the bowl with plastic wrap. Set aside for 15 minutes.
2. Peel back the plastic wrap, remove the chiles, and peel off the blackened bits. You needn’t get every speck, just most of the charred spots. Cut off the stems, then slice the chiles open and remove the seeds and any inner membranes. Finally, chop the flesh into long, thin strips.
3. Place all 4 tortillas on your work surface. Spread each with a quarter of the goat cheese. Top 2 of them with 2 tablespoons of the chutney and the chile strips. Top each with one of the other tortillas, cheese side down.
4. Heat a large skillet, preferably nonstick, over medium heat. Add 1 of the tortilla sandwiches and dry-fry until the tortilla has browned in places and is starting to turn crisp, about 3 minutes. Turn with a large spatula and dry-fry for another 3 minutes. Transfer the quesadilla to a wire rack and repeat with the other one. Once both are done, transfer them to a cutting board and slice them into pie wedges to serve.
MORE TO KNOW
If the Brie is very cold, the rind slices off more easily, less of the gooey cheese stuck to it. Stick the wheel in the freezer for 30 minutes, then cut off the rind.
These are traditional French puffs, little baked nothingnesses, best with cocktails before dinner. (May I suggest a Campari and soda?) Bruce twisted the recipe a bit with some chopped green olives, a little spike against the more assertive goat cheese, zippier than the Gruyère that’s more common in gougères. In any event, be ready: These puffs are best right out of the oven, while they’re still hot and crunchy.
1 cup (240 ml) regular or low-fat goat milk (or cow milk, if you must)
8 tablespoons (115 g) goat butter
1 cup (125 g) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, at room temperature
4 ounces (115 g) fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese
2 tablespoons minced pitted green olives
1. Put the milk and butter in a medium saucepan and set it over medium heat. Cook until the butter melts and the mixture just begins to simmer.
2. Dump in the flour and salt. Stir until a dough forms, then reduce the heat to medium-low and continue cooking, stirring constantly, to dry the dough out, from 5 to 7 minutes. You’ll know it’s perfect when it leaves a dry, milky film around the inside of the saucepan. Once it’s ready, scrape into the bowl of a stand mixer or a large bowl suitable for use with a portable electric mixer and cool on the counter for 15 minutes.
3. Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
4. Beat the eggs into the dough one at a time, making sure each is fully incorporated before adding the next. Honestly, it’s hard to overbeat the stuff. You want air, you want air, you want air. Once all the eggs have been added and the mixture is smooth and thick, beat in the chèvre and the green olives.
5. Scoop up rounded tablespoonfuls of the dough and drop these onto the prepared baking sheet, spacing them a couple inches apart. Slide the tray into the oven and bake until the rounds are puffed and golden, about 25 minutes. Cool for just a couple minutes on the tray before serving, still quite warm from the oven.
MORE TO KNOW
The eggs must be at room temperature for the dough to work. The proteins have to be elongated so that they can build structure in the batter. Cold eggs mean balled-up proteins, a bit like you in bed on a winter night. Leave the eggs out on your counter for 20 minutes before you use them—or immerse them in their shells in a bowl of warm (not hot!) tap water for 5 minutes.
Just before the little rounds go into the oven, sprinkle each with some finely grated hard, aged goat cheese.
Not to brag too much on Bruce, but this may well be the best darn side dish. Ever. Especially alongside any of the grilled or roasted goat dishes in this book.
2 pounds (910 g) yellow-fleshed potatoes, such as Yukon golds (about 4 large potatoes; no need to peel unless you really want to)
3 to 4 tablespoons (45 to 55 g) goat butter (or unsalted cow butter, if you must)
⅔ cup (165 ml) regular or low-fat goat milk (or cow milk, if you must)
1 very small leek (white and pale green parts only), halved lengthwise, washed carefully for any grit in the inner chambers, then very thinly sliced
4 fresh sage leaves, minced
4 ounces (115 g) fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese, at room temperature
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1. Cook the potatoes until they’re tender. You can do this in a couple of ways:
In a vegetable steamer: Set up the contraption with about an inch (2.5 cm) or so of simmering water in the bottom part, then add the potatoes (in quarters if necessary), cover, and steam until tender when pierced with a fork, 20 to 30 minutes. Transfer the potatoes to a big bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer.
In boiling water: Bring a large saucepan of water to a boil over high heat. Add the potatoes (leave them whole, so they don’t get so water-logged), cover, and boil until tender when pierced with a fork, about 25 minutes. Drain the potatoes in a colander set in the sink, then transfer to a big bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer.
2. As the potatoes cook, place the butter, milk, leek, and sage in a medium saucepan set over medium-high heat. Bring to a low simmer, stirring once in a while. Then cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer very slowly for 10 minutes.
3. Pour the hot milk mixture along with the leek and herbs over the potatoes. Add the fresh chèvre, salt, and pepper. Mash with a potato masher or beat with an electric mixer at medium speed until smooth and creamy.
OK, things are going to get a little complicated. Fortunately, this recipe is a real make-ahead—and in two different places. You can make the filling one day, save it for a couple of days in the fridge, prepare all the empanadas on a weekend day, and then freeze the baked little turnovers for months, until company drops by.
For the filling:
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 medium garlic cloves, minced
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 pounds (910 g) Swiss chard, stemmed, the leaves washed well and chopped (do not dry those leaves—they need to be sopping wet)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup (225 g) canned black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
6 ounces (170 g) fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese, crumbled
For the dough:
3 cups (375 g) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting your work surface
¼ cup (55 g) sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt, divided
8 tablespoons (115 g) cool goat butter (or 1 stick unsalted cow butter, if you must), cut into small cubes
¼ cup (60 ml) almond or vegetable oil
2 large eggs, divided
½ cup (120 ml) cold regular goat milk (do not use low-fat—or you can use whole cow milk, if you must)
2 tablespoons water
1. To start the filling, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Swirl in the olive oil, then add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Fry until the garlic is frizzled at the edges, about 1 minute.
2. Dump in the chopped, wet chard, which will splatter like mad. Stir or toss a bit until wilted; then stir in the cumin, cinnamon, ½ teaspoon salt, and pepper. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and cook until the chard is very soft, about 15 minutes, tossing occasionally.
3. Uncover the skillet and let any excess liquid boil away. The skillet needs to be dry when you’re done. Cool the mixture for 30 minutes in the skillet, then stir in the black-eyed peas and the crumbled cheese. The filling can be made in advance; scrape it into a bowl, cover, and refrigerate for up to 2 days—but let it come back to room temperature before proceeding with the recipe.
4. To make the dough, mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and ½ teaspoon salt in a small bowl. Add the butter and use a pastry cutter or a fork to work it into the flour mixture, pressing the fat through the tines repeatedly, working all around the bowl, until you’ve got a mixture that looks sort of like really coarse cornmeal.
5. Whisk the oil, one of the eggs, and the milk in a small bowl until pretty creamy; then pour this into the dry stuff and stir with a wooden spoon to form a dough. Divide the dough into 20 balls. Set them on a clean, dry part of your work surface and cover with a kitchen towel.
6. To make the empanadas, position the rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven up to 375°F (190°C). Whisk the remaining egg with the water in a small bowl until uniform and light. Set aside.
7. Dust another part of your work surface with a little flour, set a dough ball in the middle of it, and use a rolling pin to roll the dough into a circle about 4 inches (10 cm) in diameter, working the pin in various directions to get a circle without weird bumps in its circumference.
8. Place 2 tablespoons of the chard filling in the center of the circle, then fold the dough circle in half to create a half-moon-shaped empanada. Crimp the open edge closed by pressing the tines of a fork in it all the way around the curve. Brush the top side of the empanada with a little of the egg wash, then set the empanada, washed side up, on a large baking sheet.
9. Repeat steps 7 and 8 with the remaining balls of dough, making all 20 empanadas.
10. Bake the empanadas until golden brown, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool on the baking sheet for 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. Once baked and cooled, the empanadas can be stored in a sealed container at room temperature for 2 or 3 days—or frozen in zip-sealed plastic bags for up to 4 months (reheat them on a baking sheet in a preheated 350°F [175°C] oven for 10 minutes or so).
MORE TO KNOW
The goat milk needs to be cold so that it doesn’t melt the cut-in butter, thereby making the dough too soft for rolling out.
These are a traditional Syrian wonder, and a great appetizer for any party: crunchy fried goat cheese cigars that get dipped into honey. Wow. The real key here is the pepper: Aleppo, a dark red, musky but still fruity, cumin-scented, medium-heat pepper. Bruce has fallen so in love with the stuff that he’s swapped out the black peppercorns in his everyday grinder for these little wonders.
9 ounces (255 g) fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese
½ cup (115 g) chopped, fresh cilantro leaves
2 teaspoons freshly ground Aleppo pepper
3 large egg yolks, divided
16 spring roll wrappers, thawed if necessary
Peanut oil, for frying
Honey, for dipping
1. Mix the fresh chèvre or soft goat cheese, cilantro, pepper, and one of the egg yolks in a bowl until creamy and smooth.
2. Whisk the 2 remaining egg yolks in a second bowl until creamy and light.
3. Put a spring roll wrapper on a dry, clean part of your counter so that it makes a diamond in front of you (one point facing you). Put 1 tablespoon of the goat cheese filling on it, situated a little toward you from the center, a little toward the “bottom” point.
4. Roll the bottom point over the filling. Then fold the points to the left and right over the filling. Brush the remaining “top” corner with a little of the beaten egg yolks and roll the spring roll over so that it sticks to this egg-washed corner. Press it a little to seal if you need to. One tip: Make sure you roll fairly tightly. Air pockets inside the packet will expand and can pop open as the thing is fried.
5. Repeat steps 3 and 4 with the remaining wrappers, filling, and egg wash.
6. Fill a sauté pan or a high-sided skillet with peanut oil to a depth of 1 inch (2.5 cm). Clip a deep-frying thermometer to the inside of the pan and heat the oil over medium heat until it reaches 325°F (165°C). Drop 4 to 6 briwat rolls into the hot oil—do not crowd the pan—and adjust the temperature so that the oil stays right around 325°F (165°C). Fry until golden, about 6 minutes, turning once. Transfer the rolls to a wire rack with paper towels underneath it to catch any grease drips. Continue frying more. Once you’ve got them all done, set them on a serving platter with a bowl of honey on the side to dip them in one at a time. Pure bliss.
MORE TO KNOW
While the Aleppo pepper is one key to this dish, another is the honey. Think about it: The tastes are pretty simple; each flavor is important. Go with a fragrant, floral, artisanal honey—like star thistle or eucalyptus. Or try one of the dark tree honeys, like chestnut, oak, or even the herbaceous pine.
