FRANCE, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The Gérard Depardieu of cheese—a burly quiet type.
When people ask for a mild or medium Cheddar, Cantal comes to mind. It’s not a Cheddar, but it is vaguely reminiscent of the rugged farmhouse-style cheeses that come out of Somerset where real British Cheddar is made. In fact, rumor has it that French missionaries actually brought Cantal to Somerset, inspiring the first Cheddar. (Just don’t bring this up in a pub on a hot night, or fur might fly.) Cantal comes in keg-like wheels with a rustic rind, and its taste is buttery with just a hint of tang. As a table cheese, this gentle giant can enliven an otherwise humdrum lunch. It also melts like a dream.
Cantal takes its name from a mountain range within the Massif Central, where it originates. Early references to this cheese go back more than 2,000 years—long before Roquefort—when Pliny the Elder wrote about it in his 37-volume Naturae Historiae, the first encyclopedia. Today, Cantal is a name-controlled cheese, prized by the French. Look for a young wheel that’s been aged two to six months (doré) for medium sharpness. For a spunkier version, ask for a sample that’s been aged more than six months (vieux). It will have a reddish rind.
Good matches: Plane this onto sandwiches or set out a hunk with some dry-cured salami, preferably one that’s not too peppery. Apples or apple jelly pair well, and so do walnuts. Cantal is fantastic on a grilled cheese sandwich destined for dipping into tomato soup.
Wine/beer: Pair this with a fruity Beaujolais or white Bordeaux. Otherwise, nab a wheat beer and head for the hills.
SPAIN, GOAT’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A puckish dandy in a velvetine jacket—eccentric and beguiling.
Spain is famous for its hard sheep’s milk cheeses, which makes this goaty buddy something of an anomaly. Its flavor profile is also unusual: imagine Brazil nuts, the scent of lemongrass. These notes can be bold or subtle, depending on the ripeness, so always ask for a taste of Garrotxa (pronounced Gah-ROH-cha). If you’re a dogged lover of caprine delights, this is a must try. It’s especially good for a Sunday lunch when you want to wake up a sleepy palate and invigorate a plate of cold cuts and olives.
Here’s how to recognize this fairy nubbin: Garrotxa’s rind is brown and fuzzy, like a layer of fine velvet. This is an edible coat, but some find it off-putting. No matter. Focus your attention on the ivory paste, which is smooth and clean tasting. Garrotxa is a fairly new cheese, first made in the 1980s, and while it’s very popular in Northern Spain, it’s just beginning to put its paws on American cheese plates. Serve it at a party, and you’ll be ahead of your fashionable friends.
Good matches: Serve this as a table cheese alongside Catalan olives, a dish of walnuts, golden honey, and Spanish ham. For a special evening, pair it with a few Spanish cheese sidekicks, like Monte Enebro (page 78), Idiazábal (page 49), and Valdéon (page 240).
Wine/beer: Garrotxa yearns for summery Vinho Verde, Cava, or a lemony wheat beer
UNITED STATES, RAW GOAT’S MILK
PERSONALITY: Summery, almost flowery, like a jam-band lover in overalls.
It’s hard to stop with the superlatives when it comes to this raw goat cheese from Longmont, Colorado. It’s full of flavor—nutty and herbaceous—and yet delicate, making it a dream cheese to serve alongside spring and summer produce. If you want a smooth, firm Manchegolike cheese that captures the terroir of the Rockies, this is your next breath of heaven.
Queso de Mano is handmade by Jim Schott, an educator who left his job in the late ’80s to launch a goat farm with his wife. Just as he was getting started, his wife died of cancer and his college-age daughter, Gretchen, stepped in to help. Their beautiful cheeses quickly won awards, and in 2005, Saveur listed this as one of fifty best artisanal cheeses in America. An interesting fact: Haystack Mountain Creamery supports a prison work program by purchasing goat’s milk from the state pen in Canon City. Now that’s collaboration.
Good matches: Figs, apricots, honey, and homemade preserves are lovely additions to this subtle cheese. For a mountain cheese plate, add smoked trout, blackberries, and tender greens.
Wine/beer: Pair this with a Sauvignon Blanc or Gamay Beaujolais. A wheat beer or fruit beer also works well. Good Juju, a ginger-kissed beer from Colorado’s Left Hand Brewing Co., is an especially fine pairing.
SPAIN, RAW SHEEP’S MILK
PERSONALITY: An enthralling romantic who prefers the smoking table in the back.
Pronounced iddy-ah-THAW-ball, this Basque cheese is nutty and buttery with a trace of wood smoke. Imagine a mountain campsite with still burning coals in the fire pit—can you smell grass? Wooly ruminants? Yup, then you’ve got Idiazábal in mind. Although this cheese shares similarities with Manchego (page 51), its smoky quality is unique, and so is the richness of the milk from indigenous Lata sheep. Originally, shepherds hung wheels of Idiazábal in their chimneys to cure, and although wheels are hung in more conventional smoke rooms today, this is still a rustic beauty.
In Spain, Idiazábal is highly prized. Its name-controlled status means that supply is limited but that the quality is excellent. The rind can be nut-brown or saffron-yellow, but the interior should be beige or white. Forget the tricky pronunciation and dive right in. Faint caramel notes make this an unforgettable cheese at the end of a big meal.
Good matches: Make this the centerpiece of a Spanish cheese plate, along with olives, quince paste, and Serrano ham. Or, try shaving it over asparagus, pasta, or leafy salads. After dinner, serve it with nougaty hunks of Spanish Turrón.
Wine/beer: Pair this with a medium-bodied Spanish red, like a Rioja or Navarra. A Pilsner or pale ale also works well. After dinner, try it with a dark lager.
SPAIN, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A friendly Spanish “Cheddar” that plays well with others.
When it’s young, this cheese from the sea-swept island of Menorca is fruity and fudgy, a good match for olives and cured meats. Aged, or curado, Mahón morphs into something quite interesting: a firm, flaky cheese with luxuriant apricot notes and plenty of nutty warmth. Mahón Curado is especially appealing to Cheddar lovers who enjoy the toasty aroma of a well-aged Cabot (page 165); after six to eight months, the sea air turns this otherwise ordinary morsel into sweet-salty epiphany. Break out the sherry and the love poems. (We suggest Frederico Garcia Lorca’s “Romance Sonambulo” as an ideal pairing.)
You can always tell a Mahón from its rind, which is amber from the application of olive oil and paprika. These ingredients are rubbed into the surface of the cheese as it ages, a tradition that extends back at least a century. Although this is a name-controlled cheese, you’ll find that the taste and quality vary widely, depending on the maker. Avoid the bland supermarket variety dipped in orange wax, and look for a wheel of golden Mahón glistening with crystals.
Good matches: A really good hunk of Mahón is worthy of a party. Light some skull candles, and set out Serrano ham, Spanish olives, Marcona almonds, and dried figs or fig cake. Then cue the guitars.
Wine/beer: Fruity Spanish reds love to nuzzle up next to this one. Try a Tempranillo, a spicy Rioja, or, best of all, a Clos Lojen made from the indigenous Spanish grape variety, Bobal. On a hot night, an IPA is stellar.
In the course of our hundreds of beer and cheese pairings, we have identified a few absolutes. One of them is that any good farmhouse Cheddar paired with any craft IPA will, at worst, be really good. At best, this pairing is transcendent, elevating both beer and cheese to heights unattainable in their own rights. But pairing IPA and Cheddar on a weekly basis can get redundant, so eventually we forced ourselves to eat and drink outside the box.
We like to think of Mahón as the Cheddar of Spain, if for no other reason than that it is an aged, sharp cow’s milk cheese. Mahón’s sharpness comes through as grapefruit citrus, and paired with an apricot-y IPA like Dogfish Head 60 Minute, the combination is sublime. This is easily one of my all-time top 10 pairings.
— CHEESEMONGER HUNTER FIKE
SPAIN, SHEEP’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A bathing beauty, oil-slathered and striking but rather shy.
Manchego is always touted as Spain’s most famous cheese, probably because Cervantes alluded to it in Don Quixote. For all its literary cachet, Manchego is rather timid, preferring to hide behind olives or quince paste rather than take center stage. If you are grilling or chilling, this is a fine accent on a snack plate, but it definitely needs companionship. Play off its olive and almond notes, its salted-butter undertones, especially with red wines and cured meat.
The dark, plaited rind of Manchego is its most striking attribute. Originally, this hard cheese was formed in woven grass molds, and although plastic forms are used today, the wheels still come with those tweed-like impressions and a glistening coat of olive oil. A well-aged wheel should pop with the taste of acorns and wild grass, which are part of the diet for the durable Manchega sheep that roam La Mancha’s high plateau. Their fatty milk gives this cheese its heft, and at fifty percent fat, you’ll notice Manchego bead with “sweat” once it warms to room temp. Don’t let it bask on a cheese board for too long.
Good matches: Manchego pairs well with dates, honey, almonds, olives, cured Spanish ham, and roasted red peppers. In Spain, it’s traditionally served with thin slices of membrillo, or quince paste. Try it in pesto (see recipe, page 53).
Wine/beer: Go for a glass of Cava or Rioja. A malty beer with a tinge of sweetness works well, and so does a glass of sherry. With a savory pairing, try a gin cocktail. Really.
Next time you’re BBQing outdoors, try grilling fresh fig halves and serving each one draped with a slice of Manchego. The cheese will soften over the warm figs, and the flavors will mingle beautifully. It’s a good idea to toss the figs in a little olive oil before you put them on the grill rack so they don’t dry out. Once you plate these and add the cheese, try a few cranks of black pepper and a drizzle of honey, but only if you really want to wow the neighbors.