UNITED STATES, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A handsome Vermonter with butter on the brain.
Ask any cheesemonger about his or her favorite American “bloomy”—a common term for downy-rinded cheeses—and you will probably hear about Moses Sleeper. If you don’t, raise your brow and look disappointed. Moses Sleeper is probably the most revered Brie-style cheese coming out of the United States. It’s everything you could want in a French cheese except that it’s not from around Paris; it’s from Greensboro, Vermont.
Expert cheesemaker Mateo Kehler, the heartthrob of the American dairy scene, created Moses Sleeper a few years ago, using milk from his pasture-raised Ayrshire cows. The result is a lush, sweet, palate-coating experience. Young, this cheese tastes like butter and hay; as it ripens, you may detect traces of walnuts and steamed cauliflower, which are typical in Camembert-style cheeses. Note the delicate rind—it’s not a bath mat; it’s a thin veneer of mold that yields easily between your teeth. This is the mark of a great bloomy cheese.
Good matches: Pair Moses Sleeper with brandied cherries or blackberry jam, or swing savory with sautéed mushrooms. For a beguiling appetizer, toast some baguette rounds, top them with pear slices and hunks of Moses Sleeper, then broil them for a minute or two before adding a drizzle of honey.
Wine/beer: Champagne or a light Beaujolais work well here, and so do Belgian Tripels and saisons. Norman cider works nicely with especially ripe wheels.
UNITED STATES, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The Pearl of the Poconos.
If you want to taste France in Pennsylvania, Noble Road is the most direct dairy route. This beautiful “Brie” from Calkins Creamery is made by Emily Bryant Montgomery, a woman who knows how to draw sweet, vegetal notes out of her Wayne County Holstein milk. Until recently, Montgomery used raw milk for these wheels, making them a much sought-after delicacy across the East Coast, but fear of an FDA crackdown has caused her to shift to pasteurization. No matter: her cheeses still reflect quality craftsmanship and delicious flavor.
Noble Road is like a feast packed inside a little trousseau. The texture is sumptuous with distinct notes of lemon and mushrooms. You might as well be on a spring picnic—you can practically taste clover, chive blossoms, burbling brooks, and bees buzzing around the hooves of Holsteins. You can taste the field. No wonder this cheese is named Noble Road, after the path that runs past the Bryant’s farm. What a way to celebrate land that’s been in the family for five generations.
Good matches: Start with a great baguette. If you need anything to supplement the experience, serve a little honey and sliced pears or apples. The vegetal notes in this cheese also pair well with sautéed mushrooms, artichokes, and asparagus. Try folding Noble Road into an omelet along with any of these items—be sure to top it with fresh chives and a squeeze of lemon.
Wine/beer: Pour a glass of Champagne or a Duvel. Like the best of Bries, it needs bubbly to cleanse the palate and offset the lush texture. For something interesting, try a pint of Saranac Pomegranate Wheat.
ITALY, SHEEP AND COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The middle child between Brie and Taleggio: an adult cupcake.
Robiola, also known as Due Latte (two milks), is a good excuse to travel to Italy. This luscious beast from the northern climes is soft and runny-creamy with a wrinkled surface that looks like a brain—cheeses with this sort of appearance are often labeled “brainy.” Now you know why. If you like Taleggio (page 158), you’ll find this slightly more lady-like cousin friendly and compatible as long as it’s not too ripe. Like a good Brie, the aroma of Robiola should be mushroomy and pleasant, without any bulldoggish odors or traces of ammonia.
Cheese aficionado and writer Janet Fletcher says the taste of Robiola reminds her of “rice pudding,” simple and direct. This is an excellent cheese for entertaining; its paper wrapper looks like a crinoline hoop skirt, and its chenille-like surface intrigues the eye. For a Lombardy party, pair this off with a round of La Tur (page 104), which is made by the same dairy, and you will have guests weeping into hankies and kissing in doorways. You may never serve plain ol’ Brie again.
Good matches: Understated pairings serve this cheese best: a few berries, some almonds, a spot of honey. For a festive first course, serve Robiola on toasted baguette rounds with a tuft of tart cherry preserves and a crank of black pepper.
Wine/beer: Prosecco all the way; otherwise, pour a pilsner or wheat beer.
FRANCE, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: Anna Pavlova in a little crock.
This is the perfect cheese for one. Okay, two. It’s the size of a small pastry and so fragile, so very fragile, it comes packed in its own little crock. The surface is netting-thin, the center silky and supple. Really, this cheese is a tiny tutu in a box. Pack it for a picnic or, better yet, wrap it in a hanky and take it to the ballet. It would be fantastic during intermission.
Mild and slightly mushroomy, Saint Marcellin is similar to Banon (page 88), sans chestnut leaves. A large format version is sold as Saint Felicien, but then you don’t get the crock, and it’s quite elegant—great for serving olives or almonds in later. Take care to ask about the ripeness of this cheese. It gets bolder and softer as it ages, so you’ll want to know what to expect, especially if you plan on pairing it with wine.
Good matches: Try this on a cheese plate with apple slices and toasted baguette or brioche rounds. In Lyon, Saint Marcellin is a ubiquitous cheese often served on top of salads. Try it in place of a poached egg on top of salad Lyonnaise. All you need is a little frisée, some bitter greens, lardons or thick-cut bacon, a light vinaigrette, and some buttery croutons.
Wine/beer: Lean toward a Rhône red, a Gewürztraminer, or a sparkling French wine. An effervescent abbey beer works well, too.
AUSTRALIA, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A minx, utterly buttery and impudent.
Compared to many other triple crèmes, Seal Bay is a yacht amid a sea of flotation devices. It comes in a thickish log, about the size and shape of a woman’s arm. Add kid gloves and you get the visual: this is a downy log of sexy sexiness with an absolutely supple texture and a flavor that can only be described as “Champagne-ready.”
If you flinch at mushroomy Bries, you’ve got a friend in Seal Bay. Nothing offends; everything is pleasant and pearlescent. You can strike words like “bite” or “tang” from your triple crème lexicon because this cheese doesn’t have even one freaky quality. To add to the glamour, it’s made on a remote island situated between Australia and Tasmania where designer cows eat designer grass, or something like that. King Island’s lush pastures make this cheese what it is. Go ahead, run a fingertip through it like frosting.
Good matches: Seal Bay pairs nicely with berries and preserves. Try a thin layer of apricot, peach, or cherry jam. It’s so rich that you could easily serve it for dessert with thin slices of pound cake or very thin gingersnaps.
Wine/beer: Offer flutes of champagne or sparkling cocktails (try a Kir Royale or Bellini). For something different, fill champagne glasses with sour cherry kriek, a wonderful Belgian fruit beer.
ITALY, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: Like truffle bubblegum, with ash.
If you ever need to beg someone for forgiveness or repent for a petty deed, take a sartorial hunk of Sottocenere. It’s great for bargaining with the heart of a jilted lover. Few who see it can refuse a taste, let alone look away. That’s because Sottocenere (pronounced so-toe-chen-NAY-ray) comes dusted with a thin layer of toasted cinnamon, nutmeg, coriander, and licorice. Its name literally means “under ash.” Those might sound like bold flavors, but they are a mere caress in the dark; what you really taste here is sweet milk and black truffles. Don’t hold back. Put your face down next to this one and breathe it in. Then whisper, “Forgive me.”
Sottocenere is made in Italy’s Veneto region, a lushly agrarian area that encompasses two romantic cities, Venice and Verona. It’s also the seat of romantic cuisine: steamy polenta, fruity Asiago, salty prosciutto, and this butterball of a cheese stuffed with truffley bits. Other truffle cheeses exist, but this one brings the wild pigs out of the woodwork. No one can refuse its bread-doughy softness, its dapper rind.
Good matches: A porch swing, a hot tub—you can and should eat this one anywhere and everywhere. Make sure you’ve got a good baguette to go with it, and if you want to get fancy, serve slices of musky melon. Sottocenere is also dreamy tossed into polenta, scrambled eggs, or risotto.
Wine/beer: Reach for bubbly or Barbera. A yeasty beer with soft tones, like a wheat beer, also works.
Next time you’re looking to dress up a Philly cheesesteak, take a cue from Good Dog Bar and Restaurant, where the menu includes truffley cheesesteak empanadas made with Sottocenere. All you need is a decent hoagie roll and a thick slab of this cheese to slip under your chopped beef and fried onions. Trust us, you won’t miss the “Whiz” when you see how well this melts and you taste that little bit of unearthly mushroom; it’s like the Italians made Sottocenere for South Philly. Amen.
ENGLAND, GOAT’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A doughy heartbreaker with a rugged shell.
One glance at Ticklemore through the window of a cheese shop, and you might think you are gazing at a crustacean. The exterior looks like a bumpy whelk with fine caramel-colored striations, but cut into the paste and you’ll find a nougaty softness that gives off the warm smell of yeast doughnuts. The flavor is delicate, mildly sweet, doughy, and a touch lemony and herbaceous. Look for a wedge that’s fudgy under the rind, a sign of ripeness.
Debbie Mumford and Mark Sharman make Ticklemore at Sharpham Creamery in Devon with milk from a nearby farmer who lets his ladies roam the Dartmoor plains. Their heath-healthy diet of grasses and hedgerows infuses the milk with a wild range of flavors, making Ticklemore one of the most sublimely nuanced goat cheeses anywhere. You won’t taste any sketchy tang, just supple herbs and petals. Once you try it, you’ll understand why Di Bruno Bros. can barely keep it in stock.
Good matches: This cheese needs nothing to accompany it, but if you want to play off its herbal undertones, serve it with lavender honey and a walnut scone or some thyme-flecked biscuits.
Wine/beer: Try Beaujolais or dry Riesling. A wheat beer with plenty of citrus snap works well, and so does a saison.
UNITED STATES, GOAT’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The Victoria’s Secret model of goat cheese, a tantric truffle experience.
Few cheeses have arrived on the American cheese scene to such fanfare. When Mary Keehn of Cypress Grove Dairy released this soft-ripened goat cheese studded with black truffles in 2009, it raked in awards at major food shows around the world. For a while, it was impossible to find. People hoarded every toothsome crumb, holding private Truffle Tremor parties behind closed doors. Imagine rooms full of quaking cheese fiends, sipping from Champagne flutes and smiling truffled smiles.
This is a velvety, earthy cheese—aromatic and elegant. The whisker-like truffle bits are subtle enough to let the milk sing. The rind looks very much like the downy coat of a Brie or a wheel of Humboldt Fog (page 74) Keehn’s other famous cheese. Notice that as Truffle Tremor ages, a creamline forms just below the rind while the center remains smooth and slightly chalky. These contrasting textures make for a gorgeous cheese-eating experience. Serve this at a party, and you will have friends for life.
Good matches: All this needs is some really good baguette, a handful of dark grapes, and maybe a dish of walnuts or toasted hazelnuts.
Wine/beer: A yeasty Champagne is the only way to go here, unless you favor an effervescent saison.
UNITED STATES, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The baby of the family, diminutive and gentle.
Weybridge is a small medallion of organic double crème made from the cheesemakers’ special herd of heritage Dutch Belted cows, a breed with a prominent white stripe around the middle. Patty and Roger Scholten make this cheese with their four children in Middlebury, Vermont, then pass it on to the state’s premier ageing facility, The Caves at Jasper Hill, for finishing. The Scholtens are very focused cheese-makers; they funnel all of their energy into producing this single disc, named after their tiny hometown.
Young Weybridge is dense and fudgy, but it turns molten as it matures. It’s known for its small format—one 3-ounce round serves two to three people—and for its dense, luxurious texture. Although it’s only a double crème, it’s very rich. The Scholtens like to serve Weybridge for breakfast since the flavor is mild with a slightly toasty quality along the rind.
Good matches: Weybridge’s slightly tart flavor makes it a good fit for jam. Set out a basket of berries and some fresh bread. For a Vermont-themed cheese plate, add a hunk of Tarentaise (page 132), a wedge of Reading Raclette (page 129), and a bluesy slab of Bayley Hazen (page 227).
Wine/beer: Pick a grassy Grüner Veltliner or a glass of Champagne. A farmhouse-style saison works perfectly.
UNITED STATES, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The craft brewer’s fave, a lambic-inspired hipster.
Few cheeses are celebrated with the kind of fanfare that Winnimere receives when these spruce-bound wheels are released each winter. The reason for this hoopla is twofold: Winnimere comes from a pair of highly respected cheesemaking brothers at Jasper Hill Farm in Vermont, and it’s a cheese that pairs well with craft beer. In fact, when the Kehler brothers began making this cheese, they washed it in their own lambic brewed from wild yeast that was harvested in their cheese cave. Cheeses don’t get much geekier than this.
Today, the Kehlers use a brine wash, but they still experiment with bathing small batches of Winnimere in suds from around the country, which makes for an interesting twist on “local.” For cheese geeks, these arranged marriages offer a chance to taste just how a boozy wash can affect the taste of an American cheese. On the whole, Winnimere smacks of bacon, spruce bark, caramelized onions, and toasted hazelnuts. It’s lumberjacky. The recipe is based on Vacherin Mont d’Or (page 136), a seasonal mindbender from the Swiss Alps. If Winnimere boggles your brain, seek out Rush Creek Reserve (page 132), another American Vacherin-style cheese, this time from Wisconsin. They’re both incredible.
Good matches: It’s criminal to eat Winnimere without a spoon. Bring your wheel to room temperature, peel back the rind like a sardine can, and scoop the soupy insides onto bread. A jar of really good marmalade makes for a stunning pairing. Toast some walnuts alongside.
Wine/beer: You can go with a Gewürztraminer, by all means, but this is such a stunning cheese to pair with beer you’d be remiss not to grab a few brews. Try a lambic, gueuze, or saison. Better yet, pick up all three and notice how each bottle brings out different notes in this cheese.
When the first wheels of Winnimere arrive from Jasper Hill in late fall, the holiday rush is usually full on at Di Bruno Bros. Busy cheesemongers have been known to skip lunch and snack on Winnimere with potato chips. The combination is strangely alluring, especially if you use salt-and-vinegar potato chips—cheesemonger Rocco Rainone calls these “the poor man’s cornichons.” Try serving Winnimere as a dip for potato chips at a party, but only in the company of your most laid-back friends. Some will no doubt find the thought of Winnimere and lowbrow snack food appalling.