UNITED STATES, RAW GOAT’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A tough girl who likes hiking boots and bourbon.
A washed-rind cheese made from goat’s milk? You won’t see this whiffy broad around very often since most washed rinds are made from cow’s milk. That makes Mont Saint Francis something of a legend, a Yeti of the cheese world. Although it’s categorized as a “stinker,” this ruby round doesn’t have the same gusto as an Epoisses (page 143) or a Hooligan (page 148). Its aroma is less barnyardy, its flavors more subdued, though you will still taste beef and onions. Let’s just say you won’t detect as much roasty char—we’re talking slow-cooked pot roast with pearl onions.
Judy Schad makes Mont Saint Francis at Capriole Farm in southern Indiana. Considered one of America’s goat-cheese pioneers, Schad has devoted the last thirty years of her life to raising a healthy herd of 500 nannies and keeping her farm afloat in a county where she runs the last working dairy. Her passion for cheese, and for sustainable farming, extends beyond the barn. She’s a founder of the Raw Milk Cheese-maker’s Association and an active member of Slow Food. Try her other gorgeous creations: Wabash Cannonball (page 83) and Old Kentucky Tomme (page 78).
Good matches: Try serving this cheese with grilled peaches that have been kissed with bourbon and brown sugar—a recommendation from the cheesemaker. On a cheese plate, pair this with other iconic American goat cheeses, like Humboldt Fog (page 74) and Bijou (page 66).
Wine/beer: Offer a round of Kentucky bourbon, or serve this monastic-style cheese with an abbey beer. If you choose wine, select a spicy Pinot Noir or a late-harvest Zinfandel.
FRANCE, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A muscle-y type with an easily identifiable mohawk of ash.
Morbier is one of the most striking cheeses. It has a pale orange rind and a layer of ash that snakes across its middle. Originally, the ash was used to separate evening milk from morning milk; the ash kept the flies away and prevented the curds from drying out when cheesemakers had leftover milk from the night before. Today, the layer of ash is merely decorative, but it gives Morbier a distinct look—kind of like the fins on an old Buick.
A good Morbier should be gently beefy, not bland. The aroma should be yeasty, the center pudgy, almost gooey. Lots of blah Morbier skulks in grocery cases, so always ask for a taste. The best wheels bulge a bit when cut and have a golden, creamy interior.
Good matches: Serve Morbier on a cheese plate with green grapes, walnuts, cured meat, and an array of other French cheeses, like its cousin Comté (page 121). It’s also wonderful melted over potatoes, or toasted on an open-face ham sandwich.
Wine/beer: Go for a fruity red Beaujolais or a rich Pinot Gris, or select a Belgian ale or lager.
FRANCE, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A member of The Addams Family, milky and macabre.
The “Muenster” sold at deli counters is nothing like the real thing invented by medieval French monks. True German Munster is a granny killer—smelly, fiercely flavored, and menacingly orange, at least on the surface. The hue comes from washing the rind with salt water, which adds moisture and encourages bacteria to behave like vampires, breaking down the curds into liquid silk.
Munster is the patriarch of the washed-rind cheese family, a brood that includes whiffy wheels like Epoisses (page 143). The French have perfected this style of cheese making, thanks to their early religious orders. The name “Munster” actually means “monastery.” It’s still made in Alsace; a nearly identical version, called Géromé, is made in Lorraine. In 1978, Munster and Géromé were married when the government decided to recognize them as a single style of heritage cheese. Look for Munster-Géromé. Anything else is a copycat.
Good matches: Make like the French and melt Munster over boiled potatoes, then add a pinch of toasted cumin seeds. For an interesting twist, take the suggestion of food innovator François Chartier, who suggests stuffing chopped rosemary into the center of some Munster and allowing it to macerate for several days before serving it with an Alsatian Gewürz-traminer. The strong floral note in rosemary is a good match for Munster vapors.
Wine/beer: Pick a spicy Gewürztraminer or Alsatian Pinot Gris. A big abbey beer will work well. Consider Allagash Tripel.
ITALY, BUFFALO’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A Taleggio with more luxurious clothes.
Ultra rich cream sandwiched between tender crusts of woodsy rind? Please! The look and feel of this cheese, which resembles a square-shaped panini, has inspired what cheesemongers around Di Bruno Bros. call “cheese on cheese.” It involves using a bready, heady cheese like this one in place of a baguette and stacking meats or other cheeses on top of it. That’s right: total decadence. But if you’re in search of a gluten-free bread substitute, well, an idea like this comes in handy.
Quadrello di Bufala is Lombardy’s gift to Taleggio fans. It’s supple and fudgy with a milkier profile than Taleggio (page 158) and not quite as much funk. The makers, a pair of brothers, raise their own water buffalo and operate a cheese plant that now makes twenty-five different kinds of buffalo-milk cheese. If you like this one, try their Blu di Bufala (page 229) and Casatica di Bufala (page 93). They’re wonderful.
Good matches: For a wicked little appetizer, try Grilled Peaches with Quadrello di Bufala (page 153). On a cheese plate, try the “cheese on cheese” phenomenon described above by using Quadrello as a base layer for cured meats or stronger, funkier cheeses. Red Cat (the beer-bathed sibling cheese of Fat Cat, page 146) is a favorite pairing for this cheese because of its mushroomy, scalliony profile that snuggles right up next to Quadrello’s mild, milky sweetness.
Wine/beer: Try an earthy Italian red, like a Barbera, or a funky beer with plenty of yeasty citrus notes.