UNITED STATES, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The Dick Dale of Cheddars, full of surf punk.
Cheddars, like guitars, can have different tones. This star from Modesto, California, is decidedly electric. It’s full-flavored and creamy on the tongue with a dynamite horseradishy finish. If you like Vermont’s Cabot Clothbound (page 165) or Montgomery’s Cheddar (page 172), try this for an eye-opening experience. It’s like a cheese and a jam session all in one.
Fiscalini is a collaboration between Vermont-trained cheesemaker Mariano Gonzalez and California dairy farmer John Fiscalini. Both are committed to their Holsteins and to land stewardship; the creamery uses farm waste to generate electricity, thereby reducing greenhouse gases. This is truly a cutting-edge Cheddar, and the quality is on par with the great British clothbounds of Somerset.
Good matches: Grate this into grits, layer it on top of burgers, or put Fiscalini out on a cheese board with some apple butter, toasted walnuts, and brown bread. This cheese can also stand up to a variety of sweet pickles or tangy chutney.
Wine/beer: Pair this with a California Cabernet or a West Coast IPA, like Stone Brewing’s Arrogant Bastard Ale.
ITALY, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The home brewer’s cheese of choice, flecked with spent barley.
From Piedmont, this creamy disk studded with spent barley from Le Baladin brewery packs two great flavors together under one rind: beer and cheese. You’ll smell yeasty goodness when you peel back the wrapper, and you’ll taste plenty of toasty malt on the finish. There are lots of beer-washed cheeses on the market, but it’s rare to find one that contains actual remnants of the fermentation process. The addition of spent barley in the paste and along the exterior lends a nutty taste to an otherwise earthy, subtle cheese—you may even think you’re eating almond butter.
Frumage Baladin also gets its taste from cardoons, a wild thistle that can be used as a coagulant in place of animal rennet. The flavor of cardoons is decidedly vegetal, much like an artichoke, but in this cheese the taste plays second fiddle to the yeasty barley. Frumage Baladin is handmade at a solar-powered cheese company called Le Fattorie Fiandino, a family business that dates back to the 1700s.
Good matches: On a cheese plate, pair this with sweet Coppa salami, almonds, dried apricots, grapes, and whole wheat or sourdough bread.
Wine/beer: A barleywine or Trappist ale are ideal pairings, since this is a beer-centric cheese. If you prefer wine, pick a light white with vegetal notes.
WALES, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: An underground legend marked by earthy, low-fi notes.
Gorwydd Caerphilly (GOR-with care-PHILLY) is the turducken of cheese. It has three distinct layers: a mushroomy rind, a subcutaneous streak marked by cauliflower notes, and a chalky center that’s full of lemony tang. Try each layer separately, then together, for a taste of masterful cheesemaking. Caerphilly originated in the 1800s as a Welsh miner’s cheese. Rumor has it that wives used to wrap Caerphilly in cabbage leaves and send it off to the mines in their husbands’ lunches. The thick rind made it easy to transport, and the earthy qualities were believed to offset the dangers of inhaling coal dust.
Today this exceptional cheese is made by the Trethowan family. They bear the distinction of being trained by the last maker of original Caerphilly, Chris Duckett. Like so many British cheeses, this one nearly died out during World War II when cheese was rationed and cheese-makers were required to support the war effort by producing government Cheddar. Neal’s Yard Dairy in London ages Gorwydd Caerphilly for several months, or until the rind turns velveteen.
Good matches: In summer, set out a hunk of this rustic cheese alongside steamed farmers’ market vegetables. It’s especially good with asparagus. In winter, serve it with cabbage soup, stew, or shepherd’s pie.
Wine/beer: Try a Pinot Noir or a spicy Alsatian white, but the best pairing is probably hard cider or a yeasty wheat beer. Golden Monkey, a Belgian-style Tripel, is a cheesemonger favorite.
SCOTLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A happy drunk with a thick Scottish brogue.
Take a whiff of this curious cheese from the Inner Hebrides and you’ll smell a malty distillery. That’s because the cows at Sgriob-rudh (Gaelic for “red furrow”) Farm are fed the spent barley from whiskey production at the local Tobermory Distillery. Oh happy day, a clothbound Cheddar that tastes like a Scotch!
This sweet, peaty cheese is made on a small farm run by husband-and-wife team Chris and Ian Reade and their sons. The Reades raise their own animals and are very particular about their milk, which is evident in each rugged-looking wheel. The color of the paste varies depending on the season (in winter, this cheese is white; in summer, golden), and sometimes you’ll find a lightning bolt of greenish spores. No worries, that’s just a little ambient blue mold sneaking into a fissure. The Reade family encourages such rebellious streaks.
Good matches: Put out the mustard, the pretzels, the apple butter, and key up the player piano. This cheese will make you want to roll back the rug and dance jigs.
Wine/beer: Skip the wine and go right for the Scotch (Tobermory, if possible). A smoked beer or cask-aged barleywine makes for a ravishing side.
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A salty granny from Somerset with a pocket flask of vinegar.
In the world of traditional Cheddar, there are two reigning British monarchs: Montgomery’s (page 172) and Keen’s. Both hail from Somerset and are made by hand, then smeared with lard, and wrapped in cloth. Every cheesemonger secretly roots for one or the other, and yet ripping on either would be a sacrilege. Make like the Pepsi Challenge, and ask to taste both Keen’s and Montgomery’s side by side. You’ll see why they’ve won so many British Cheese Awards and received a special demarcation from the heritage organization, Slow Food.
The best way to distinguish Keen’s? Think salt ‘n’ vinegar potato chips. Look for a whiff of vinegar on the nose that turns sharp and salty as it unfolds on your tongue. Keen’s is not your sweet, earthy charmer, which is how you might characterize Montgomery’s; it’s a barracuda, full of acidic succulence and teeth! If you want the sharpest British Cheddar on the block, Keen’s is your baby. It’s made by George and Stephen Keen, who carry on the cheesemaking tradition established by their Great-Aunt Jane in 1898.
Good matches: Grab some rustic bread, a jar of coarsely ground mustard, a crisp apple, and some bread and butter pickles. Done.
Wine/beer: Open a Pinot Noir or Cabernet; few things are better, however, than Cheddar and IPA.
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A deep, thoughtful Cheddary sort with a slightly smoky aura.
If you’re a fan of British Cheddar, this variation is especially interesting, in part because it’s made on the east coast of England where the soil is chalky—much different from the lush pastures of Somerset where most Cheddars are birthed. You can taste the different climate in this cheese’s nutty, herby undertones; it’s almost as if there’s a Gruyère tiptoeing in the background. The texture is dry, bordering on brittle, but it softens quickly on the tongue.
Lincolnshire Poacher is considered one of the all-time great British cheeses. It’s produced at Ulceby Grange in Alford under the watch of two young brothers, Simon and Tim Jones, who have fully embraced traditional British cheese-making on their family’s fourth-generation farm. The Jones brothers have figured out how to sustainably raise crops and run a dairy in an area where few farms exist. Although Lincolnshire Poacher is a fairly new cheese, it’s won many awards, including Best British Cheese at the World Cheese Awards in 2001.
Good matches: Figs, apples, chutney, and toasted or smoked nuts are always welcome when serving this cheese. For something a little different, try dried mango or dried pineapple.
Wine/beer: This cheese loves dark beer, bourbon, or a Cab blend. A Chardonnay also works well.
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: The Henry Rollins of Cheddar: artful, big, a well-rounded performer.
Many cheeses have groupies, but Montgomery’s Cheddar has fanatics. This clothbound cheese made by Jamie Montgomery of Somerset is made by hand, using a traditional peg mill to break down the curds—a process that was used in “cheddaring” prior to World War II. Montgomery’s is not just one of the best Cheddars in the world; it’s really one of the best cheeses in existence. The taste is sublime: round, complex, and yet subtle. The folks at Neal’s Yard Dairy who age this cheese have compared the flavor to caramelized crackling “on a Sunday roast.”
If you’ve been raised on block Cheddar, consider this your awakening. Montgomery’s Cheddar isn’t aged in plastic like so much American cheese; it’s smeared with lard, bound in cloth, then tucked away in an ageing cave for a year or more. The process lends a unique taste to the cheese, especially near the rind. If that earthiness is unappealing to you, simply dig in closer to the center of the wheel where the paste is sweet and fruity.
Good matches: Eat this cheese alone in your room. If you offer some to friends, don’t fuss with too many accompaniments. Perhaps a handful of nuts, some sliced apples.
Wine/beer: Pour a glass of jammy Zin or Cabernet, or seek out an English Bitter or crisp British Pale Ale.
I had the pleasure of visiting Manor Farm in March of 2007. This is an impressive place, with gleeful, grazing cattle, green pastures, and an enormous farmhouse packed with maturing Cheddars. But what stood out to me had nothing to do with cheese. It was James Montgomery’s office.
It looked like a tornado had recently blown through. Awards, certificates, and other verifications of excellence were strewn about in random piles on his desk and chair and falling from the shelves. Jason, my guide and Neal’s Yard correspondent, prodded him a bit about whether he planned to hang the awards, and Montgomery acknowledged, “Yeah…I have to get to that someday.”
He then urged us to follow him into a room where set wheels of Cheddar were being larded and bound in cloth. “I want to show you something,” he said, grinning. He led us to a stainless steel table with a space beneath it so hot water could warm the cheese as it was prepared for ageing—it was an invention he had been working on for the last couple years. The warm surface kept the lard soft as the wheel was enrobed in cloth. “This gives it a tighter seal, and will do a better job of keeping out the mites,” he said proudly.
I remember turning back toward the office, staring at the mountains of awards he had won. Worldwide acclaim lay all around on his desk, yet he was indifferent. He only sought opportunities for improvement. It was this commitment to excellence that inspired me to give my son the middle name “Montgomery.” What better example could I set for my child?
–CHEESEMONGER HUNTER FIKE
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A rogue melter, otherwise known as “West Country Raclette.”
If you go to London’s Borough Market, one of the highlights for any eater is an Ogleshield sandwich made on rye bread with red onions. Melted, this rough-and-tumble British stinker turns into sumptuous goo. If you have a thing for Raclette (page 129), you will turn into an Ogleshield worshipper. At room temp, this is a fudgy golden wedge with tiny eyes (holes) and an orange rind. The smell is pungent and, as with many washed-rind cheeses, a tad peanutty.
Ogleshield is made by the great Cheddar master James Montgomery of Somerset, who named this cheese after a battle shield found on his land (his farm is thought to be the original Camelot). He sent a trial batch to William Oglethorpe, head of the cave at Neal’s Yard Dairy, who improved upon this cheese by washing its rind. The collaboration resulted in a new name that reflected both parents: Ogleshield. Its creamy appeal comes, in part, from Jersey milk, rather than Friesian-Holstein milk, which Montgomery uses to make his famous Cheddar.
Good matches: Drape slices of Ogleshield over warm potatoes, grilled leeks, French onion soup, or a flame-licked burger.
Wine/beer: A roasty, malty beer is the best partner. Otherwise, pour a glass of Pinot Noir.
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A gentle giant named after a bull, worshipped by those in the know.
Sparkenhoe Red Leicester (pronounced “lester”) is famous in the cheese world for its gentle complexity. It was invented by an English farmer in 1745 to honor his prize bull, Sparkenhoe, and over time it became wildly popular as a Cheshire County cheese. Like all great inventions, it was copied, warped, then abandoned, until a recent pair of British cheese-makers named David and Jo Clarke decided to resurrect the original recipe in its native region.
You can see the care that goes into this rare beauty, which is handmade and bound in cloth. The Clarkes pasture-raise their cows, which means you can practically taste the British countryside. Don’t be turned off by the gonzo orange color—it’s natural, from the annatto plant, which produces a russet dye. The texture is dry, perfect for shaving over a fall salad for a splash of color. The taste is faintly sweet, nutty, and toasty with just a slight tang.
Good matches: Serve this with smoked ham, caramelized pecans, and dried cherries for a lovely snack plate. It’s also good toasted on an open-faced sandwich dressed with onion or tomato jam.
Wine/beer: Pick an IPA or a proper British ale. Avoid intense red wines, unless you veer toward nutty and dry, like Amontillado or sherry.
ENGLAND, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A rambunctious blue fox, rare and beguiling.
If you’re a fan of Stilton (page 234), this is the Holy Grail. It’s the only raw-milk Stilton on the market, and yet it cannot, by law, be called Stilton. The story behind Stichelton is this: back in 1989, Stilton became a name-protected cheese in the U.K., a designation that is supposed to assure quality and prevent cheese recipes from being diluted or copied by cheesemakers near and far. Today, only dairies in three shires can make Stilton, and the wheels must conform to certain specifications.
When this law was written, all Stilton was made with pasteurized milk, and so this element became a federal requirement. Lovers of traditional cheese frowned on this stipulation, since Stilton originated in the early 1700s as a raw-milk cheese—long before pasteurization existed. Enter two cheese devotees, Joe Schneider and Randolph Hodgson, who decided to resurrect raw-milk Stilton on a small farm in Nottinghamshire. By law, they couldn’t call this raw-milk classic “Stilton” any more, so they made up the name “Stichelton.” The result is a spicy, savory, ultra rich cheese that boasts hints of walnuts, chocolate, and wet leather.
Good matches: Play up Stichelton’s toasty notes by serving it with a dish of hazelnuts, preferably broiled for a moment and tossed with a pinch of sea salt. Figs, dates, and candied bacon pair beautifully, too.
Wine/beer: Tawny port is perfect, but you might also experiment with barleywine or chocolate stout.
UNITED STATES, RAW COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: A virtuosic cherub who feeds on Schubert and jam.
This special cheese comes from Andante Dairy, a one-woman operation in Petaluma, California. You can taste the quality of the milk in this firm, tomme-style cheese, and you can’t help admiring the creativity that goes into the rind. It’s rubbed down with a mixture of plum brandy mixed with local jam from June Taylor, the cheesemaker’s neighbor and a vendor at the Ferry Plaza market in San Francisco. The flavor of plums pervades this cheese, along with notes of raw almond and salt caramel.
Cheesemaker Soyoung Scanlan works in such small batches that wheels of Tomme Dolce are rarely sold outside of the Bay Area. This is an especially unusual selection from her repertoire because it’s an aged cheese; most of her releases are young, like Largo (page 104). If you can find this toothsome wonder, set aside some time to taste it alone in a room with nothing but classical music to distract you. You may be able to sense that this cheesemaker is a classically trained pianist: each note is pitch-perfect. That’s why she’s a rockstar. Few venues outside of The French Laundry and Di Bruno Bros. offer her masterpieces.
Good matches: Serve Tomme Dolce naked or with a dish of whole blanched almonds.
Wine/beer: Play off the Basque influences in this cheese with a Spanish white, or go for a light Riesling. Fruity wheat beers and lambics work well, but beware of anything too zesty or overpowering.
UNITED STATES, RAW SHEEP’S MILK
PERSONALITY: Rustic and sensuous—a rogue hermit with mutton chops and wild herbs stuck to his beard.
If you enjoy firm sheep’s milk cheeses from the Basque region, you’ll be interested in this award-winning version from a pioneering maker in Putney, Vermont. In the United States, Vermont Shepherd bears the distinction of being one of the oldest and best-known aged sheep’s milk cheeses on the market. David Major and his family began production in the nineties after studying French cheesemaking in the Pyrénées. Today, they milk 250 pasture-raised ewes and make cheese during the spring and summer months. Wheels become available in November and are sold through April, or until the supply runs out. If you get your mits on a wedge, consider yourself lucky.
Vermont Shepherd has the look of a large Brazil nut pressed into the shape of a flying saucer. The rind is husky-looking from cave ageing, and the paste is ivory and waxen. Each wheel varies in flavor with the season, but the dominant tastes are of almonds and herbs. The finish is sweet, almost fruity.
Good matches: Serve this cheese with honey and dried figs or cherry preserves—a classic French Pyrénées match.
Wine/beer: This versatile cheese goes well with an earthy red or a buttery Chardonnay. You could also try a lager or a sweet, malty dopplebock.