Going Basque in West Marin

 Wheels of Baserri in the aging room.

This past September I was fortunate enough to visit Barinaga Ranch in Marshall, CA. Situated on top of a hill just due East of gorgeous Tomales Bay, this small, farmstead operation is rolling out some amazing cheese. The first time I met Marcia Barinaga (cheese maker and shepherd) was a few months prior when I hosted her at the San Francisco Saturday farmer's market at the Ferry Building. Through the hectic few hours she spent under the tent with me, her energy remained constant and her passion obvious. To see her in her element was something entirely different.

Marcia pressing soon-to-be wheels of Baserri (farmhouse is Basque) using bottles of water as weights.

Marcia makes two cheeses - Baserri and Txiki (pronounced cheeky, Basque for "little") which are essentially the same cheese made into two different sizes. The milk is unpasteurized, coming from roughly 40 East Friesian ewes, pasture raised, and milked literally 15 feet from the cheese making room.

While we waited for the milking ladies to make their way from the hills to the barn, we passed around some (raw) milk freshly collected that morning. I do not like milk. But I had to try it... Since it's been six months from my visit, I can't accurately describe all the flavors and nuances of the milk, but I do remember that it was delicious, and I'd gladly drink it every day.

The ewe's arrived shortly after, udders swollen and swinging. Marsha pointed out one in the middle and claimed that she was always first to milk. Sure enough when the gate opened up she had made her way to the front and was first to be strapped into the milking machine. Ovis aries pecking order? While sheep are notoriously stubborn and people-shy, Marsha's flock was serene and anything but skittish. (Unfortunately the camera battery died before I could photograph their cute, woolly selves.) 

The combination of rind and paste smelled of sweet earth on this wedge of Baserri. Its texture was slightly crumbly but melted in my mouth, and it tasted (in the most subtle way) rich, grassy and nutty, with a nice lactic tang to round it out. Wheels I have tasted in the past have varied from floral and herbaceous to slightly gamy. While Baserri isn't always the most consistent cheese, it is consistently good.   

It's lambing season up at Barinaga Ranch, and hopefully in three months time (one month of milk fed to the lambs, two months to age the cheese) we'll be seeing some beautiful new wheels. This is the start of only the third season (citation?) for Barinaga, and while her cheese has been amazing from the get-go, it's promising to assume that, like most cheeses, her business and product will only get better with age.

Feta for Dessert

Photo courtesy of Abigail Pfunder

Few of us think cheese when we think dessert. Mostly it's a filler in a sandwich, an accompaniment with wine or beer, or a stand alone pre-dinner course. For those who do savor cheese as a post-meal treat - say a luxurious, zingy blue smothered with sweet honey and dry almonds, or a beautiful wedge of Alpine cheese needing nothing more than a knife and good company, sometimes change can be of the essence. Admittedly an admirer of cheese all on its own, mixing it up (outside of your own standards) can bring you a whole new take on the dairy you eat.
I am personally not a huge feta fan. After years of eating the salty, brine soaked white block on salads (and little else) I thought this Mediterranean staple to be irrelevant to my cheese repertoire. But while working in a cheese shop in tourist-central, the long days of Winter - from January and February, even through (God help me) April - can be devastatingly dull. When cleaning projects run out and morale is low, it's time to interject some fun back into an otherwise dead shop. That's where Funday's come in! (tastings we put together to occupy, entertain and educate ourselves) Most recently I was asked to put together a tasting of the different ways Greeks eat feta. Besides the savory (olive oil drenched and served atop cured meats) the sweet alternative was a real stand out. I didn't do the research but the paper I was handed said "Feta with honey and almonds". So I took a beautiful chunk of Mt. Vikos Greek feta (goat and sheep blend) and topped (or rather soaked) it with Marshall's Mt. Tam honey and coarsely chopped, blanched and salted almonds from Alfieri Farms. Lucky for me, a coworker was tubing Medjool dates in the kitchen while I was fussing over the display. Dates just scream Mediterranean to me, so I grabbed a few and diced them over the concoction, and garnished with a few sprigs of oregano (not Greek unfortunately). The result was sublime.
Sweet, salty, and a myriad of textures, all I could think about while scattering from the office to the walk-in refrigerator (and forcing it down coworker's throats) was that I needed an excuse to have a dinner party soon and feature this dish sometime during the meal. Once I came down from my sugar high, I realized that you don't need an excuse to have a dinner party, especially if an exceptional cheese dish is being served. So to my future dinner guests who will be eating this delicious California take on a Greek classic: You're welcome. And more importantly, Opa! I think of feta as lowly no more.