Nerd Alert!*

*I've often wondered what cheese best personifies me...

After some thought and occasional discussion with coworkers (Note: NOT the best dinner party topic with friends not in the cheese biz), I happily settled on Morbier. Kinda nutty, kinda funky, but appealing to many - we're two pea's in a pod.

Morbier hails from France's Franche-Comte region. It is an unpasteurized cow's milk cheese, uncooked and pressed, with a washed and brushed rind. Translation: It's stanky.
Besides its offensive odor, Morbier's distinguishing features are a sticky, orangish-redish rind that once cut reveals a thin dark line of vegetable ash running horizontally through the center. Often mistaken as a blue cheese, the ash at one time served a purpose. Back in the day (To my generation: No I'm not talking about the early 90's) the hardy French folks of the Alps that made Comte, the large format Gruyere-style cheese that is the most consumed cheese in France, were often left with curd at the end of the day that wasn't enough to make the mammoth 70lb. wheel. Not wanting to be wasteful, they pressed the left over curd into a smaller form, covered their hands with ash from the outside of their copper kettles, and patted the young cheese to protect it during the night. Come the next day they would add another layer of curd on top. Et voila!, Morbier.

While it's been quite warm in the Bay Area, it is Autumn now, so I thought I'd celebrate my favorite season with a cold weather, toastie treat. Inspired by raclette, the drool-worthy cheese melting contraption of Switzerland, I decided to take my cheese twin to a level I hadn't before.
The Menu: Grilled bread with melted Morbier, served with pickled vegetable medley from Happy Girl Kitchen. Plus wilted spinach sauteed with leeks, so I wouldn't feel so bad about myself.
The Guests: Myself plus two crazy cheese ladies and one crazy cheese gent, some of us newly living under one (very small) roof together. Here's to new roommate excitement! Let's remember this when we can't stand the sight of each other... 

Morbier's fatty, semi-firm, and slightly elastic texture make it a great melter. Its pronounced nutty, vegetal, and slightly bitter flavors become more subtle once melted, so this is a great way to introduce stinky cheese into your diet without knocking you backwards in your chair. As for the veggies, the acid cuts the fat and salt of the cheese, and adds a crisp crunch to the dominating melty, gooey texture. Plus who doesn't love pickles? I considered eating this while squatting in front of a high-powered fan with a scarf wrapped around my neck, but decided that might be overkill. While it still feels like bathing suit weather outside, melted cheese is delicious, and necessary, all times of the year.

 and Dessert!

Snow Canyon

Has anyone seen this cheese??
For about two years the answer was without a doubt No. Sometime after its early 2009 make date, Snow Canyon disappeared into the depths of Rockhill Creamery's aging room. If it was MIA, went AWOL, or was taken as a POW, we may never know. But it did resurface recently, and was taken on the trip of a lifetime.
Fast forward to late August 2011. If you were in San Francisco during this time, chances are you did see Snow Canyon.
Because it was literally everywhere.
Not so sure you had a sighting? If you recall a white-blonde pixie cut with a mischievous grin attached to it bobbing nearby, sighting confirmed. And if you saw it and tasted it, consider yourself a lucky one.

 Snow Canyon, on its home turf in Utah.

And in SF...

Rockhill Creamery of Richmond, Utah (way up north) is a "micro-dairy" with only six cows, and an impressive eight or nine cheese types. Snow Canyon is the more aged Edam style, big sister to four month and younger Dark Canyon, and doesn't usually stay uncut longer than six months. While the "Brown Swiss-Six", Ingrid, Iggy, Heide, Gabby, Elsie and Eve, produce milk that makes a mean cheese at any age (try the young  Belvedere Tomme with apricot preserves), the 900 day old Snow Canyon we tried rivaled a two year old Dutch Gouda.

Just split...

Success!

 

Caramely, nutty, salty and a little sweet, with evenly distributed crystals and a toothsome waxiness that quickly melts in your mouth - it was like enjoying a bag of warm sweet 'n savory nuts at a Sunday ballgame. For those who enjoy spending their weekend otherwise engaged (or who wouldn't waste the stomach space on anything other than beer), it was everything one could hope for in an aged Gouda-style cheese. I hope the success of this lost-then-found wheel might bring about others in the future, maybe this time intentionally.

Photos (and humor) courtesy of Abby Phunder,

the blonde fox who transported the cheese, cut the cheese, and fed us the cheese.

Geotrichum Love

The plate appropriately says Ooo!

Wrinkly, goaty, creamy, and slightly stinky. This is the kind of cheese I want to make, and think there isn't enough of being produced in this country. So thank you Alison Hooper of Vermont Butter & Cheese for making geotrichum beauties like Coupole (pictured), Bonne Bouche, Bijou and Cremont. Yum!

Early Girl meets Cheese

What does an obsessed queso-phile who works in the business of cheese do on their day off? They visit the company they work for's other cheese shop.

The day didn't start out with any plans to visit Cowgirl Creamery's Pt. Reyes Station cheese counter, but it all took a sudden turn while watering the garden that morning. I was drenching the tomatoes when I saw a plump, red globe hanging heavily from its vine. I cupped the ripe fruit and it effortlessly came off in my hand. Instantly my head flooded with visions of white - creamy, rich, milky, stretchy white. Burrata. The Italian gem (dumbfoundingly good, cream infused fresh mozzarella) is now being made stateside, and is great in any application mozzarella is (only much better, says I). While I was excited by my first of the season, fresh from the garden discovery, I was more excited by the cheese I would put with it.

Yes, I drove, on a whim, all the way to Pt. Reyes Station just for cheese.

 Looking across gorgeous Tomales Bay towards Inverness.

Don't mind the shoty photos - had to use a disposable because I left my camera at home. Thanks Fuji.

One of my favorite houses in Pt. Reyes.

Speeding the winding roads of West Marin in my pick-up, windows rolled down, hair still wet, and a Blue's mix on the stereo, I was on a food mission. When I first pulled into the quaint town that looks like the set of a Western film that hippies overtook, I headed straight to Toby's Feed Barn (where produce meets coffee meets yoga meets art studio meets animal feed) to down a double espresso. Fully caffeinated and the heady scent of horse manure filling my nose, I skipped the two blocks to Tomales Bay Foods, the renovated barn that houses Cowgirl's first cheese counter and cantina, and the original creamery (where Red Hawk is born daily).

Tomales Bay Foods

Again, WORST camera ever.

Red Hawk

After chatting the ears off a few employees, I realized I had become sidetracked. I looked around wildly but there was no burrata to be seen. "We're out", one of the mongers informed me. I suddenly sympathized with the disappointment and mild frustration I see in customers when we don't have what they're looking for. So I parted with a ball of fresh mozzarella from Belfiore Cheese Co., and to make up for the fact that I didn't get what I originally wanted, snagged a roast chicken from the cantina.

Back at home I sliced my one precious tomato, plucked some basil from the garden and moved the bird to a plate, then scooted outside to enjoy my mid-July picnic. The salad was simple and fresh, and the Cowgirl cantina makes some of the best eff-ing chicken I've ever had.

 Really, it looked yummier in person...

 

Back at home. Location for my picnic, Top Hat Cafe, i.e. my parents porch.

Even as the bees descended on me I smiled with pleasure at my meal, and had all but forgotten the burrata that started my adventure (or was it the tomato?..) Cheese will take you some interesting places.

Happiness, For Dinner

Bring Your Appetite, Bring Your Spoon

CONUNDRUM update!

 It's gooey, it's runny, it's delectable. It finally has a name. The "A.K.A" cheese I spoke of in my last post has officially hit the shelves at Cowgirl Creamery. Harbison, named after a spunky old lass the Kehler's grew up with, and who now runs the local Inn in Greensboro, is a dream come true.

Need I say more?

Oh wait...

You're welcome.

CONUNDRUM!

The hard working gents at Jasper Hill Farms have done it again... Introducing the newest addition to their cheese lineup, Conundrum! Aka soon to be named something else (this is the name for all their experimental cheeses), aka Mini-Winni-Mo, because it is a smaller hybrid of their bloomy rind Moses Sleeper, and their cult-status Winnimere. The marriage is a happy one.

Conundrum most resembles Winnimere. It has the spruce bark wrap and its top rind is meant to be trimmed back, revealing the unctuous, creamy paste (and then meant to be face planted into). But it is not a washed rind, so it lacks the orange-red brick color of Winni. Instead it is bloomy - all creamy white and fluffy like Moses.

The flavor meets somewhere in the middle too. Think Winnimere for wimps (wimps with great taste). The rich bacon, wood and smoke flavors are muted, but present, and the runny, gooey consistency is the same. It walks a touch on the side of salty, which works well with the meaty flavors. Overall, A+! Cheesemongers everywhere will either be cramming this down customers throats with enthusiasm, or hoarding it all to themselves. My guess is the latter. So keep a keen eye out in your local cheese shop for Conundrum, hopefully appearing in stores soon.

I think I smell another cult classic from Jasper.