FRENCH CHEESE MAKING CLASS

During a weekend in May this year I took a French cheese making class in western Massachusetts from Jim Wallace, the big cheese tech guy. There were 8 of us eager students in his basement learning the finer points of Reblochon, Brie, and Tomme de Savoie. They were all made with local jersery milk and Jim took us from the initial heating of the milk, tho not pasteurized, to the eventual pressing and placing in his cheese cave for aging. During our lunch times he brought out wheels from former classes for us to taste and discuss. Three of the students brought cheeses they had made which Jim opened, critiqued and we all then enjoyed, except one soft cheese that was too old and quite bitter. One was a cheddar that traveled clear from Nairobi, Kenya, another, a goat cheese came down from Canada. It was a fabulous two days, making, smelling, talking about and eating cheese. Jim is a regular tinkerer, in addition to making cheese he also makes wine with grapes he gets from Argentina, plus makes his own cheese and wine cultures, and interesting things of every sort hiding out in his basement laboratory.

OSSAU-IRATY

Something was pulling me towards my favorite cheese shop. Lately they haven't had the selection as in times past, but I thought I'd check it out, and nothing beats their chopped salad, so even if the cheese didn't pan out, at least I'd get a tasty lunch. Walking along the cheese counter like a general reviewing the troops, I had almost given up on finding anything when a huge wheel of Ossau-Iraty nodded back at me. This was not an artisan Ossau-Iraty, but from the producer, Istara. Rumor has it that this mountain raw sheep's milk cheese has been made for around 3800 years. Shepherding their indigenous red and black-faced Manech ewes up and down the mountains that rise from the Iraty and Bearn rivers, those ancient cheese makers knew this was the ideal terroir for a hearty semi-soft cheese. Though ancient, Ossau-Iraty only got it's A.O.C. label in the 1980s where it stands along with Roquefort, the only other French sheep's milk cheese to earn the designation. Back at the local cheese counter, I asked for a 4" wedge which I happily stuffed in my purse while imagining a lovely afternoon munching on bits of this buttery, nutty cheese with a delicious and long finish. It didn't need bread, crackers or anything, tho I found some blueberries in the fridge that went along perfectly.

PERFECTION FOR THE WEDDING BUFFET

For our wedding it took months to decide on the color scheme, the number of guests to invite and the perfect dress. However there was no hesitation about the cheese, It had to be a whole cheese sitting proud and beautiful on the buffet table as well as appealing to the tastes or our eclectic guests. Fol Epi, from the Pays de Loire region of France was the perfect choice. A Swiss-type cheese but with softer and less bitter overtones, Fol Epi has a smooth, semi-hard paste dotted with Swiss-type holes. The flavor is initially sweet and continues to a flowery and nut like finish. The beautiful part is that the approximately 14” diameter cheese is poured into a fluted mold that has wheat stalk images on the top so the cheese takes on the shape of the flutes and ears of wheat. These images are emphasized when the cheese is lightly dusted with wheat flour. The finished glorious Fol Epi is just the thing to attract attention on a wedding buffet table. My wonderful boss, Fred at the Artisan Cheese Gallery in Studio City showed up with the Fol Epi in plenty of time to let it come to room temperature before the guests arrived. Facts: French, unpasteurized cow’s milk, uncooked, pressed, semi-hard paste, aged 3 months.

THE SEASON FOR GRUYERE
Richly aged gruyere has been calling to me this winter. Though it’s not snowing in California we have had some unusually chilly weather and severe rain, causing mudslides down the fire damaged hills. When you add the thunder and rainbows you’ve got gruyere weather in my book.

I like to think of the summer milk, taken from cows grazing on flowers and grasses high in the Alps being stirred in huge copper cauldrons then formed into 60 pound wheels of cheese. Each process along the way can make or break a perfect Gruyere, especially the cave where the cheese sits, gets turned, bathed in brine and generally hovered over for 5 to 18 months. The longer the better in my book where you can taste the mature nutty, chestnut and violet paste. If this Swiss Gruyere is discovered to have fissures or holes during any part of its aging process it is disqualified.

So during the rainy, chilly southern California weather me and my Gruyere spent many a happy afternoon together, from sandwiches stacked with melted cheese and some added dill pickles to simply munching with crackers and whatever is in the fridge.

The Turning Point

After years of enjoying my pasta drenched in butter and Cheese Whiz, the fates took me by the hand to France for the entire month of May. Part of the time was spent with a French and American couple who I know here in California. Their stunning mid-century estate in Bois le Roy, Normandie was designed by the French architect Claude Parent after the style of Corbusier. The huge concrete roof sweeps at a steep angle from very high up, down to the rolling hills at the other end. A lovely setting for a life-changing experience.

One lazy Saturday we ventured out with rain gear in tow to the local Normandie farmer's market in Ezy sur Eure. Among the sausages, bread and produce we bought was a single, 3 1/2" round piece of soft cow's milk cheese. This double cream was no more than 3/4" high and was beginning to get a bloomy rind. I didn't think more about it until we got home and our delightful purchase was unwrapped and spreading knives passed out. My first impression was a delicate smell as the initial cut was made. The taste was like being transported to another planet, that one with no taxes, no weight gain and eternally Spring.

This cheese was made by a local farmer who brings her cheeses each week to the market and sells them out. Because they are sold on the spot, not even delivered into Paris only one hour away, they don't have to be pasteurized. The taste is unlike any American bought, soft bloomy rind cheese I had tasted up until then. Tho mild in flavor, I remember the taste of flowers and rain. The soft rolling hills of Normandie, along with the winds and rain bring their special messages to the terroir of this cheese.

I proceeded to be a very bad guest. During the afternoon I snuck back into the kitchen and devoured what was left of this beauty. Not only that, it appeared in my dreams for years, and even today all double creams that pass my lips are compared to this.