Goats are Great

If A. and I ever start a farm on the outskirts of Ottawa (as conceptualized while driving around Nova Scotia a few weeks ago), I told her that I want to have goats, in part because I would like to learn to make goat cheese. Over the course of this year, I have found it to be reliably good as you may have gathered by reading the many posts I've made about the stuff (particularly during my summer salad days).

The latest one to cross my plate comes from the good folks at Alexis de Portneuf: Paillot de chevre is a soft surface-ripened cheese whose name comes from the straw that's used traditionally in the transport of goat cheese.

I've tried two of this fromagerie's products in the summer—Do Re Mi, their halloumi, and Capriny, one of their chevres—but didn't write about them, though both were good. However, I am frequently seduced by Alexis de Portneuf's labels at the grocery store: have a peek at the website and see how lovely they are (and award-winning it turns out).

Anyway, I bought the mini-round of Paillot for $5.77 at Whole Foods after trying a most delicious cheese that was out of my price range. Even though the cheaper cheese was not the same, it still hit a couple of the same notes:

• Creamy
  
• Strong-flavoured
• Somewhat stinky
  

Much of the flavour of this cheese is in the rind (remember it's "surface-ripened") and that flavour totally recalls blue cheese (which is why B. didn't really like it when I gave him some to try) but slightly more sour (the website uses the word "acidulous"). In any case, it pairs nicely with rye crackers (followed maybe by a bit of jam or fruit paste) and the cheesemakers recommend eating it with Saumur red wine ("Saumur Champigny are among the best red wines in the Loire Valley").

I give thanks for cheese

While shopping for Thanksgiving dinner supplies at Atwater Market in Montreal, M. and I found free samples of cheeses and fell in love with "Époisses," a pungent unpasteurized cow's milk cheese. Even though it was $7.50 for what seemed like a tiny piece (half of a 10cm round), we couldn't not buy it - it had such lovely mouth feel and was by far the tastiest kind we tried.

I knew I'd heard the name Epoisses before and when I checked the cheese blog archives it turned out that D. had recommended it way back in January - "Epoisses, a stinky cheese par excellence," he e-mailed in response to my request for cheese suggestions.

Thanks to Wikipedia, I learned that:

• it's made (not surprisingly) in the village of Époisses, which is located between Dijon and Auxerre, in France.
  
• it's washed in Marc de Bourgogne, the local pomace brandy, which is why it has a distinctive soft red-orange colour
  
• it's best served with a good red Burgundy wine (or even Sauternes).

Also, Napoleon was a particular fan of the cheese, and the "famous epicure" Brillat-Savarin himself classed it as the "king of all cheeses."

(As an appetizer for our Thanksgiving meal, we also ate Camembert, caramelized onions, and sliced pears wrapped in puff pastry and baked - DELICIOUS.)


BONUS LINKS!

Read about a rockstar turned cheesemaker:
http://www.thestar.com/News/article/264784

Grilled cheese goes gourmet in Toronto:
http://www.tasteto.com/2007/10/07/grilled-cheese-goes-gourmet/#more-2044
(spoiler: Beemster Vlaskaas turns out to be the best)

Goodbye to summer

This really should be a blackberry and the background shouldn't be Parkdale but Metchosin but until I get the photos from my trip off my camera it will have to do...

I spent the last two weeks of August on Vancouver Island, a true "vacation" that climaxed with my brother's wedding on the first day of September (congrats to D & L!). Part of this trip, which will be detailed further this weekend, was devoted to discovering and enjoying local food and drink. This pursuit began nearly immediately when my dad insisted we stop to buy Silver Rill corn on the way home from the airport, then we stopped at a second farm market on Oldfield Road and I discovered that they grow figs in Victoria! And so kicked off an Island visit punctuated by delicious discoveries and tastings, including:

• mead (Sooke)
• blackberries (Galloping Goose Trail, Metchosin)
• corn (Saanich Peninsula)
• basil and yellow & green beans (backyard garden)
• apples (frontyard orchard)
• buffalo mozzarella (milk from Duncan, made in Courtenay)
• blueberries (between Duncan & Ladysmith)
• tomatillos (grown locally, bought at the Moss St. Market)
• golden beets (grown locally, Luxton Farmer's Market)
• garlic (Rocky Point Road, Metchosin)
• hard cow's milk cheese (Parksville)
• hard sheep's milk cheese (Cowichan Bay)
  

I also learned that you can invest in a cow at Little Qualicum Cheeseworks (Parksville), ate a very local-produce-friendly meal at The Superior (James Bay), and learned that my parents are planning an "100% Metchosin meal" (inspired by The 100-Mile Diet, whose authors they heard speak on Salt Spring Island). Needless to say, it was a wonderful visit.

Saint Morgon vs. Cheap Feta

Saint Morgon: $6.99/200g at Fiesta Farms

One of the reasons I went nuts and bought three kinds of cheese yesterday was that it was pay day and I suddenly had a bit of money in my bank account (hooray for direct deposit!). Before most of it was funneled towards my VISA bill, I felt like treating myself and spending a bit of hard-earned cash on cheese -- especially in light of my last cheese purchase: a 123-gram piece of sub-par feta bought at the ultra-budget No Frills near my house for $2.18 (which may have been the cheapest piece of cheese for sale in the entire store) because I couldn't bear the thought of not eating any cheese for a week.

So what's the difference between cheap cheese and not-so-cheap cheese? It's probably not fair to compare these two particular cheeses since the two types are vastly different but I've been thinking about the price of cheese ever since laying eyes on the super-tiny tubs of $12.95 Salt Spring Island Chevre at Whole Foods and then seeing the $9.95 Buffalo Mozzarella yesterday at Fiesta Farms. I'm all for paying more to get a higher quality product. If there's anything I've learned reading food books and Gourmet magazine all summer it's that it's all about the ingredients. Case in point: the basil pesto I made with high-end, Whole Foods-purchased parmesan reggiano while housesitting for C. was one of the best pestos I've ever made (I was so proud of it that I made T. and W. try spoonfuls of it fresh out of the food processor).

Anyway, the cheap feta I've been eating in salad all week was fine - it was crumbly and salty and went well with my sweet, garlicky homemade dressing - but it didn't blow my mind. Since starting this cheese project, there have only been two cheese that have done that (metaphorically, of course): one was the anonymous pecorino I had back in May and the other was a free sample of a soft cheese I tried at Whole Foods while purchasing the aforementioned expensive parmesan. Both had overwhelming flavour and you didn't need to eat much to get a sense of that. The cheese I popped in my mouth at Whole Foods (straight because it was the last bit on the tray and there were no more crackers) was like a meal in a mouthful. That's worth paying for.

Desiring a similar treat, I shelled out $6.99 for Saint Morgon at Fiesta Farms and bought an Ace Bakery demi-baguette to eat with it. Even wrapped up in plastic and wax paper, it smelled mildly stinky (like sweaty socks, actually) and the labelling on the bottom of the package assured me that it was "affiné" (ripened). I tried some smeared on the bread after I'd squeezed all the fruit in the fridge. What I noticed first of all was that it was salty. The flavour was mild at first, then started to get stronger but was never overwhelming in the way I wanted it to be. No aftertaste, though, which is a good thing, and though it's a full-fat soft cheese, it wasn't too creamy-tasting either.

But was it worth the cost? I mean, I will eat it and enjoy it (I had some more this morning) but I probably won't buy it again. When you're cheese-shopping on a budget, as I am, I think you want better R.O.I. (return on investment). Which has made me think that I need to sample expensive cheeses before purchasing them. If my "cheap feta" had turned out to be crappy, which it wasn't, it wouldn't have mattered because I spent so little on it but I can't help but feel a little ripped-of by the Saint Morgon...

Note #1: that's not a real ant in the feta picture, it's plastic

Note #2: Maybe the Saint Morgon just isn't meant for eating on bread. The Juniper Grill & Wine Bar in Orangeville uses it in a cooked appetizer: "Escargots, mushroom & Saint Morgon cheese perogy with sorrel sauce" (only $9 if you're willing to make the drive out of town and the rest of the menu looks good, too)

Cheeses I Have Eaten This Summer

Some highlights from the first half of the summer...

Fig & Feta Salad:

Probably with pecans and pears
Maple Cheddar:
231-kilometre cheese

Maple Cheddar (closeup):
you can see the crumbly texture

Gluten-free Cheese & Tomato-filled Crepes:
Made with organic quinoa flour

Gluten-Free Crepes (interior):
I think that's Black River X-tra Old Cheddar
Black River Extra Old Cheddar:
Very sharp, almost tangy flavour

Asparagus & Red Pepper Crustless Quiche (pre-cooked):
With goat cheese, naturellement

The Cheapest Goat's Milk Cheese at my No Frills:
My #3 Choice for Chevre

The Most Local Goat's Milk Cheese at my No Frills:
My #2 choice for Chevre

The Not-Local & Most-Expensive Goat's Milk Cheese at my No Frills:
My #1 choice for Chevre (it's the best tasting!)

Long-weekend Agritourism

Because it's a long weekend, four of us decided to borrow an Autoshare car and spend a whole Saturday driving around Prince Edward County (a two-hour drive from Toronto) visiting cute small towns and other stops along the area's "Taste Trail." It ended up being a lot of time in the car but we did visit two wineries, a cidery, and a cheese factory.

Black River Cheese in Milford was our last stop and though the cheese "factory" wasn't open for tours, they did have lots of free samples (the Garlic mozzarella and Salsa cheddar were two of the more interesting ones available for tasting). I was excited to discover the ice-cream cooler of "cheese ends" and dug through it to find some small pieces of (yet another) extra old cheddar (Cheese No. 19) and some mozzarella (Cheese No. 20) because I want to make pizza. B. was more adventurous with her cheese purchases: she bought a piece of the garlic mozzarella and also purchased a twenty-dollar gift basket just so she could snag one of the last pieces of maple cheddar available for sale, which my co-worker C. had raved about to me and which it turns out they only make in March (they told us that usually they don't have any left by this time of year).

The Black River looks like a nice place for swimming

The best salad

I've been eating the BEST salad for almost a week now. There have been multiple variations but the dressing has been the same and I think that's what makes it so good. That and the chevre (aka, Cheese No. 18). I created the dressing by loosely adapting a recipe in the Rebar cookbook that uses olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and honey (it's for a salad with nectarines). There may have been some other ingredients but I don't remember them now and (stupidly) I didn't write down the proportions I used.

I first used the dressing on a salad of mixed greens, pears, pecans and chevre that I served to N., B., and E. when they came over for dinner last Sunday night. Because it was so good, I made myself the same salad for lunch on Wednesday and Thursday. Today, I had no more chevre left so I was forced to used some of my second block of President's Choice Organic cheddar, which I had in the fridge. It wasn't the same, though. The chevre, labelled "Fromage de Chevre" from Choisy le Roi and purchased at my local ultra-budget No Frills, definitely added some deliciousness to the salad. Since there's still leftover dressing, I think I'm going to have to buy some more before I make this salad again...

<< Even though this cheddar is pretty good (and organic!), it's no substitute for chevre in my new favourite salad.

Cheese digest

As regular readers no doubt noticed, the cheeseblog took a break. But that doesn't mean I stopped eating cheese. Far from it. In fact, one of the best cheeses to date was something I sampled in the last month. To get us back up to speed, I'm providing briefer-than-usual cheese-tasting "blurbs," starting with my birthday purchase...

Cheese No. 16 - Frère Jacques

Killing time in Yorkville before catching a matinée of The Lives of Others on my birthday, I wandered into Pusateri's and picked out a nice piece of cheese on April 10th that ended up being quite tasty. I picked it sort of randomly: it looked good and the price was right. Turns out, it's another cheese with religious connections. This semi-soft cow's milk cheese is produced by Benedictine monks at the Saint-Benoit-du-lac Abbey in Quebec. According to the Abbey's website, "Saint Benedict said that to be a true monk, one must live by the work of one’s hands. Such work is meant to provide for the needs of the monastery and to maintain a happy balance of mind and body....The monks of Saint-Benoît-du-Lac assure their living above all by a cheese-factory, an orchard, a cider-factory, a farm and a store where their products are sold." These monks have been running a cheese factory since 1943!

Cheese No. 14 - 3-year-old Cheddar

I couldn't resist taking at least one photo of mouse and cheese - too goofy. Forgive me. According to my notes, I ate this mini-block on April 11th. The only other thing I wrote down was that it was "not as strong as the X-Old." Guess it wasn't that memorable.

Cheese No. 15 - Eweda Cru

I broke out the Eweda Cru on April 13th, this was the day I had to switch rooms, which was kind of traumatic in that I had to compress two rooms into one and give up my office. I thought eating some cheese might settle my stomach (but then I chased it with vitamins and coffee...) Anyway, I wrote down that the cheese was crumbly, slightly powdery, and not very "sheepy" at all. In fact, it reminded me of Asiago more than anything. It had a nice flavour: not so sharp, not that salty either - the website says "Comparable to: Young Pecorino Romano (but not as salty)" and a "traditional hard cheese."

I did find some time to poke around on the Ewenity Dairy Cooperative's website, mostly because I was curious about the raw milk thing. Essentially what this means is that the cheese is made from unpasteurised milk, which is okay because it's aged for just over 2 months. (Under Canadian law, any cheeses less than 60 days old must be pasteurised.) I also learned that sheep's milk contains more calcium, zinc and vitamins than other milks, which I suspect has to do with what the sheep eat. According to the website, the "main feedstuffs" of the co-op's sheep are "pasture (grasses, legumes, herbs and "weeds") and hay (dried pasture). At certain times of the year, the sheep are fed grain (barley, corn, oats or soybeans) as a supplement."

Cheese No. 12

I am eating out of order it seems. Having forgotten that I numbered my cheeses from the farmer's market, I went ahead and ate No. 13 (the X-tra old Cheddar) before No. 12. My apologies to anyone following my progress with a checklist for whom this misstep causes a problem. But on with the Manchego!

As I've already mentioned, this cheese was a recommendation.* All I knew before buying it was that it was a Spanish cheese. Turns out Manchego is from the La Mancha region of Spain (you know, like The Man from La Mancha, aka Don Quixote?). It's a sheep's milk cheese and one that's supposed to be aged for at least 3 months, according to its "Denominación de Origen" (yes, it's another one of those cheeses, not surprising since it's "Spain's most famous chese"), but J.G. suggested trying some that's been aged 1-2 years. I think the block I picked up at the market must have been of the "curado" variety (aged 3-6 months) because I really couldn't pick out any notes of either sheepiness or tanginess, nor did I find it to be "Delicious-slightly piquant and nutty". However, Manchego does have a nice texture and there's a cool-looking herringbone design pressed into the rind, visible in the photo at right (and which Wikipedia has just advised me is inedible, only after I ate all of it...).

Anyway, when I think of European cheeses, Spain isn't a country that typically comes to mind. Though, via the Cheese from Spain website, I've since learned that Spanish cheesemakers produce nearly 100 different kinds and each region has its own specialty:

In general cow's milk cheeses are found in the north, along the Cantabric coast, from Galicia to the Basque Country, and along the northern Cantabric Mountain Range and the Pyrenees. Sheep's milk cheeses are found inland, from the north, in Cantabria and the Basque Country, down to the flats of Castilla-León, Castilla La Mancha, Aragón and Extremadura. And finally goat's milk cheeses are found mostly along the regions of the Mediterranean coast, from Cataluña to Andalusia, as well as in Extremadura. [Click here for a map]

If you're curious and want to read more about "The Cheese of Don Quixote," click here.

*You, too, can recommend that I try something! I'm compiling a list and, eventually, I promise, I will get around to trying everything. Just leave a note in the comments section. (You can even remain anonymous if you like)

It's a Good Friday for Cheddar

Sometimes you're in a rush because your friend is supposed to be coming to visit and you're trying to finish off some schoolwork, which means you just want to eat whatever's easiest to extract from the fridge (somewhat overloaded at the moment after a pre-birthday $74.59 splurge at Fiesta Farms). And you don't want to heat anything up. So you start by piling a bunch of things onto a plate before realizing that a bowl would make more sense, particularly because some of the things you're pulling out are round and liable to roll off the plate. But despite this urgency to eat lunch, you will take the extra time to grab what's important: CHEESE, aka what remains of the small block of "X-tra Old."



When the cheese is unwrapped a few minutes after leaving the kitchen (after all the sweet-potato hummus has been scooped up with celery and you've eaten the greenhouse-grown mini Roma tomatoes), you'll find this particular aged Cheddar smells like good cheese. Your nose knows. And when you take a bite, its bold, salty flavour (with very slightly sheepy undertones) will take over your tastebuds with a singular Cheddar taste and remind you again of the deliciousness of this type of cheese. Yes, this nearly anonymous cheese you bought at the market on Saturday is very near to being perfect, helped by having good texture and the fact that it doesn't crumble the way some aged cheddars do. Which means that you can't help but want to tell people to go forth and eat good Cheddar this weekend. (Chase it with an apple if you can: the Washington State Galas are perfect right now.)

Nearly a cheese-free month (oops...)

First of all, apologies to those who keep checking back looking for updates only to find nothing new. I know it's been over a month but, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure what happened to March. I didn't eat a lot of cheese, that's for sure. In fact, all I can really remember consuming in the last month is:

• a decent block of President's Choice organic white cheddar, which reminded me how much I love cheddar
• molto mozzarella on a slice of veggie pizza from Pizza Gigi
• whatever cheese was in the veggie lasagna that B. made to share with everyone in celebration of her 30th birthday on Tuesday
• a good deal of chevre (I think) in the delicious purple cabbage(!) enchiladas (with tomatillo salsa!!) that T. made on Friday night
  
• (very slowly) half a wedge of Tre Stelle Asiago, which was best melted on top of a loaf of homemade foccaccia that I made using this recipe (photo of bread below, but not from the loaf with cheese—that one disappeared too quickly!)

Cheese No. 9

Number 9, number 9, number 9, number 9, number 9 Number 9, number 9, number 9, number 9, number 9 Number 9, number 9, number 9, number 9, number...

— The Beatles, "Revolution 9"

The combination of just missing the 7 o'clock ferry and having the weekend ahead of me, gave me the time and the incentive to shop for a new cheese last night. Despite the wide selection of varieties available at my local Loblaws, I decided to go with a cheese I've actually tried before*: Oka. Even though I feel like I should be trying to get into stinky cheeses at this point in the "project," my stomach's not so happy right now (there's some sort of flu-like thing going around where I'm living) so I decided to play it safe and go with something pretty mild. However, it's not cheating: if you check out my last post, you'll see that Oka's on my shopping list (a recommendation from S.).

Anyway, I sliced a piece off the not-so-cheap chunk of Oka Classic I bought last night to taste at lunch today. It was exactly what I was in the mood for cheese-wise: medium-firm, salty, not too creamy, and with a nice flavour. I'm a total chese novice so I don't care if it's wrong to make such a comparison but it reminded me of cheap brie that you've just taken out of the fridge: not too flavourful but salty enough and creamy enough to be delicious... before it gets all gooey and runny.

According to my research, Oka has a good story behind it. While the cheese is simply named after the village in Quebec where it's been made by monks since 1893, the recipe, however, comes from France. According to Wikipedia, following the seizure of their abbey by the Frech army and their expulsion from France, a group of eight monks emigrated to Canada in 1881 and set up a new order on a piece of land granted to them by the Grand Seminary of the Sulpician Order in Montreal, which had large land holdings. The exiled monks established l'Abbaye Cistercienne d'Oka and an affiliated agricultural school, and soon became well known for their Port-Salut-type cheese, made from a recipe they brought with them from Brittany.

You can visit the monastery and buy Oka directly from the monks at their store (which also sell chocolates made by nuns and cider made by another abbey), or you can purchase it from their online store. For just $58.25, plus $7.50 for shipping, you can get a 2.5-kilogram wheel delivered straight to your house, which will "amply serve 75 persons with generous portions." Sounds like a bargain to me.

* The first time I had Oka was on a hot summer day in Montreal during a day-long organized bike ride called Tour de l'Ile. There were two rest stops and one was sponsored by Quebec dairies so you could line up for free samples of chocolate milk and cheese, including packages of sliced Oka.

Cheeses No. 7 & No. 8

After describing a cheese plate he'd served to friends who'd come over for dinner, my co-worker B. surprised me the following day with samples of two of the more interesting varieties he'd included: Morbier and Sage Derby (pronounced "dar-bee").

I ended up eating them for lunch a few days later.

The first cheese I tried was the Sage Derby, mainly because it looked intimidating and I was scared it might taste like Blue cheese (which I find incredibly nasty). The cheese has a bright green waxy rind, that reminded me of the peel of a Granny Smith apple). It also features green marbling, which made me think of Blue cheese but this cheese wasn't as strong-smelling. In fact the flavour was totally different: herby (from the sage) with an almost minty aftertaste. With a texture similar to Gouda, it wasn't very salty, nor too creamy; "aromatic but not overwhelming" is how one online cheese broker describes it . It definitely looks bolder than it tastes!

Upon conducting a bit o' research (naturally), I learned this English cheese has its origins in the 17th century. The green colour comes from the addition of sage (an herb valued at the time for its supposed medicinal value), or from green corn "juice". Traditionally, Sage Derby was only made for special occasions like Christmas

I tried the Morbier (aka, "Cheese with a Dash of Ash") next. When B. had first given it to me and explained that the black line was "edible ash," I wanted to know how the ash was made. While Wikipedia didn't have the answer, the good folks at Hormel did:

The edible ash coatings are made by burning the wood of junipers, white pines, or grape vines, or the remains of vegetables such as bell peppers and eggplants to create a compound for the coating. The ash is then processed further by mashing or pounding it into a fine-textured powder that is dispersed over the area of cheese to be coated.

When I poked around a bit more, I learned the reason for the ash: traditionally, the cheese is made from the curds produced from two separate milkings, the morning milking and the afternoon/evening milking, and the line of ash separated the two. These days, the mass production of Morbier happens in factories that don't always adhere to that tradition so in those cases the ash is therefore purely decorative (though there are people who still make it the old way, which even the New York Times has written about).

When I finally got around to tasting the Morbier, I found it had a strong cheesy smell (un peu piquant peut-etre?) and was softer than the Derby (which had a texture/consistency similar to Gouda). It also had a more-overwhelming "umami": I thought it tasted more aged, saltier, and creamier than the Derby. I found the ash to be flavourless unless you can isolate it from the cheese (I was able to scrape some off with my fingernail) and then it's sort of peppery (like black pepper). The way it looked actually reminded me of photocopier toner (when it smears on a piece of white paper onto which you've just copied something).

BONUS: Think you know everything about Morbier (and can speak French), follow this link and try the "quizz"!

Cheese No. 6

On Sunday afternoon, I visited the cutest, tiniest cheese store. When C. suggested that we check out this new cheese shop that had opened around the corner from her on Roncesvalles, I hadn't imagined it would be so small. In fact, I am writing this post from an office that feels bigger than the store! But crammed into Thin Blue Line's small space were a myriad of tasty treats -- fresh breads, olive oils, tapenades, crackers, salts -- and, of course, a small but well chosen selection of cheeses, many of which seemed to be Quebec-sourced. I was tempted to buy some Applewood Smoked Cheddar because that's on my list of recommended cheeses to try but I was on a mission for some Parmigiano Reggiano. Fortunately, TBL had a wheel in stock and was willing to accommodate my request for under 100g. I had come across a recipe for a chickpea salad on a foodblog I've started reading that called for it, and after reading this website, I was sold on only using the best of the best.

The cheese I purchased at TBL

The salad didn't blow my mind but it made for a pretty yummy lunch yesterday and I think I will try mixing the cheesy chickpeas with some spinach today to give it some crunch. However, as is the case with each cheese I try, in reading about the traditional cheese-making process for Parmigiano-Reggiano in Italy, I learned a couple of fascinating things:

1. Quality control involves a hammer

[T]he sound produced by the whole cheese when it is hammered by a special hammer is extremely important for an expert of Parmigiano-Reggiano. A trained ear is able to give a judgement about the inner structure of the whole cheese and its consistence: if the sound is hard the content of Parmigiano-Reggiano is homogeneous and compact, while if the sound is deep-toned and booming it's very likely that there are some swellings, bladders or empty zones; in this case the "whole cheese" is inevitably depreciated or it can also be rejected.

2. It aides the digestion of other foods

Parmigiano-Reggiano stimulates the gastric production thus helping to digest other foods, too. That’s why it is useful and correct eating flakes of Parmigiano-Reggiano as hors-d’oeuvre or at the end of the meal. 100 grams of Parmigiano-Reggiano are assimilated in 45 minutes (contrary to, for instance, 4 hours needed for the same quantity of meat)

3. It's another "place of origin" cheese

Parmigiano-Reggiano is strictly bound to its place of origin. Both the production of milk and its transformation into cheese take place in the provinces of Parma, Reggio Emilia, Modena, Bologna to the west of the Reno River and Mantua to the east of the Po River. The secret of such goodness originates in the place of origin, in the natural feed, and in the high quality milk with no additives.

Some Parmiagiano Reggiano statistics:

• 20-24 average ageing of the wheels (in months)
• 38 average weight of a wheel (in kg)
• 16 litres of milk to make 1kg
• 600 litres of milk to make one wheel
• 3,136,191 number of wheels produced in 2005

BONUS READING: An interview with Gurth Pretty, the author of a book on Canada's artisanal cheeses

Cheese No. 5

Today's lunch: Goat feta, smoked tofu, Ryvita, Gala apple, bread

Without further delay, allow me to introduce the cheese I have been chipping away at for the last ten days:

Goat Feta (22% M.F.), Woolwich Dairy (Orangeville, ON), $need to check the fridge

Definitely one of the most flavourful cheeses I have tried this year, though I've been mostly eating it "straight" with crackers and bread since the vegetable ingredients needed for greek salad are terribly out of season. As far as fetas go, this one by Canada's leading goat's milk cheese producer (motto: "We've Got Your Goat") is not at all crumbly and has a real strong (tangy?) goat-y taste to it, not too salty either. Also, for strict vegetarians, you'll be happy to learn that it's rennet-free.

However, like Jarlsberg, the history of feta may be more interesting than its taste.

Courtesy of Wikipedia, I learned that feta is one of the oldest cheeses in the world and the traditional way to make this cheese is to use exclusively goat's milk or sheep's milk -- cow's milk feta is viewed as "non-authentic" by purists and Greeks (more on them below). The cheese is formed into blocks which are salted, and, traditionally, served sliced, which is where the cheese gets its name: "fetta" means "slice in Italian.

Of course, being a cheese with European origins, Feta has been embroiled in the whole "regional foodstuffs" debate. So in the same way that Champagne can only be use to describe sparkling wine from a particular region in France, Feta is a protected designation of origin cheese, meaning that, within the European Union, the name "feta" can only be used for the Greek stuff - not that similar stuff made by the Danes (aka, The Cheese Formerly Known as Feta Until We Lost a Lengthy Legal Battle). Apparently in Canada, we only respect PDO names when it comes to wine and spirits, which is why it's okay for the Woolwich Dairy to label their product as "feta."

When I started doing further research, I discovered there's a whole website devoted to the promotion of Greek feta, complete with A CHEESE VIDEOGAME called Feta Invaders. Very cool, even if it is just a marketing tool to get young people more interested in the cheese.

Bonus info: on the Woolwich Dairy website, I learned that the foods that pair nicely with goat cheese are: figs, pears, grapes, and apples, and Pinot Noir should be your wine choice.

PS - I'm actually not doing that bad if we're only 3 weeks into January and I'm already on my fifth cheese of the month.

Cheese No. 4

"Jarlsberg Smoke" (aka Smoked Jarlsberg), $11.79/lb - maker and provenance unknown

So I am not proving to be much of a cheese snob. Turns out the "mystery cheese" I picked out of the dollar bin a couple days ago is "one of Norway's greatest export successes in the world market" and "America's number 1 brand of Speciality cheese." It's not cheddar but in terms of exoticness, Jarlsberg seems to be a close cousin of Havarti and Feta. Oh well, I'd never tried it before and that's one of my big goals for this project: to taste different kinds and types of cheese.

But enough preamble, you're probably curious what I thought it tasted like. Well, being a smoked variety, it tasted, uh, smoky. Kind of like bacon, actually (though since I'm a vegetarian, I haven't eaten bacon in years...). It reminded me a bit of Gouda or Swiss (not surprisingly considering the cheese's history - more on that below). It wasn't overly creamy and the texture was a little bit rubbery. Also, what I thought was rind (and cut off last night when I sneaked some into my dinner) was actually just a layer of brown. I did some poking around on Jarlsberg.com and it turns out that the cheese "Acquires its characteristic taste by being dipped in a special smoky liquid. It gives the cheese a brown-coloured surface and a piquant, smoky taste." Okay, that's kind of gross. I'm curious if that's how other smoked varieties are made or if it's just a mass-production cheese-making technique.

The same website had lots of interesting info on the history of Jarlsberg. Here's an excerpt:

In 1830, the Swiss came to Norway’s Jarlsberg and Laurvig County (known as Vestfold County today) to teach the Norwegians to make cheese. These foreign master cheese makers were famous for making cheese with holes. There was active production in Norway until 1832. The cheese disappeared but the tale of its delicious taste was still in memory. In 1956, the academic community at the Agricultural University of Norway at Ås undertook the task of reviving the cheese recipe from 1830. Professor Ole Martin Ystgaard and his team developed during his research a semi-hard, medium-fat cheese with holes, successfully combining the cheese-making traditions with modern technologies. The new cheese was named Jarlsberg after the county, where the earlier version had been made at the beginning of the 19th century. A new cheese category was established.

So, to summarize today's history lesson: Jarlsberg is Swiss cheese made by Norwegians trying to approximate the taste of Swiss cheese from memory.

Please send me cheese recommendations otherwise I may just be tempted to write about the Tre Stella mozzarella cheese ball I bought for pizza... (fortunately, I did have the forethought to pick up something a little more unusual as well).

Class dismissed!

Cheese No. 3

I am currently living on an island with no grocery store so my cheese-buying has been restricted of late. However, yesterday I had to go "cityside" so I was able to pick up something new to try:

Low-fat Cheddar (7% B.F.) with Onion, Riverside Cheese & Butter Co. (Trenton, ON), $10.99/lb

Yes, it seems wrong to be highlighting a cheese that's the antithesis of cheese but it was actually pretty good, though incredibly crumbly when sliced. I ate most of it in sandwiches with organic pea sprouts and the onion flavouring made them interesting. Also, it wasn't bland like other low-fat cheeses I've tried, though it did suffer from the same problem all low-fat cheeses do: it dried out fairly quickly.

I had wanted to try something more adventurous but I was pressed for time and when faced with a large selection of cheeses behind glass, a store I dislike, and an overly attentive salesgirl, I choked. Fortunately, while she was slicing my selection, I discovered the dollar basket and I picked up something far fattier with a proper rind that I will try tomorrow. (Unfortunately, I can't remember the name and it's in a faraway fridge so you will just have to wait until then.)

I've also been asked to pick up some pumpernickel for S. & F. so I may try to hit the St. Lawrence Market on my way to the ferry after work. That could be dangerous...

Cheese No. 2

Not having had the chance to eat any of the Island Bries in Victoria, I carried this cheese with me to Vancouver and used it in a delicious salad. I wanted to make K. dinner as a thank-you for letting me stay with her the night before my flight back to Toronto and I remembered a salad recipe in the Rebar Cookbook that included both Brie and pears. Fortunately, K. had this cookbook and I tinkered with the recipe for the "Mesclun and Fresh Pear Salad, with Brie, hazelnuts and blackberry-thyme vinaigrette." My salad was regular red lettuce, pear slices, yellow pepper slivers, almonds, and, of course, Brie, the lettuce pre-tossed with the following vinaigrette (a variation on the Rebar recipe, halved):

1/2 cup thawed frozen strawberries, blenderized
2 tbsp raspberry vinegar
2 tbsp orange-grapefruit juice
2 tsp honey
2 tsp raw sugar
1 tsp dried thyme*
4 tbsp vegetable oil
salt and pepper to taste (i.e. lots)

* would be better with 1/2 tbsp fresh

The dressing turned out really well but the cheese was the highlight of the salad: it was sufficiently salty and creamy but not too mushy, and leaving the "rind" on didn't affect the flavour at all. When we'd had enough of the greens, K. and I started picking pieces of cheese and pear out of the bowl and eating them with bits of the foccacia that accompanied our meal.

As you can see in the photo at right, Island Bries is packaged in an interesting way: it comes with a wooden coaster stamped with the name of the cheesemaker. When I was looking for info on this cheese on the Little Qualicum Cheeseworks website, there was a note about the coaster included in the cheese description: "Our best seller. Its creamy texture, velvety white rind with mushroomy overtones goes beautifully with a crisp Chardonnay. The little wooden board rescued from the burn pile of a guitar body manufacturer can live again as a coaster."

Other cheese tasting: I also ate some delicious vegetarian lasagna that B. made to celebrate my return to Toronto and going back on cheese -- her recipe used cottage cheese and mozarella (I think). She also served some tomato and bocconcini salad, which is one of the things I'd missed most about not eating cheese after discovering how fabulous the simple combo of fresh, in-season tomatoes, basil, and good-quality mozzarella can be when S. took me to Feenie's in Vancouver.

Cheese No.1

I had grand plans to ring in the new year with a party where everyone would be instructed to bring a bottle of wine and a sizeable chunk of their favourite cheese, which would be sliced up and devoured at midnight. A cheese "orgy" seemed like the proper way to end a year of not eating any cheese. When I realized that everyone I would want at such an event was going to be geographically unavailable, I scaled back my plans. A simple cheese plate to be consumed wherever and shared with whomever was around once the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve would suffice. Besides, too much cheese all at once might upset my stomach, I reasoned.

In the end, I broke my cheese fast alone, just after midnight in my parents' Metchosin kitchen, when I sliced off a couple crumbly centimetres of the aforementioned La Scala. I felt like I should make a ceremony of it, my first taste of cheese in 365 days, but I was already wearing my pajamas and Morrissey was singing about having "No regrets" on the radio.

The first taste was somewhat underwhelming: it was a familiar flavour but one I hadn't tasted in such a long time. My tastebuds seemed dulled from either my lingering cold or too much cinnamon gum but I was able to recognize that the cheese had a strong taste, sort of like an extra-aged, sharp cheddar but more sheepy.

Just now, I had a look at the cheesemaker's website to see if I could find out any more about La Scala. Here is the description I found: "A superb blend of Irish Derby and Italian asiago, giving a bold, fruity, rich-tasting cheese with a sharp bite and buttery aroma. Medium aged for outstanding taste. Versatile and delicious in cooked foods, as a snack and on cheese plates. Great with red wine or beer." Turns out the cheese also won 1st place in the 2005 British Empire Cheese Show.

For lunch, I tried a bit more, this time with Finn Crisp crackers and Gala apple slices -- alternating tasting the cheese with bites of hummous. The La Scala definitely tasted better eaten with other foods but I still didn't feel an insatiable desire to eat more than the few slices I had on my plate. But then again, I'm not craving cheese. Not even foods made with cheese that I haven't had all year - like pizza or quesadillas. Maybe that will come with time?

As for the Brie, I may try some tonight or I may save it for tomorrow. I don't want to go overboard all at once...

The First Cheese(s)

I couldn't pick just one so I choose two. Since I'm celebrating New Year's Eve on Vancouver Island, it seemed appropriate to select Island cheeses:

1. Island Bries from Little Qualicum Cheeseworks (Parksville, BC), $3.19/100g
2. La Scala from Natural Pastures Cheese Company (Courtenay, BC), $4.29/100g

At 12:01am, the tasting begins!