Purchased from Rainbow Grocery, San Francisco
Type: Blue
Teat: Sheep's milk
Trappings: Honey, walnuts, dried apricots, quince paste (just for fun-sies)*
Taste: Because Bleu de Basques didn't specifically show up in any of my cheese books, I consulted the canonical and oft-used cheese research text known as Google, which indicated I should expect a rather mild cheese, as blues go: not too salty, not too strong, excellent crumbled over salads. So I was a little startled by my first impression upon unwrapping this sucker and stealing a fingertip full:
"Hot damn! That is some blue-ass cheese!"
After coming to terms with the notion that the Internet might have been wrong, I decided to let the Bleu de Basques hit room temp before I hit it again.
1 hour and a number of degrees farenheit later: This is still some pretty strong shit, in my opinion, and I am famously fond of really stinky, strong cheeses. I found the Bleu de Basques to be tangy and salty almost on the order of a feta--the finish veered into sour territory, although not in an unpleasant way.
I actually think my initial proclamation of this cheese's blue-ass-ity was a little off the mark. What I generally love about blue cheeses is actually the interplay of creamy smoothness with the almost fruity flavor that the veins impart. The Bleu de Basques was a little chalkier and more tangy than that.
No surprise that this cheese paired really well with the walnuts and honey, and pretty well with the dried apricot, too. As expected, I'd skip the quince paste. What I was actually really hankering for was a dessert wine or a glass of port, although given the saltiness, I also think slices of apple would have been delicious.
* I know the two most conspicuous absences here are alcohol and bread, which I have to chalk up to poor preparation--namely, my being unprepared for Mr. Man (as my family and friends affectionately call him) to drink all of the wine and eat all of the bread in our house yesterday. Live and learn.
