tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82413401175082768152024-03-19T02:45:31.089-07:00Fromage SavageDiary of my near-daily dose of dairyKristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-10829772337162556022011-03-17T13:32:00.001-07:002011-03-17T13:51:00.573-07:00Today's Fromage Savage: Queso de Wilson<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3_w7cx27xV7qeWQNiLNDwf0qm3fV020mofslkeCDPexVOVnAPhUhWGgG5fEZHt9Vo8bN4FBDQB6USnGvOusHivx3YIDeUz1LyyYuh_bK7bX9_tNnLDrr6XGqmajQEbiK5ClrkyijFViJ/s1600/queso.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3_w7cx27xV7qeWQNiLNDwf0qm3fV020mofslkeCDPexVOVnAPhUhWGgG5fEZHt9Vo8bN4FBDQB6USnGvOusHivx3YIDeUz1LyyYuh_bK7bX9_tNnLDrr6XGqmajQEbiK5ClrkyijFViJ/s320/queso.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585153318458701570" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Purchased from:</span> Consumed in the kitchen of my dear pals in Austin, the Wilsons<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type:</span> Melted<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat:</span> This would imply it's made of actual cheese<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings:</span> Salsa, chips, carne asada, tequila<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste:</span> Like if you don't stay outta my way when I wanna eat it, you're gonna be sorry<br /><br /><br /><br />I fell in love with Austin on my first visit some 6 or so years ago. Any city that plies me with that much good tequila and great BBQ was gonna end up on the short list of my favorite spots. I've had the good fortune to make it back there more and more often over the past few years, and the even better fortune to make some great friends who get to live there and eat that food all the time. How they all remain so remarkably fit is beyond me...unless it's the magic that is undeniably in the queso. And I've yet to have queso more magical than that my friend Mike concocted in his own kitchen.<br /><br />Since unless you've spent time in the South it's entirely possible you don't actually know what this stuff is, a few details: it's a Tex-Mex phenomenon, it's served all the heck over Texas, and it's generally a combination of chili peppers of some sort, cream of some sort, and cheese of some sort, although what I actually mean by cheese is Velveeta. Before you make the barfy face, you need to know that if this is the reason Velveeta was created, then god bless Mr. and Mrs. Velveeta, because queso is fricking delicious. And this particular queso was so delicious that what I didn't actually get a photo of was a group of seven of us huddled over the counter on which this bowl was resting, elbowing one another out of the way to scoop the melty/salty/spicy yum into our faces. At one point we'd all dripped some down the front of our shirts...and actually licked off our own shirt fronts, partly because we didn't want to waste any and partly because no one wanted to lose their spot around the bowl.<br /><br />In the case of queso, using a "regular" cheese doesn't really work. Actually, what it gets you instead is sort of a queso fundido, which is much thicker and more pizza-cheese-like in consistency. Not like I'd ever turn down a bowl of that either, but smooth chili con queso is so easy to eat and so tasty, it's actually my preferred method of arterial clogging.<br /><br />I haven't tried to make my own queso here in San Francisco. I'm worried it just won't be the same. I think it's possible you need to have that x-factor Austin sparkly happy air crackle goin' on to really make it taste right. Which might be better in the long run, if I'm ever going to fit into my jeans again.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-37955456465130906792011-02-24T14:35:00.000-08:002011-02-24T15:49:19.502-08:00That's HotLike Lady Gaga emerging from her Grammys Crazy Egg, I am poised to make my reappearance here. I know that once you've let your blog devolve into Internet detritus, it's tough to make a return. I also know that I'm not eating nearly enough good cheese, and this is as good a reason as any to start snarfing up the good stuff again.<br /><br />It's not that I haven't eaten ANY cheese, though. I've had probably more than my fair share of some good stuff. So, in lieu of having an actual Fromage Savage post, here's some cheese porn to tide you over. Totally SFW, unless you're stranger than I think you are.<br /><br /><br />The cheese tasting at Kendall Jackson winery in Sonoma. Oenophiles, stop holding your noses: paired with these delish cheeses, KJ fronted some pretty great vino. Also, my sister is a chef there, so be nice.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14842573@N06/5346027629/" title="IMG_1216 by kasalvatore, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5283/5346027629_02e6965557.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="IMG_1216" /></a><br /><br /><br />Andante Dairy cheeses, the only place I've ever seen them available in a retail setting: at <a href="http://www.cheesestoresl.com/">The Cheese Store in Silver Lake</a>. Cheesemaker Soyoung Scanlan is basically my hero; her cheeses are among my all-time faves. If you ever see them available and you don't eat them immediately, you are a crazy person.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14842573@N06/5346027093/" title="IMG_1200 by kasalvatore, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5162/5346027093_30a2337e3f.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="IMG_1200" /></a><br /><br /><br />Cowgirl Creamery Red Hawk: storage in the fridge all but requires putting it into a sealed Tupperware that goes inside a sealed Ziplock that should probably then be placed inside a lead-lined safe of some sort, unless you want everything else in the box to smell like this cheese, but oh my word, is it tasty.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14842573@N06/5127142978/" title="IMG_0552 by kasalvatore, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1380/5127142978_40a11e0d60.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_0552" /></a><br /><br /><br />Cheese and pate plate shared at <a href="http://www.hotelbiron.com/">Hotel Biron</a> in San Francisco. Its deliciousness helped me ignore the person in the background who was wearing white shoes after Labor Day, and that is no mean feat. The bottle of Serra Barbera D'Alba helped, too.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14842573@N06/5127158562/" title="IMG_0718 by kasalvatore, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1183/5127158562_d6ea3a1c98.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_0718" /></a><br /><br /><br />My idea of a little afternoon snack: at the bottom is a grass-fed blue--essentially a roquefort. I am a big fan of stinky and salty blue cheeses, and this fit the bill. In the middle is a Sevre et Belle goat cheese, and up top is the super-crazy-delicious Ticklemore goat, aka best name ever. I am coming to realize that in general, goat cheeses are my favorite--I like the fresh ones that you've had if you've ever had a beet salad in a restaurant, but I am growing quite partial to those that are a little more aged, so they've got that slight funk/twang to them, but are still creamy without being sticky like a triple cream. <br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14842573@N06/5127145256/" title="IMG_0581 by kasalvatore, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1153/5127145256_79f951458e.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_0581" /></a><br /><br /><br />Toward the end of last year, I had a grin-inducing experience: a friend called to ask me for suggestions on cheeses to bring to a family dinner. I figured that means I've now firmly established myself as...well, as a person who eats a lot of cheese, I guess. The mantle has been bestowed, and dammit, who am I to demur?Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-76491481326655662862010-05-05T17:34:00.000-07:002010-05-05T17:38:23.985-07:00Today's Fromage Savage: ?<span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from <a href="http://serpentinesf.com/">? </a>, San Francisco</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Semi-soft<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: ?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Newcastle Brown Ale<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: Like victory<br /><br />I’ve kind of had some shit going down lately. I know everyone has shit going down, if not lately than sometimes, because it’s kind of the nature of things. But I think I can safely classify this as out-of-the-ordinary, above-and-beyond shit, which unfortunately sounds a lot like an Activia commercial. Except that as I understand it, Activia is all about ensuring that whatever shit you have going on is, in fact, entirely ordinary.<br /><br />None of which has anything to do with the fact that I’ve been battling a back/hip injury. The rest of my shit is just fine, thank you. But I’m not walking well, or sleeping well, or standing well, or sitting well, which is totally, totally fucking my shit up.<br /><br />It’s hard to care about cheese when your shit is fucked up like that. Cheese is all about sensory celebration and reaching for the right adjective to describe it, and sharing something really tasty with people who also appreciate it, and figuring out what great stuff will make it taste even better, and bloomy rinds and milk fat. It is so not about ice packs and Vicodin. That’s a different blog.<br /><br />Today hasn’t been much different than a lot of other days I’ve had lately. I swung my left leg around my office hallways with the swashbuckle-y limp I’ve developed, fidgeted through a presentation (that I was giving—co-workers, I hope you were in less pain than I, sorry for all the slides in that PPT), and then stuffed in some earplugs before being shunted into a tube. I regret that this was not, as one co-worker asked, because I was being shot out of a cannon, because I am pretty sure that’s more fun than an MRI. I’m pretty sure that’s more fun than most things, actually.<br /><br />I digress. As usual.<br /><br />Post-MRI and physical therapy (thanks, <a href="http://www.potreropt.com">Potrero PT</a>!), I made my way home. It takes me about 5 minutes to climb the flight of stairs to my front door these days, because I don’t have one of those chairs like the mean old lady in Gremlins.<br /><br />As you can plainly tell, I’ve been a bit embittered by this whole thing. But today…I dunno. Today I felt…I felt kinda all right. So, I did what anyone would do: I called my parents, I pet my dogs, and I made a cheese plate.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vaz-rpJIDDytK__hgyrB_wSeuoaM41jAurnLFYmYQn_3bxwidXJcuMHtRWWLf6J9nVrKBZbfacHd-Dpl7jC4ZOgdeRAY-VTWzCuM0xKnGj9R_bDgoK_RiKE84FktgY4hE2pw4LY9RiP4/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vaz-rpJIDDytK__hgyrB_wSeuoaM41jAurnLFYmYQn_3bxwidXJcuMHtRWWLf6J9nVrKBZbfacHd-Dpl7jC4ZOgdeRAY-VTWzCuM0xKnGj9R_bDgoK_RiKE84FktgY4hE2pw4LY9RiP4/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467949504724012530" /></a><br /><br />So, I don’t know what these cheeses are. They were in my fridge, and they were clearly put there recently, so I decided to eat them. I’m going to guess that the one on the right is a sheep’s milk cheese, because of its buttery color and slightly grassy taste. The one on the left is, I’d guess, a cow’s milk cheese—slightly creamier than the other one, less toothy when I bit into it, and definitely milder in flavor.<br /><br />I know that does not a thing to help anyone—including me—decide whether or not to buy and eat these cheeses. All I can tell you is that they tasted good and they made me happy. <br /><br />Which to me is further proof that, as I have always suspected, cheese is the shit—and I mean that in a completely not-fucked-up way.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-8757535916008052302010-02-16T09:57:00.000-08:002010-02-16T09:58:32.133-08:00Drunken Goat CheeseI am getting ready to leave town (for work, I'm not on the lam or anything), so I'm too swamped to actually write a full post, but I needed to at least drop some knowledge about the Drunken Goat Cheese I tasted a hunk of last night, because it is DELICIOUS. More on this later.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-76157477647871360262010-01-28T11:22:00.000-08:002010-01-28T12:18:15.053-08:00Today's Fromage Savage: Bellwether Farms' San Andreas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvNgzRDcqn-F6wo_BDBSlDxG1GRRCLSKFTXROFgZQWzvze-kJBJZivNrzWUu587SoASrtZSECGEaflAeJ7kjiyv7WimNeXjIBfJtfq-S0zznSJS-jsFsTpXFMsZWU2X9uHhU7hR-wYH_4/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvNgzRDcqn-F6wo_BDBSlDxG1GRRCLSKFTXROFgZQWzvze-kJBJZivNrzWUu587SoASrtZSECGEaflAeJ7kjiyv7WimNeXjIBfJtfq-S0zznSJS-jsFsTpXFMsZWU2X9uHhU7hR-wYH_4/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431882548946676978" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from <a href="http://serpentinesf.com/">Serpentine </a>restaurant, San Francisco</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Firm<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Sheep's milk (raw)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Crusty bread slices, Sicilian almonds, pear slices, some sort of apricot-y/peachy compote-like stuff<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: Hrmph.<br /><br />It's a good thing this came accompanied by Sicilian almonds, because they're pretty tasty.<br /><br />In fairness, I don't think the problems here--mealy texture, taste approximating what I imagine a mouthful of soft chalk to be like--can be attributed to Bellwether Farms. I actually think something went awry in Serpentine's kitchen, which bums me out on a whole different level, because the restaurant is usually amazing and was more than up to par last night, until what I may henceforth remember as The Great Cheese Disaster of 2010. This cheese smelled and tasted like the wedge had been cut hours--possibly days--earlier, and then stuck somewhere to dry out and pick up the various and sundry smells and tastes of a commercial kitchen. It was like eating from the box of baking soda in the back of my fridge.<br /><br />I'm told that the San Andreas is <span style="font-style:italic;">supposed></span> to be creamy and smooth with a tangy finish, all of which sounds delectable to me. I probably should have known something was wrong with this particular portion when I inspected it up close and saw that it looked almost crumbly, like a cheddar.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsXrnBXH1HEtU3ebL0vn2Grf_M3yZPdrdsmubONVKaJTz0vHBYhUogVIwviFZBaHqcSl1oYAXclBKBKrJy1XoX7WFgA3Rpe1LrbEBiflNHoOLB3BX1w7GfTa90jDViMVIlUqjba-stJIa/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsXrnBXH1HEtU3ebL0vn2Grf_M3yZPdrdsmubONVKaJTz0vHBYhUogVIwviFZBaHqcSl1oYAXclBKBKrJy1XoX7WFgA3Rpe1LrbEBiflNHoOLB3BX1w7GfTa90jDViMVIlUqjba-stJIa/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431882053562680082" /></a><br /><br />This has been a blow to us here at Fromage Savage--it's ruined our practically perfect record of tasting really good cheeses. And while I'm not quite ready to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAft_dMWxBg">burn this motherfucker down, Pookie</a>, I <span style="font-style:italic;">was </span>still feeling rather crotchety about the whole debacle this morning when I checked my mailbox at work and found...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkigNzyDhT-kdcr6yyjx4jL7wDtBgLAxrjlCnYMyZwDln29uUIAMW010eqaKVCFeF2KTRf2gUSx_RMBmT3NfJArlAO0pP5vUZ_Jmvp7KPeWyYjcGR47LlRguXyzqqNONudLlgELe2lNBw/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkigNzyDhT-kdcr6yyjx4jL7wDtBgLAxrjlCnYMyZwDln29uUIAMW010eqaKVCFeF2KTRf2gUSx_RMBmT3NfJArlAO0pP5vUZ_Jmvp7KPeWyYjcGR47LlRguXyzqqNONudLlgELe2lNBw/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431882725772523106" /></a><br /><br />Awesome anonymous cheese t-shirt gift arrives the morning after tragic cheese-tasting incident. <br /><br />Coincidence? I think not.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-2637041811394883612010-01-25T21:35:00.000-08:002010-01-25T22:02:40.826-08:00Today's Fromage Savage: Tomme Abondance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL44fpIOu-cyaM-PiyOJKP7_1d3SRRzSgcfsVli4dF9Al1BjFNZxe_aWzavT3J2TJpLCFs54Gdzc4NxdeACBM8Fr5Rfur3GHimiunLHzgHRU35-hzoIstoMLbM7G9YidwbbqcXl5E4RyNN/s1600-h/tommeabondance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL44fpIOu-cyaM-PiyOJKP7_1d3SRRzSgcfsVli4dF9Al1BjFNZxe_aWzavT3J2TJpLCFs54Gdzc4NxdeACBM8Fr5Rfur3GHimiunLHzgHRU35-hzoIstoMLbM7G9YidwbbqcXl5E4RyNN/s320/tommeabondance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430923199425188482" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from Rainbow Grocery, San Francisco</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Semi-soft<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Cow's milk*<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Apple slices <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: It seems that the Abondance cows responsible (at least partially) for this French mountain cheese are being regularly cross-bred with American herds kept by US cheese-makers because these particular bovine are both hearty and very fertile. Perhaps that explains why this is one of the sexiest cheeses I've ever eaten. Seriously, one bite and I was on some other astral plane. Abondance is almost peanutty, with an otherworldly mix of sweet but savory, buttery but firm. <br /><br />Cheeses like this often have a kind of earthy smell that's described sometimes as like hay or leaves. Neither of which, I'll be honest, are descriptions that would make me want to rush right out and try a cheese, so I hesitate to suggest that Tomme Abondance has those qualities, although something about the descriptor "wet straw" actually rings a little true.<br /><br />Apparently, Abondance cheese is perfect for making a fondue because it melts well and it's so flavorful. But this is not cheap stuff, mostly because it's name-controlled (i.e., only cheeses from the Savoie region of France can be called Abondance) and isn't around very often. Given that, along with the fact that it's one of the best cheeses I've ever, ever tasted, I'll be damned if I'm gonna melt it down and watch people lose bread chunks in it.<br /><br />Sorry, just one photo today. We ate it so fast, there wasn't time to take another.<br /><br />*Interesting American-cheese fact: you can only buy raw milk cheeses in this country that are aged for 60 days or longer. Anything younger than that has to be pasteurized or it's illegal. Which makes me believe there has got to be an underground raw cheese racket going on somewhere, because that's the American way. If someone finds out the secret handshake that'll get me hooked up with those renegades, drop me a line.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-55793867021755908672010-01-25T13:36:00.000-08:002010-01-25T14:10:41.799-08:00New Fromage Savage coming tonight, but in the meantime...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwI1Xg8sFuZLvt7njgLY6Cs24IBmGqCYiEkuWXz_ODvvjxHtj49sz2DQUZhcLfGq9PFy8U2h9_-me4zk6MaywT0hBnpPtKumHpY1adUUwuUAv1yip6OVFh0BgY7wFFOywblQLym9Mxn3R/s1600-h/murrayscounter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwI1Xg8sFuZLvt7njgLY6Cs24IBmGqCYiEkuWXz_ODvvjxHtj49sz2DQUZhcLfGq9PFy8U2h9_-me4zk6MaywT0hBnpPtKumHpY1adUUwuUAv1yip6OVFh0BgY7wFFOywblQLym9Mxn3R/s320/murrayscounter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430802229543491922" /></a><br />While visiting the Homeland over Christmas (all hail the Garden State!), I made a stop at the place that many consider to be the center of this country's cheese universe: <a href="http://www.murrayscheese.com/">Murray's Cheese Shop</a> on Bleeker Street in the Village.<br /><br />Murray's is...gosh, I barely know where to begin. How about with the fact that they have their own cheese aging cave under the store? That's the kind of commitment to fromagerie that brings a tear of joy to my eye.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.murrayscheese.com/images_global/the_cheese_chronicles_book_.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://www.murrayscheese.com/images_global/the_cheese_chronicles_book_.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I'm currently reading a book that I wanted to share with other cheese lovers, because it's that rare combination of interesting, informative, and fun: The Cheese Chronicles, by Liz Thorpe. Liz is a Yale grad who left a job at a dot com for an entry-level gig at Murray's because she wanted to learn about cheese. She's now a vice president at Murray's. She's also funny, likes to go out beer drinking, and appears to be a super-cute blonde. Basically, she seems to be an overachiever in all departments, which should totally make me want to cut the bitch, but her story is so fun and her writing is so personable that I wanna go make cheese with her instead. <br /><br />No, that's not a euphemism.<br /><br />I'm actually learning quite a lot from the book about cheese and cheese making, including some more effective language for describing a cheese's tastes and textures. I'm hoping that somewhere in the book is an explanation of how Liz stays so impossibly cute and thin around all that cheese, because all I have to do is look at the sign for Murray's and my ass starts getting bigger. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkmWGkspi3YWoFegqe6b93WMm8brr8Wk6v_0NaKL3OIw9Dszat0_QkdSlsLdmt2BZdKiSb0sigZJ4QqI7BHuWLWvlAnzTQOZJffi3plTi1MSm7vw2lW_P4W3VOhxyKM9naMZtrHJW4Z4kw/s1600-h/murrays.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkmWGkspi3YWoFegqe6b93WMm8brr8Wk6v_0NaKL3OIw9Dszat0_QkdSlsLdmt2BZdKiSb0sigZJ4QqI7BHuWLWvlAnzTQOZJffi3plTi1MSm7vw2lW_P4W3VOhxyKM9naMZtrHJW4Z4kw/s320/murrays.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430801893420870034" /></a><br /><br />....aaaaaaand, there it goes again. I am definitely not ready for this jelly.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-74617171329408905642010-01-21T17:46:00.000-08:002010-01-22T15:31:44.588-08:00Today's Fromage Savage: Calabrese Table Cheese<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmEnoDbLTFv8hzoLLmL6VW2q2sG2wF_6siUrj5KrvTDNXiB5-NJEGrs2t6rnkfglETdRM0Rvif4GucpXycfPSOiPcOI5fIjPhuX62eisIs-iX9tjjIANhuEdEongywawAk-lpzzkR7U6G/s1600-h/photo(3).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmEnoDbLTFv8hzoLLmL6VW2q2sG2wF_6siUrj5KrvTDNXiB5-NJEGrs2t6rnkfglETdRM0Rvif4GucpXycfPSOiPcOI5fIjPhuX62eisIs-iX9tjjIANhuEdEongywawAk-lpzzkR7U6G/s320/photo(3).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429381159620648114" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from <a href="http://www.corradosmarket.com/home/index.html">Corrado's</a>, Clifton, NJ</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Semi-soft<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Sheep's milk (I think--it didn't say on the package, but it has the right consistency and Calabria is known mostly for cow and sheep's milk cheeses)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Everything I could carry from the Corrado's deli counter, including hot peppers stuffed with cheese and salami, homemade sopressata, arrancini (stuffed rice balls), and fresh Semolina bread<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi150zFPV26ap938wYSMPuM_k-IwlN_FpXZtJDGg65ri9_BGjacJ1lJ5YLWepU1VBflGisxWT5A-qBUhZJKyX3bvqvcHbCpkQerwR1X-6g9BArqPk74A_-M40WI9cQadFXI2LqxZeznubT1/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi150zFPV26ap938wYSMPuM_k-IwlN_FpXZtJDGg65ri9_BGjacJ1lJ5YLWepU1VBflGisxWT5A-qBUhZJKyX3bvqvcHbCpkQerwR1X-6g9BArqPk74A_-M40WI9cQadFXI2LqxZeznubT1/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429381459947041458" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: As you may or may not be aware, Italy is divided into regions, sort of like states. Each region is known for different styles of cooking. Each is also known for certain characteristics its residents are reported to exhibit. The Calabrese are known for being "hard-headed." <br /><br />I can tell you from very personal experience that there is truth to this stereotype. So can anyone who's met me.<br /><br />It makes sense somewhere in my fevered brain that a stubborn lot would have a fondness for spicy food (another stereotype I happen to personally prove out), and as you can probably tell from the photo, this cheese does not skimp on the hot stuff. But like any good peppery grub, the coating isn't blow-your-head-off hot--it's got a kick to be sure, but it's actually quite flavorful. It looks and tastes like the crushed red pepper was mixed with just enough oil to make a paste that was applied to the outside of the cheese. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-x5GHKwi9xxIwNCULQOfU6zGlK-TCW1_4Ht1Sqg9JQbmOtKJUv_3DtEnkflXZT10hoFWuvUBcxriPnft6WffHXliUNYcPmlz1heHVdNafr1iqZI_7eg6Rtl0hsAgOX72wFl3xWyBflVWP/s1600-h/photo(4).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-x5GHKwi9xxIwNCULQOfU6zGlK-TCW1_4Ht1Sqg9JQbmOtKJUv_3DtEnkflXZT10hoFWuvUBcxriPnft6WffHXliUNYcPmlz1heHVdNafr1iqZI_7eg6Rtl0hsAgOX72wFl3xWyBflVWP/s320/photo(4).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429381239313006402" /></a><br /><br />I expected the inside of this cheese to be mild as a counterbalance to the peppers, but I was way off. It has the consistency of a provolone, but it has a salty, tangy bite to it, the way an aged cheese tastes. It's tasty, but the combo of the peppers with the almost Parmesan-y flavor of the cheese means this cheese is the ONLY thing you'll taste. I guess that makes sense for a "table cheese," which is generally put out with bread for people to munch on. <br /><br />I wouldn't necessarily recommend Calabria's table cheese as part of a cheese plate or tasting, but if you have the fortitude to mow your way through a cheese that'll bite back some, then as my Calabrese grandfather used to tell me (sorry for the phonetic spelling), "Rimanga con me, amico mio, e scoreggera fra le mutando fato de la seta": Stick with me, kid, and you'll break wind through silk underwear.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-25438021633002209322009-12-18T19:48:00.000-08:002009-12-18T19:54:34.933-08:00Happy Hour<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17NT9DEzLFsAdbOO4jTpt7vPEczOjEhD1KKQ7Vt2Wg9s1wg5ym4EWaIlGwYiLj1W7d7WbeBg-qB3E3VHpvHRQPp7V8F0YUp2KOqTM2qPZ94dkkM9YxqAmGcz6MfZk71QVk3Fg9gyN5Z02/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17NT9DEzLFsAdbOO4jTpt7vPEczOjEhD1KKQ7Vt2Wg9s1wg5ym4EWaIlGwYiLj1W7d7WbeBg-qB3E3VHpvHRQPp7V8F0YUp2KOqTM2qPZ94dkkM9YxqAmGcz6MfZk71QVk3Fg9gyN5Z02/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416790625915341426" /></a><br /><br />If that doesn't touch you in a deep and emotional way, I'm not sure I want to know you.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-42037229038576457142009-12-16T21:10:00.000-08:002009-12-16T21:18:32.449-08:00Today's Fromage Savage: Berthaut Affine de Chablis Epoisses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQomC4u2HxJwiwSRQKeGzncn1GYd-mRAX3EFDYnpajvUCSAnbaOzK9GfZuMfF4DkZOiehTFpQLRpeNu_f9xe7ApZkJJT6xPwxf8s3j3QyAHDO1GAnx1sxxPl57RKi4HO4PlcZOXeJZaF5A/s1600-h/epoisseslable.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQomC4u2HxJwiwSRQKeGzncn1GYd-mRAX3EFDYnpajvUCSAnbaOzK9GfZuMfF4DkZOiehTFpQLRpeNu_f9xe7ApZkJJT6xPwxf8s3j3QyAHDO1GAnx1sxxPl57RKi4HO4PlcZOXeJZaF5A/s320/epoisseslable.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416068873385769042" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from Andronicos, San Francisco (and then gifted to me by Andrea, to whom I am forever indebted)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Soft<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Cow's milk<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Mary’s Gone Crackers Original Seed Crackers<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: It pains me to consider that I was in my 30s when I was introduced to Epoisses, because we are clearly meant to be life partners.<br /><br />It is velvety. It is creamy. It tastes earthy in a kind of peat-y way, strong without being overwhelming, assuming you let it warm up.*<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwY2SNEkYwGQcx_8f1tKipcgRYi50SolQezBUaVcxvkds9xuPwZm_zTE5CdKPVtsJOg4ihjeuBLVxMlrZhJAyc7hlKvk3FUETb7TP-wejwx6RZ6kYZY8CYam5oZulvHsbpZMzQjyvhkE6/s1600-h/ep.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIwY2SNEkYwGQcx_8f1tKipcgRYi50SolQezBUaVcxvkds9xuPwZm_zTE5CdKPVtsJOg4ihjeuBLVxMlrZhJAyc7hlKvk3FUETb7TP-wejwx6RZ6kYZY8CYam5oZulvHsbpZMzQjyvhkE6/s320/ep.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416069115123194258" /></a><br /><br />It is also stinky. Really, really stinky. Like, you’ll need to wrap it in plastic wrap and then seal it in a Tupperware or you will be absolutely certain that something has died in your fridge.<br /><br />But I think you grow fond of even the weird, warty parts of your great loves, so there’s something about Epoisses’ stink that I’m actually kind of into. <br /><br />The washed rind is especially strong, and although it's edible (and although I ate it), I confess to liking the actual cheese better than the rind, which is washed with a French brandy made of what’s pressed out of the skins and seeds left over after actual wine is made. Which, in my opinion, explains the strength of Epoisses’ smell, because let’s face it, what sounds rosy-smelling about double-pressed grape skins?<br /><br />A note about the crackers, by the way: I know they look like they’re made out of twigs and dirt, and they probably are, but they actually ended up being really tasty with the cheese. A plain cracker mightn’t have stood up to the Epoisses’ oomph.<br /><br />If I don’t quite literally eat myself sick on this stuff, it will be a miracle.<br /><br /><br />*Instead of waiting for it to hit room temp, I snarfed down the first wedge I cut. That was something of a mistake—this is a cheese that pretty much has to be warmed up, because cold, I think it actually borders on inedible, flavor-wise. Not that that stopped me.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-16944883770096066422009-12-16T16:32:00.000-08:002009-12-16T16:46:26.451-08:00Where Have I Been?I know--I’ve seemingly gone and contributed to the ill-making magnitude of Internet detritus, adding yet another false-started blog to the collection of old wedding invitations and abandoned college syllabi clogging up our series of tubes.<br /><br />But I swear I have a good excuse. And that excuse is mucus.<br /><br />Mucus and cheese are a bad combination. And lest I travel further down this path to Grossville, I will stop after noting that mucus has been a big part of my world for the past few weeks, so cheese has not. Unless you count soy cheese, which I did resort to at one point.<br /><br />In theory, I don’t mind soy cheese. In practice, though, you end up with something that looks something like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyFMeqU0hOG8CFEhJaTjC9Zwl53slLC3WJPibkHkaOFaXMiqbQIww4zlzYsvimCQ3v64gu8dQzSOvNnFumz7FLi2CDRknt0-v1GHmno5Rr7HbhV1KCm4VbtYIBlEFWcHHz3b8acC4goHe/s1600-h/soycheese.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyFMeqU0hOG8CFEhJaTjC9Zwl53slLC3WJPibkHkaOFaXMiqbQIww4zlzYsvimCQ3v64gu8dQzSOvNnFumz7FLi2CDRknt0-v1GHmno5Rr7HbhV1KCm4VbtYIBlEFWcHHz3b8acC4goHe/s320/soycheese.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415996880735816738" /></a><br /><br />That's not what cheese should do, on a burrito or in any other capacity. And when your friend and co-worker has gifted you a small, round container of something soft and delicious-looking that fills your refrigerator with such a gorgeous stink that the dog won’t go into the kitchen, soy cheese is not going to cut it. (Ha.)<br /><br />So as of tonight, I’m returning to the cherished environs of my deli drawer. Stay tuned--if the smell is any indication, I’m in for a stinky-cheese experience of epic proportions.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-36168653697108212462009-11-05T16:17:00.000-08:002009-11-05T16:42:39.779-08:00Today's Fromage Savage: Spanish Manchego Aged 3 Months<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEsk4-dk6thiV2ZVWKV6nP18gK65y-pILH1NVBuzgFGUQJBDm5SaVkfd2GoqB36pcOws0q1RTHqi0bnDntLG1vJZDwlAEt353d4Kw8o2HpeVM49yRpLb6zXIHWERHXSPsjhOL66mD0Zyl/s1600-h/manchego+package.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEsk4-dk6thiV2ZVWKV6nP18gK65y-pILH1NVBuzgFGUQJBDm5SaVkfd2GoqB36pcOws0q1RTHqi0bnDntLG1vJZDwlAEt353d4Kw8o2HpeVM49yRpLb6zXIHWERHXSPsjhOL66mD0Zyl/s400/manchego+package.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400783606076378098" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from Rainbow Grocery, San Francisco</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Semi-hard<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Sheep's milk<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Quince paste*<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: Is "nom nom nom" acceptable as a tasting adjective? Manchego is good stuff, and I am very fond of this particular variety. Three months is, as I understand it, the youngest manchego there is, so it's no surprise to me that it has less bite than some older quesos I've tried. This has the consistency of a cheddar, almost, and some of that same zing, but it still has that delicate nutty flavor--without being too earthy--that sets it apart as a manchego.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTe3paEhmt3wZhNWbyKbnXzqfBklZg9MOw0gseUH-aw3zUU6AI3pYYtXMqw30tPc4Z-Q0wnrPo7RIpBtF_aFGrNUaxKWWyd5nr1I7PEtf9plSCrwxhf3KMvcRjqvsNSpCrJAMeVoNC6R0J/s1600-h/manchego+counter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTe3paEhmt3wZhNWbyKbnXzqfBklZg9MOw0gseUH-aw3zUU6AI3pYYtXMqw30tPc4Z-Q0wnrPo7RIpBtF_aFGrNUaxKWWyd5nr1I7PEtf9plSCrwxhf3KMvcRjqvsNSpCrJAMeVoNC6R0J/s400/manchego+counter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400783702747358658" /></a><br /><br /><br />This cheese is ridiculously good with quince paste, although I actually think that quince tastes better with cheeses that have been aged for longer. I am guessing that's because I am pretty much the conductor of the "salty and sweet together" train. But if you were looking to, say, serve some accoutrement with this particular manchego, you'd be good to go with the quince. That said, toss this baby out with some bread or crackers--mmm, wheat crackers would be great with this cheese's nuttiness--and you're in business.<br /><br />*As my cheese eating goes, this was a pretty informal bite. I'm supposed to be eating carefully right now. I've been traveling a bunch and working pretty hard and most decidedly not exercising, and I think it's fair to say that all of those things led to a moment about a week ago that involved my ass, some pants that my ass definitely used to fit into, and tears. I know for some people I just described a hot Saturday night, but I just wasn't feeling it. Or fitting into it. Anyway, I've been on the caloric straight and narrow ever since, which isn't the worst thing in the world unless you are, as I currently am, working on one of those Presentations That Could Totally Make or Break Your Career.<br /><br />So, I ate some cheese at the kitchen counter with quince paste spread on it like a cracker, and then I threw out those stupid pants.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1_DTyb0_7H29RxMd-ONX6lRw1xmhyphenhyphen7DxcOZzh20mjb3QzaZRJQDlCnsjgpNeT2JWj68JwLbm8nZxedkIHtNCQvAsbl9ePEwDAMcdN6-qEiwEDAdJ301tEBVe5rJux2VgOyf7libmvmeh/s1600-h/manchego+quince.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1_DTyb0_7H29RxMd-ONX6lRw1xmhyphenhyphen7DxcOZzh20mjb3QzaZRJQDlCnsjgpNeT2JWj68JwLbm8nZxedkIHtNCQvAsbl9ePEwDAMcdN6-qEiwEDAdJ301tEBVe5rJux2VgOyf7libmvmeh/s400/manchego+quince.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400784006492180802" /></a>Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-38781382978992957712009-10-21T20:33:00.000-07:002009-10-23T12:05:46.606-07:00Today's Fromage Savage: Bleu de Basques<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOu2z0xxIwnCm5IXfEuetGtENYbB7pfkWGEsnimn_yMD4pjJo8IqG2ARKFUPPEobIUMGVOWG_MzaqpyWtj3yDG-yZuncgSgqjUzdFw4Zmz8onP07Tt8I3UbDAfEpmVNeVZBwmIbCMo0Y9/s1600-h/bleu+de+basques+unwrapped.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOu2z0xxIwnCm5IXfEuetGtENYbB7pfkWGEsnimn_yMD4pjJo8IqG2ARKFUPPEobIUMGVOWG_MzaqpyWtj3yDG-yZuncgSgqjUzdFw4Zmz8onP07Tt8I3UbDAfEpmVNeVZBwmIbCMo0Y9/s400/bleu+de+basques+unwrapped.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395872985699870866" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Purchased from Rainbow Grocery, San Francisco</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Type</span>: Blue<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Teat</span>: Sheep's milk<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trappings</span>: Honey, walnuts, dried apricots, quince paste (just for fun-sies)*<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Taste</span>: 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: <br /><br />"Hot damn! That is some blue-ass cheese!"<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAzwsJj08J7T6srvJryyHaqz_bGqApA2plnY-MoUqPmEmGBPI2HI7nLD2PWdAzHFpJHdKtnwdM1cc_jBfBuR1AckG7V_9EHaUCy4X3NVMxaq5TZE6uW5CQypalOZNONAwbteAOt-ZYW91t/s1600-h/bleu+de+basques+dish4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAzwsJj08J7T6srvJryyHaqz_bGqApA2plnY-MoUqPmEmGBPI2HI7nLD2PWdAzHFpJHdKtnwdM1cc_jBfBuR1AckG7V_9EHaUCy4X3NVMxaq5TZE6uW5CQypalOZNONAwbteAOt-ZYW91t/s400/bleu+de+basques+dish4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395873142997932802" /></a><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />* 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.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8241340117508276815.post-64333932814008627662009-10-18T15:08:00.000-07:002009-10-21T20:29:00.449-07:00A little about what's going on hereLet's start with the assumption that we're all at least a little ruled by our senses--we're all likely to respond to some provoking stimuli. And let's agree that our most extreme provocations are personal and unique. Maybe yours is <a href="http://www.ellwanger.tv/images/writing/travel/trip02/coliseum.jpg">freshly cut grass at the ball field</a>. A live performance of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aida">Aida</a>. A pair of <a href="http://www.christianlouboutin.com/">Louboutins</a>...at the bottom of a pair of <a href="http://www.watch-gossip-girl.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/02-blake-lively-bd0904.jpg">magnificent stems</a>.<br /><br />Me? I'm sleeping with this photo under my pillow:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeeOyMed36S-rFqLSo3BtQ55x4Vs0NsKbFJ05VsbDAKTaXv_ExzJAWZZ_-4IV6A3g15q3HYjUA9Yj3LK84DRS-M9zR2NcgMsp4AHC3H4dPACj-GdRuC68I5ZH21MPD2Ic0dXOgMzqDWV7/s1600-h/cheese.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeeOyMed36S-rFqLSo3BtQ55x4Vs0NsKbFJ05VsbDAKTaXv_ExzJAWZZ_-4IV6A3g15q3HYjUA9Yj3LK84DRS-M9zR2NcgMsp4AHC3H4dPACj-GdRuC68I5ZH21MPD2Ic0dXOgMzqDWV7/s400/cheese.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394109599413702546" /></a><br /><br />I eat cheese instead of dessert. I read books about it. I went to Paris on vacation and visited more fromageries than I did museums. I may very well end up not having children because I'm not sure I could go nine months without eating soft cheeses. Kids are cool and all, but nine months without <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89poisses_de_Bourgogne_(cheese)">Epoisses</a>? Sorry, no thank you.<br /><br />I make it a point to eat at least a little bit of cheese every day. Sometimes it's fancy, and sometimes it's whatever I have time to grab from the Safeway, but I'm a big believer that just about any cheese has at least some redeeming qualities. <br /><br />Despite being a big cheese lover, I'm not as well educated as I should be about the trappings of serving cheese: What wine goes best? What accoutrement should I serve it with? Is eating something with a laughing cow on it always a bad idea? So, Fromage Savage is as much a food laboratory as it is a diary; I'll always explain where I bought the cheese and what I ate it with, and report back on which combos seem to work well together. I'll try stuff from all over the price spectrum, and who knows--maybe it'll turn out that a mini Babybel has more to recommend it than we think.Kristen Salvatorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10460223196595889550noreply@blogger.com3