When I grew up, the closest I got to a cheese course was grabbing one of those orange squares, individually wrapped in plastic, and putting it on some Wonder Bread with a slice of bologna. I hope the US gastronomic reputation will not forever be tarnished by the name of this delicacy: 'American Cheese'. So when I came to France, it’s no wonder I was intimidated by folks who can keep up with several hundred artisanal cheeses and discuss them at length.
As you regular readers know, I figured out a system for putting together a sensational plateau de fromage, an assortment of cheeses for the cheese course (see the 5/28/10 guest blog at http://thedailybasics.com). But my education did not end there. Learning about cheese, like learning about wine and the French language, is a lifetime endeavor.
At dinner with friends this week, cheese took over as the main topic of conversation. Bennett, a Californian in the midst of a French immersion program, had just learned the origin of cheese in class that day. It all probably started when sheep were first domesticated, perhaps as early as 8000 BC. Shepards used skins, often the stomachs of animals, as vessels to carry milk. Early astute cooks noticed that something interesting happened when the stomach enzymes began to ferment the milk, especially after it was ‘churned‘ by the galloping of the horses when it was transported. Photo, Sheep at Château de Balleure: where it all began.
Over a plateau de fromage, our French guests began to educate Bennett on the proper way to serve oneself when the cheese is offered. You will be given a small plate and a knife. If the cheese is round, you cut a pie-shaped wedge with the knife on the platter. If the cheese is very soft, like the famed ‘aromatic’ Epoisse pictured above, you scoop out a spoonful onto your plate. But what about that big wedge of Bleu de St. Agur or Compté, lying on its side? A common mistake is to take a slice from the thinnest, center part of the wedge. Very mal élevé (badly brought up). Pourquoi, you say? The quality of cheese often varies within the round. The center may be the prime part, or the edge may the best, depending on the type of cheese. In any case, cutting a slice off from thick edge to narrow center assures that every person gets their share of the the best bits (as in above photo).
Then, you tear off a piece of your bread, and use your knife to cut and place a bite-sized morceau of cheese on top. With this you sip your red wine, always served with the cheese course with the exception of fondue, which goes better with white wine.
Our guests Jean-Marie and Marion also told Bennett about the buying and storing of cheese. Cheeses that ripe are rarely ready to eat when you purchase them. You store them, wrapped, in the fridge and sniff them daily until they smell just right. A Brie or a Camembert (which Jean-Marie says is the best French cheese) will have a soft center, and the color of the rind will darken slightly. If it smells of ammonia, you have waited too long. Marion advised that the cheeses that are marked down and past their expiration date are the best to buy, because they are generally ripe and ready to eat.
Please don’t commit that mortal sin of serving your cheese cold, they cautioned. Take it out of the fridge 3 or 4 hours before you serve it. Photo of cheeses at Les Halles in Lyon by Patricia Glee.
Marion then shared with us a most clever little recipe for dealing with the leftovers from a plateau de fromage. If you live in France, (or if you’re a cheese-o-phile), you will invariably end up with dribs and drabs of this and that leftover cheese, their packages becoming ever smaller as the week goes on. They seem to multiply in the frige, especially after a dinner party. Now I know what to do with them. This sounds so delicous you may be tempted to go out and buy a fresh assortment just to try it.
RECiPE: Hot Baked Cheese Mélange à la Marion
Take several bits of any sort of leftover soft cheese (it’s best if you have a little blue cheese for the mix) and put them all in an ovenproof ramekin. Trim off any rinds that are thick or have seen their better days.
Microwave the cheese just until it’s melted, less than a minute. Stir in a garlic clove, pressed, and some black pepper. Add a splash of cognac, or white wine, plus a sprinkling of herbes de Provence if you like. You can keep it in the ramekin at this point, or put it into a shallow, oven proof dish.
Top the cheese with bread crumbs (hopefully you have some in the freezer, made from your leftover baguettes). Run it under the broiler briefly until the crumbs are golden brown. Put it in the center of the table, crack open a bottle of red, give everyone some bread for scooping, and watch it disappear.
Favorite Reads: For a good overview of French cheeses and a quick reference, I've used French Cheeses by Kazuko Masui for years. If you really want to be a pro, check out Mastering Cheese: Lessons for Connoisseurship from a Maitre Fomager. It's an exhaustive study of cheese and a fun read besides. The cover photos alone will have you drooling.
In the Comments this week: A Latin lesson this week from Mark Kane of www.yourgardenshow.com. Sic transit gloria mundi, "thus passes the glory of the world", he says in discussing his travel memories of a glam Moroccan resort. Patricia is dreaming of fresh artichokes and seafood on the Italian riviera, and Mark and Harriet know Cap Ferrat. Meanwhile Jacqui, back on French living destinations, chooses Bonnieux. Bon voyage, or at least beaux rêves, to all!
Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride. All Rights Reserved.
