The Cheese Wheel Blog

I finally tracked some down — the world’s best cheese. Or the one voted Best Cheese in the World earlier this year at least.
Best Cheese in the World? I don’t know about that. Le Cendrillon is certainly unique. I am sure there will be plenty of fans of the cheese from Quebec Canada but I, frankly, was a little disappointed…especially given the awards this cheese has won.
Le Cendrillon (or Cinderella…how precious) is a soft ripened, goat’s milk cheese manufactured by La Maison Alexis de Portneuf, of St. Raymond de Portneuf in Quebec. It comes in a log shape approximately six inches long and well set you back about nine bucks. The rind is rolled in vegetable ash, which can be a little heavy…at least on my sample. I removed my rind before eating as I am not a big fan of chunks of carbon (unless it resides on top of a juicy tenderloin).

Recently, a Canadian cheese was voted best cheese in the world, stunning the usual suspects and putting Quebec’s cheese makers on the world fromage map.
I attempted to track down that world conquering cheese but, alas, no luck in my neck of the woods. But, I did manage to find another cheese made by the same firm, their version of an Oka like cheese — La Sauvagine.
And it was well worth the hunt.
A little disclosure here. The way this cheese is marketed is a bit dodgy. It comes across as a cheese made by artisans, by hand using locally sourced milk and rolled on the thighs of Quebecoise maidens. It is no such thing. It is made by Saputo, a rather large company although it is made in small batches, which does keep the quality high.
That said, it is an awesome tasting cheese, no matter how it is made and how little it has to do with Quebecoise maidens.
La Maison Alexis de Portneuf, based in Saint Raymond de Portneuf, in Quebec produce a number of cheeses that have won prizes and awards all over North America and most recently the World’s Best Cheese at the annual cheese championships in the Canary Islands. La Sauvagine is French for wildfowl and is named so because the area is home to millions of migrating ducks and geese in the spring and autumn.

The cheese itself comes in a small wheel wrapped in paper. In the tradition of an old style Port Salut, its rind is an orange salt wash rind that is better removed. It also gives the cheese its distinctive odour, which, if I may be frank, isn’t pleasant. It’s a pungent, woody almost gamey smell that is strong and doesn’t diminish with a couple of days in the fridge.
That bouquet is no indication of the taste however.
La Sauvagine is a cow’s milk cheese that ripens from the inside out. That means a wonderfully silky, soft centre. The texture is like that of a slightly runnier brie. (“Oh, I like it runny!”)
The taste is definitely one of cream, with a hint of something more earthy – mushroom perhaps. It is also a fairly salty cheese.
It definitely has a rustic taste, much more distinct, complex and flavourful than a Port Salut. There is a complexity of taste that is often lacking in other similar cheese, so if you track this down give it a go.
On another note, the company does spend some effort on packaging and it is duly noted. The cheese comes in a very nice little box with a light wrapping of paper as opposed to plastic wrap. That can only help too.
It is a great cheese just to carve off a chunk and eat with a glass of wine. With the salt and earthy flavours it can stand up to an earthy red wine like an Argentine Malbec or even a French Cahors. It also pairs well with spicy whites that cut that saltiness like a Riesling or gewürztraminer.

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Cheddar Gorge has undergone redevelopment apparently

Ah, the joys of labelling.

I’m a hard core label reader and you have to be savvy about the way things are presented these days. When a bottle of olive oil says ‘Packed in Italy,’ those olives were probably grown in a swamp in southern Bulgaria. But ship it to Italia in a steel truck container, throw on some fancy label with green, while and red stripes and a sepia picture of Perugia and now you have Italian olive oil. Bellissimo! Only it isn’t really the genuine article.

Ditto wine. I once walked up the hill to a famous winery in British Columbia and watched as foreign tanker trucks full of grape juice from who knows where rolled up and began pumping stuff in the back door. I am going out on a limb here by saying that juice wasn’t likely from Bordeaux. I am thinking Peru. But then Bottled in BC appears on the label along with pictures of Lake Okanagan and gold maple leaves and we are all good.

Now ,the English are dealing with the same issue only this time with Cheddar of all things. Can anything be more English than Cheddar? Well OK, dim wit royals, whinging, larger louts and bad teeth (hey, I’m English I can make those jokes).

According to news reports this week , supermarkets in England are selling Cheddar that says ‘Packaged in Britain’ although it is produced in places like New Zealand and Latvia. Latvia?

Of course, Cheddar is now produced around the world, and some of it is very good, but it seems to me that if you see the word ‘Britain’ or ‘UK’ on the packaging you should expect it comes from England, Scotland, Northern Ireland or Wales. I’d even accept the Channel Islands and Isle of Man.

According to figures released by the government in 2008 a record 136,938 tonnes of Cheddar was imported – more than 40 per cent of the total consumed in Britain.

Latvian cheese makers shipped 190,000lb of the stuff to England. By contrast, the last remaining cheese producer actually in Cheddar, Somerset, The Cheddar Gorge Cheese Company, only produced 110,000lbs.

Of course cost is a big factor — a 600g block of Tesco Value mild cheddar costs £2.89, while a 600g block of Cathedral City Mature Cheddar, which is made in Davidstow, Cornwall, costs £4.99.

So maybe that is the key, look for the more expensive stuff and it is probably the real deal. Or, on the hand, stop buying your cheese at supermarkets unless you find you like the Latvian stuff.

One the first “non-conventional” cheese, for want of a better phrase, I ever tried was Port Salut. This mild, semi-soft French cheese has recently enjoyed an explosion of popularity in North America.
It is pretty easy to find these days and most supermarkets will now carry it. Like many varieties, there are good and poor versions and it is worth finding a good cheese seller with a good line on a good version.
Port Salut is a semi soft, creamy, pale yellow cow’s milk cheese that is a great choice for entertaining and an alternative to the standard brie.
The history of the cheese is colorful and well documented. Originally named Port du Salut, the cheese is named after the abbey of Notre Dame du Port du salut at Entrammes, in Brittany. During the French Revolution in 1789, a group of Trappist Monks escaped the Terror and moved to New France. There, they learned how to make cheese to survive and upon their return to France after the defeat of Napoleon in 1815, continued the tradition. The cheese was made primarily for the monks in the monastery. But by the 1870s the monastery began selling excess production through a distributer in Paris. Sales were so brisk that the monks registered a Port Salut trademark under the title Société Anonyme des Fermiers Réunis or SAFR.
In 1959, the abbey turned over production to a factory in Lorraine. Today, Port Salut is produced in a number of sites including Lorraine and Paris. The taste is milder today than the original.
Handmade Port Salut or “Entrammes” cheese is still produced by monasteries throughout the north western French countryside, and retains the stronger flavour. This is a little harder to come by outside of rural France.

You can buy the cheese in wedges but it isn’t too expensive so if you can buy an entire wheel you should go for it. Wedges tend to be wrapped in plastic wrap, which retains the moisture but kills the aroma. Unwrapping the paper from a wheel yields a wonderfully heady and strong smell, which oddly doesn’t affect the taste. Discs are usually about nine inches in diameter and weigh under five pounds. The rind of the cheese is slightly moist and orange colored.
There’s some debate about whether you can eat the rind. Apparently you can, but I tend to remove it. It doesn’t add much flavour and can seem a little waxy at times.
The cheese is aged for a month and finished with brine.
The cheese is soft and creamy and offers up a mild salt, slightly nutty flavour.
It’s also a versatile cheese with food and drink. I like it with some crusty French bread and tomato. Brittany isn’t well known for its wine production, probably better known for pears and apples, so you may want to explore something a mild cider to go with the cheese. The wine does pair well with reds like Chinon and Bourgueil, both Cabernet Francs from the Loire. It also does well with Aussie whites like Semillons.

It is worth noting that types of Port Saluts are also produced other countries under other names. Look for Steinbuscher from Germany, Mondseer from Austria, Loo Veritable and Brigand from Belgium, and Kernhem from Holland. Esrom is often called the Danish Port Salut and is regarded as the closest to the original French monastery flavour and is worth seeking out if you are a fan of Port Salut. Its bolder flavor means it can pair up with dark beers as well as red wines. Made from partially skimmed cow’s milk it is cured in rectangular moulds as opposed to circular discs, has more rind washings and a longer cure time. It takes its name from the monastery, Esrom Abbey, which produced a similar cheese in the 1500s. Production of that cheese ceased in 1559 and it wasn’t until 1951 that the process was rediscovered.

I’d like to say I first discovered Raclette while skiing at Gstaad with the royals, who were enjoying yet another “well-earned rest from their arduous duties.” Alas, I have only circumnavigated Switzerland and never entered the home of neutrality, chocolate, secretive banks and clocks and so my understanding of all things Swiss comes from books and a really odd Swiss restaurant in Canada; Ye Olde Swiss Inn featured boiled meat, cream, potatoes, cream, cheese, cream, cow bell decorations and the world’s plainest waitresses dressed in traditional costumes. It was dreary and ridiculously expensive to boot. So, very Swiss then.

Switzerland is also noted for its cheese, it being the only country I can think of the have a cheese named after it (sort of). One noted variety is Raclette. Pronounced rah-clet, this cheese is a semi firm, cow’s milk cheese originally from the Valais region of Switzerland. Raclette is both a cheese and the name of a meal and is considered the regional dish of the alpine Valais. The cheese is also produced in eastern France in Savoie and Franche-Comté and some artisan farms in the US are also producing great versions.

Traditionally, Raclette is produced in a three pound (6kg) 11-inch round wheel, aged for three months and brushed daily with a brine. The resulting cheese is pale yellow, with small holes throughout and a brownish orange rind. Varieties now exist that mix in white wine, peppercorns, herbs or are smoked. There are also different types of Raclette, named after the areas in which they are made: Bagnes; Gomser; and Belalp.

The word “Raclette,” is from the French word for “to scrape.” While you can eat Raclette as a traditional cheese (it has a mild nutty flavour), its real qualities emerge once it is melted. Traditionally, the wedges of the wheel are heated and then the softened cheese is scraped onto bread. You can also just bung it into a pot and melt it for that most 70s of dinners – the fondue. Get that mobile hostess serving thing on wheels and the Starland Vocal Band eight-track out and you are off to the races.

The meal called raclette, of which those Valois are so proud, is made up of melted cheese, bread, small boiled potatoes, gherkins, picked onions, dried meats such as viande des Grisons, peppers and finished with pears and a short of kirsh. Today the meal is more often then not reserved for festive occasions.

To eat the meal in the traditional way, the Raclette cheese round is heated, either in front of a fire. Today people use a special machine or just cut slices and warm it on a griddle or indoor grill. You can buy little pans called coupelles to use to heat wedges too.

Legend has it that dinking cold water with this meal will cause the cheese to instantly coagulate in the stomach leading to death. Needless to say this is as likely as Switzerland winning the World Cup. But it might explain the Swiss preference for drinking warm beverages such as tea with their Raclette.

If you must drink wine with this (oh go ahead and force me) probably follow the rule of thumb of mixing the cheese with the locale varieties. Fendant, made from that most Swiss of grapes, chasselas, is a good choice. Being Swiss, it’s a bit overpriced but the light taste and floral notes seem to sit well with the heavier faire and warm cheese. There are a couple of good Canadian and New Zealand chasselas around too. Failing that, wine from the Savoie region of France such as a riesling or a pinot gris will be just fine.

 
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In the days of the Roman Empire people from the area now know as Switzerland were dismissively referred to as “Cheese roasters”. By the Middle Ages writings mentioned a particularly nutritious meal consumed by peasants in mountainous Switzerland called Bratchäs, or “roasted cheese.” Raclette as a described variety dates back to 1291, making it one of the world’s oldest recognized varieties.

Casciotta d’Urbino

Browsing through the displays of my local cheese store, I often find it difficult to settle on something new to try. So many cheeses so little time. But some cheeses just cry out “Try Me!”

Casciotta d’Urbino wrapped in walnut leaves is just one of those cheeses.

The nice thing about having Italians run your local cheese shop is they can round up some interesting cheese from that part of the world.

While new to me, the wrapping of cheese in leaves is both common and traditional in some areas of the world apparently. Cheese makers have historically wrapped their cheeses to both preserve and flavor them.

Traditionally leaves, such as walnut leaves, were used to protect ripening cheese. Leaves would create a natural barrier to the elements and preserve moisture in the cheese.

The practical application of leaves also led to the discovery that leaves can also add flavour to the cheese. So while there are better ways to preserve cheese these days, (no, saran wrap sit down) a number of cheeses are still wrapped in leaves to add flavour – Robiola Castagna and Hoja Santa for example – and, it has to be said, a little visual interest.

Casciotta d’Urbino is produced by various cheesemakers in the province of Pesaro-Urbino, in the area of Italy known as the Marche. In 1982 the area received a Denominazione di Origine Protetta (DOP) designation. This is similar to the DOG recognition of wine producing areas. Cheeses have to be produced a certain way and within the specified zone.

This cheese has been produced since the 1400s. Details about lavish parties (are there any other kind) mention the cheese. According to legend, Michelangelo was a well known consumer of the cheese, and actually bought land in the region in order to secure a regular supply.

Casciotta d’Urbino is a blend of sheep and cow milk; usually about 20 percent cow milk.

The cheese is not pasteurized but coagulated at temperature. It is then pressed into circular mold. After maturing for 20 days it is moved and takes on the appearance of flat wheels.

The colour is straw white and has a crumbly texture. The crust is thin. If you have had manchego, it is not unlike that famous Spanish cheese. The leaves are a dark brown and add a slight flavoring to the cheese. They are wrapped around the wheel and remain attached to the cheese after cutting. You don’t want to be eating these believe me.

But of course the proof of the pudding is in the tasting. Casciotta is slightly sweet. Tastes sharp, sweet and is slightly acidic. The walnut leaves add more of  subtle fragrance than any strong taste. As the cheese ages the tastes become more prominent.

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Traditionally, the cheese is begun in the spring, matured for 60 days and then shipped it is usually eaten within six months of production.

It’s a great cheese to eat simply with an apple, figs and a little honey. I hate pears, but I am informed by my Italian cheesies that it goes well with pears too. If you want to wash it down with something you can go in two directions. It stands up well to a nice Chianti or a sweetish white Verdicchio.

There is always a bit of the Bottle Shock type of gloating whenever some upstart country wins a prestigious award. Canadian news media are all over the story that a Canadian company has trumped the French and Italians by winning the title best cheese in the world.
In the movie Bottle Shock, and presumably book, a bunch of Americans took their California plonk to France in the late 70s and won a prestigious wine tasting award much to the chagrin of the locals. Cue all the local Terry Thomas type wine snobs collapsing in embarrassment “un vin Americain???? Sacre Bleu!” while the colonials feel mighty vindicated. (Is that a pun?).
Ditto cheese apparently.
“Whatever the lovers of pate cuite, lait cru and d’affinages fermiers may think, the best cheese in the world is not French, but Canadian,” huffed Le Parisien.
Last Thursday, at the World Cheese Awards (who knew), a Canadian cheese was voted best cheese, beating 2,500 entries from 34 countries. 300 cheese experts found themselves in the Canary Islands to judge the world’s best cheeses. Now that sounds like my kind of gig.
The winner is made by La Maison Alexis de Portneuf, of St. Raymond de Portneuf in Quebec. So almost French then. Its Le Cendrillon cheese, which beat all others, is described by the producer as a “vegetable ash-covered, soft surface-ripened soft goat cheese with a semi-strong, slightly sour taste that becomes stronger with age.”
St. Raymond de Portneuf is located about 50 kilometres northwest of Quebec City on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River.
So now the quest to track down such faire, which was probably cheaper last Wednesday.

Going Green: Sage Derby

It is apropos that having grown up in England, my first cheese choice to review is English.

Sage Derby is certainly one of the most distinctive looking cheeses around. Its green mottled appearance and mild flavour make it an interesting choice for a cheese plate and it is becoming increasingly easier to find outside of England.

Some people are initially turned off, thinking that the green is a result of mold. Others are of the opinion that any addition to a cheese is somehow a culinary sacrilege.

Truth is that people have been adding stuff to cheese for hundreds of years, so while I am not above turning my nose up at blueberry apricot Wensleydale, Sage Derby has passed the cheese snob test a long time ago.

Made from cow’s milk, Derby is an almond to yellow-coloured, firm cheese with a medium flavour. In truth, it is similar to Cheddar although lacks the latter cheese’s sharp distinctive bite. That closeness to Cheddar meant that Derby sunk in popularity as Cheddar’s star rose.

Derby was made as early as the 17^th century in, you guessed it, Derby. (I was going to make some quip like “Why isn’t it made from Rams’ milk then?” but then actually thought it through and, well…let’s not go there). Producers in neighbouring Warwickshire produce a similar cheese called Little Derby. The cheese matures for seven months and is consumed as a year-round cheese. Traditionally, the wheels are washed in red wine giving regular Derby its distinctive orange/red rind.

In the 17th century, Sage became regarded as a health tonic for all manner of ailments and sage was added to the cheese, more for its perceived health benefits than as a flavouring. The sage leaves are chopped and dried and are then cut in with the cheese curds. Unlike other blended cheeses that mix herbs or spices into the cheese after it is aged, the sage leaves remain in the cheese infusing flavour and colour.

Traditionally, and in some modern versions, the sage appears as bits of herb scattered throughout. This traditional method is only used by a few producers. Most producers now go for the marbled look or, in some cases a solid, green cheese.

To get the marbled look, producers blend the herbs with the curd and then mix blended and unblended curds together. It must be said that many modern large scale producers achieve the same look by adding food colouring or parsley or spinach juice. 

I know I like to serve it on cheese plates primarily because the green colour is unexpected and interesting without being some overbearing blue cheese from darkest Roquefort. If you are feeling especially cheesy, (no pun intended) it is a great cheese for adding to a festive Christmas plate with green and red cheeses.

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 Sage Derby should taste like a mild cheddar with a hint of vegetable. The sage isn’t a prominent taste although it can add an almost minty edge to the cheese. It pairs really well with fruit and a number of wines. Try an Aussie Shiraz, a younger red Burgundy or a new world Pinot Noir.

Crottin de Chavignol

The Classic Pairing: Sancerre and Crottin

So let’s get this blog off to a start and talk about one of the classic pairings of wine and cheese.

Few wine and cheese pleasures measure up to the simplicity of a little French bread, an apple and the sensuous pairing of Sancerre and goat cheese. OK, it’s a bit cliché and guaranteed to have any wine snobs you know rolling their eyes. But, it is a classic pairing for a reason. I’ll pick this pairing as my first choice because of a little personal history. My first experience with this was simply walking into a store in Angers, picking up a small local cheese, a bottle of the local white, some form of sausage and bread and off to a park to enjoy in the shade of Anger’s trees beside the old castle. I had no idea of what I was buying but the experience was somewhat transformative. And got me hooked on Sauvignon Blancs.

The Loire Valley produces a couple of the world’s best Sauvignon Blanc wines –Sancere and Pouilly Fumé. These two wines are classic summer wines and go great with salads, cheese and light summer dishes. Typically, the profile of a Sancerre is semi-dry, fresh, fruity white with vegetable flavors.

Sancerre is a village located in the Loire valley of western France. The area around Sancerre also produces reds and rosés based on Pinot Noir grapes which are similar in style to Beaujolais and are not marketed much outside of the area.

Now, Sancerre isn’t cheap but you can pick up some decent versions of it for $20 to $30. As with most French wines there are plenty of options to spend more if you wish. This semi-dry white with the veggie or even grassy notes is perfect with the local goat cheese.

The French are real big on what they like to call Terroir. Basically, it means soil or earth and the belief is that subtle micro-flavours  from the soil appear in both grape and cheese are what make this combination so perfect.

OK to the cheese. A great choice to go with your Sancerre if you can source it is Crottin de Chavignol.

Chevre is the common term for French goat cheese (Chevre is the French word for goat) and a number of mass produced brands are widely available. Any sort of general chevre will be OK but it is worth seeking out some better versions. 

Near the village of Sancerre is the town of Chavignol, where the famous Crottin de Chavignol is produced. Probably the most famous cheese of the Loire Valley, it has spawned some imitators that are usually labeled simply Crottin. To be genuine, it requires the de Chavignon appellation.

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Crottin de Chavignol has been produced in the area since the 16th century and is one of the more distinctive varieties of French goat cheese. The local cheesemakers pour whole goat milk into tiny molds and let them set for 24 hours. Once removed from the mold, the cheese develops a wrinkled surface and is given a salt bath. The cheese then ripens for 10 to 12 days. What happens next is what makes this cheese particularly appealing.  When young, the cheese is white or butter coloured and is soft enough to be spread. You can also warm it and pour over bread. At this stage it has a herbaceous and almost lemony taste, which of course means it is perfect for that Sancerre you have lightly chilling.

As it ages, over a month old or so, the flavour becomes slightly nutty and takes on a richer taste. It also becomes more crumbly. Also as it ages the rind will also change from a light butter colour to a grey and eventually to a blue.

The cheese can be eaten anywhere from two weeks to four months.  By the end of the that time span it is pretty good for grating and slicing for a sandwich. You may also want to move up to a local Cabernet Franc or a meatier Chenin blanc like a Vouvray.