Pick a Cheese, Any Cheese

[bleudauvergne]

St. Nectaire (cow) is not to be missed.  It's a cheese from the Auvergne region.  These cows sup on the herbs growing on volcano rock.  It comes through on the taste.  Very distinctive.  Just amazing. 

St. Nectaire may very possibly be my favorite cheese of all - to the extent that it's possible even to have a favorite. Actually, might be more accurate to call it two of my favorite cheeses, since the same piece of cheese has an entirely different character once ripened and warm. Yes, most cheeses do, but most are decidedly better one way or the other, whereas with St. Nectaire it's a really tough choice between slightly under-ripe and slightly over-. Apparently, though, I've been very lucky in my St. Nectaire experiences. A couple of years ago, after recommending it enthusiastically to someone whose palate for cheese is quite sophisticated (and whose knowledge is much greater than mine), I was shocked to hear that he was not at all impressed with it. On investigation it turns out that there is a mass-produced form - mainly for export, I suspect - which is considerably inferior to the incredibly, mellowly beautiful-flavored St. Nectaire fermier which was the only one I knew. Bleu, can you tell us any more about this?

Balmagowry, I find that with St. Nectaire, the flavor has a rather unremarkable briny metallic taste and not enough cream comes through if it's consumed before it is ready. You can tell a not yet ripe St. Nectaire because the center of the cheese has a very consistent and firm appearance, almost like cooked cheese from rind to core. You want your wedge to be affined throughout, which means it will begin to "melt" right under the rind, and the center will begin to bulge. You can also tell if it's ready by toching your wedge, if it's firm and wont yield, it's not ready, if it is flexible and "bounces" back under your finger, you know you're getting closer.

If you get a wedge that isn't ready, no need to fret, just let it wait on the cheese plate. Your cheese plate should be at room temp when serving, so a daily airing at room temperature (we take our plate out to warm up at the beginning of dinner time) brings this cheese to it's full fruition within a couple of weeks time. Once it's mature from rind to core, it takes on that beautiful creamy volcanic flavor.

There are two types, the St. Nectaire Fermier, which is never pasturized, made only in the springtime from the cow of Ferrandaise and Salers cows, it is best in the summer. By AOC regulations the cheese must be labeled fermier co-op, or industrielle. You can tell you've got a St. Nectaire fermier if it sports an oval label. The St. Nectaire Industrielle has a rectangular label. Honestly though, the St. Nectaire industrielle can be quite good if it is fully aged. The industrial version of the cheese, which is only sometimes pasturized (and must be labeled so watch the labels), came not from a need to export and pawn off on unsuspecting foreigners, but from a demand for this cheese all year round. They can both be excellent.

Edited March 28, 2004 by bleudauvergne (log)

[balmagowry]

There are two types, the St. Nectaire Fermier, which is never pasturized, made only in the springtime from the cow of Ferrandaise and Salers cows, it is best in the summer.  By AOC regulations the cheese must be labeled fermier co-op, or industrielle.  You can tell you've got a St. Nectaire fermier if it sports an oval label.  The St. Nectaire Industrielle has a rectangular label.  Honestly though, the St. Nectaire industrielle can be quite good if it is fully aged.  The industrial version of the cheese, which is only sometimes pasturized (and must be labeled so watch the labels), came not from a need to export and pawn off on unsuspecting foreigners, but from a demand for this cheese all year round.  They can both be excellent. 

I should only be so knowledgeable! Thanks, Bleu, for such a thorough explanation. From where I stand now I can't remember label shape, so it's quite possible I've had both types; I only know I've never had a St. Nectaire I didn't love. (What this other guy's problem may be, then, I don't know.) But it is clear that I expressed one thing wrong as regards my own experience: I suspect it would have been more accurate to call the two wonderful stages at which I've enjoyed it "ripe" and "somewhat over-ripe." This arose because the last time I was in Paris I bought a monstrous tranche at the Marché Rue Cler, along with some fruit and some bread for tartines (not to mention, wicked wicked me, some rillettes de porc, which I passionately love and should probably be posting about on Carolyn's Confession thread...), and my traveling companion and I more or less lived on that for a long summer day. Subsequently we found ourselves headed southward by overnight train, with our various leftovers tucked away and forgotten in one of the bags - it wasn't until somewhere around the Spanish border that I suddenly remembered, and I dug out the cheese which by now was what John Cleese so memorably called "excrementally runny." Happy underpants and then some! Of course it was absolutely marvelous that way, but it revealed a completely different, unsuspected side of the cheese's personality. The texture was like that of a Brie, but the flavor was St. Nectaire that has died and gone to heaven - and the aroma was powerful enough even to overcome that of the unwashed gentleman who shared our compartment.

[balmagowry]

Ooooh - just looked at the list again and saw another old favorite: Taleggio! In fact, any Stracchino, but Taleggio is by far the best - soft, creamy, and with character and aroma to spare. And by way of a nice (actually rather dramatic) contrast in texture and style, I'd certainly second the suggestion of Humboldt Fog.

BTW, I've just remembered another cheese worth watching out for; it's not on the list. I've only had it once and I fell madly in love. I don't think it's widely available in the US - I think the piece I met came from Murray's Cheese Shop in the Village. It is called Stinking Bishop, and it is sublime. Google turns up this page, according to which it is the very new descendant of a very old semi-firm Gloucestershire cheese, its rind washed in perry made from the Stinking Bishop pear. Who could resist a cheese that is described like this?

It has a sticky yellow-orange rind and smells of old socks.

Its bio then goes on to invoke a familiar friend from up-thread:

The cheese is similar to the famous French Epoisses which has been banned from the public transport system in Paris. In fact, at a recent cheese show in France they were amazed to discover that Stinking Bishop was made in England.

Should you ever encounter this cheese, take no chances: apprehend it at once. It is armed and dangerous.

[bleudauvergne]

BTW, I've just remembered another cheese worth watching out for; it's not on the list. I've only had it once and I fell madly in love. I don't think it's widely available in the US - I think the piece I met came from Murray's Cheese Shop in the Village. It is called Stinking Bishop, and it is sublime. Google turns up this page, according to which it is the very new descendant of a very old semi-firm Gloucestershire cheese, its rind washed in perry made from the Stinking Bishop pear. Who could resist a cheese that is described like this?

...

Should you ever encounter this cheese, take no chances: apprehend it at once. It is armed and dangerous.

I have got to get some Stinking Bishop.

[curlywurlyfi]

Neil's Yard Dairy at Borough Market in London last Saturday had some Stinking Bishop which was so ripe it was actually running off the edge of the table. Ah, happy day.