Cutting the Cheese

When I first arrived in France in my youth and was presented with a wedge of brie after dinner, I did what most Americans do: I cut off the tip. And was promptly admonished. You’re supposed to cut along the side, getting a very thin wedge for yourself so that everyone else partaking of the cheese can do same, everyone getting an equal amount of rind & paste. At the time, it was explained to me as politesse.

I was reminded of that moment when this popped up in my Twitter feed the other day:

There it was, my long-ago crime, compounded many times over by many different people and splashed across the internet. (I did, in fact, confess to my own commission of this crime on Twitter a couple of years ago.)

Let’s dissect this particular crime scene for a moment: the board contains 3 types of cheese, a white bloomy rind, a semi-firm cheese (the one cut into sticks that look like French fries if you’re not looking closely), and a blue cheese. This is a common number and the usual assortment of cheese types.

Two of these cheeses, the bloomy and the blue, are mold-ripened cheeses. The bloomy ripens from the outside in (cf Ep 7); the blue, at least as far as the blueing is concerned, from the inside out (Ep 8). So if you cut off the tip, you’ll get either the most (for the blue) or the least (for the bloomy) ripe part of the cheese, while everyone after you gets progressively riper or less blue portions and more rind . And the rind itself contributes flavor & texture, so ideally you want to experience it in a consistent ratio to the interior. Thus the desire to have everyone cut themselves a small slice from the side, allowing equal portions of interior (the paste) and the rind for everyone.

In general, you won’t go wrong doing that with any kind of cheese. But then why is the other cheese pre-cut in matchsticks? This was a catered event, not a private gathering, and you don’t want everyone who comes along wrestling to cut from a large, hard wheel of cheese. It breaks the flow of the food line. So you might as well pre-cut a hard cheese that won’t stick to the board at room temperature (unlike a well-made bloomy), especially since food waste is calculated into the catering budget. The cut pieces will dry out slightly, having been cut in advance, but harder cheeses are basically pretty stable at room temperature for long periods of time. This particular cheese is in matchsticks because the source wheel is fairly large and tall. So the prep staff cut out thin wedges, and cut each wedge across (just a little bit of rind on each end for everyone), and discarded the very thin end and the thick outer edge in the back.

Once you understand the basic principle here — complete, balanced taste and texture for yourself with each piece of cheese, and the same for everyone else — any other seemingly arbitrary rules about cutting cheese should start to make sense.

That said, there’s an excellent video by the late Anne Saxelby that delves a bit further into the different cheese types, and does a great job of explaining the nuances and reasons for cutting a cheese one way vs another. It’s also a very soothing way to while away a bit of a lazy weekend afternoon or evening. If you’re short on time, though, skip down below the video for a few words about knives.

Just as it’s possible to lay out 8 different kinds of forks, 3 knives, and a multiplicity of spoons at a fancy meal, each with its own specified function, it is possible to put out multiple kinds of cheese knives. The reality is, if you’re putting out a board for your guests to serve themselves…well, unless everyone you know is a great cheese enthusiast, virtually no one will know one from the next and everyone will use whichever knife comes to hand to cut whichever cheeses they want.

My pragmatic recommendation is to keep a paring knife at the soft-cheese end of your board, and a larger, sturdier knife at the hard cheese end. It cuts down on the number of times you get brie (and the mold spores it contains) smeared across your pecorino. You might also choose to keep a blue on a separate board with its own knife, as blue molds are even more aggressive. Of the knives in the graphic below, the one that I’ve found that is genuinely better for its purported function than the general-purpose knives one normally has in the kitchen is the Soft Cheese Knife. Because there’s less surface area for the sticky paste to cling to, it slices in and out neatly and doesn’t tear up the little wedge you’re trying to cut in the process.

And be sure to listen to Episode 12 for suggestions on what to put on your holiday cheese board. Just make sure there’s room left on the board to cut the cheese! Happy holidays.

Blue Cheese Flight – Tasting Notes

In the name of research for Episode 8 on blue cheeses, I recently organized a blue tasting.

We had three tasters: someone who likes cheddars and blues; someone mostly likes softer, younger cheeses but likes the occasional blue (but has a vendetta against Roquefort); and me, who likes a range of cheeses, but not usually blues.

I picked out six cheeses representing a range of styles:

Blue lovers will notice a distinct lack of Gorgonzola in the list. It’s simply because that’s the one blue cheese we typically get in our house. Around the holidays, Whole Foods sometimes has a Gorgonzola Cremificata, so soft that they dig it out of the wheel with an ice cream scoop and put it in a deli container. It’s wonderfully creamy, a bit salty, and has a moderate but not overwhelming blue flavor. The two main styles of Gorgonzola are both a bit older. You can see them both here.

I must also mention the family of Rogue Creamery blues. Rogue Creamery is in Oregon, and their cheese shop is just off of I-5 if you happen to be passing through the state. They also sell grilled cheese sandwiches there. 😄 They have fairly wide distribution through Whole Foods and higher-end cheese shops, and sell online.

They’re best known for their large, leaf-wrapped Rogue River Blue, though my personal favorite is a milder blue smoked over hazelnut shells (“Smoky Blue”).

Blue cheeses pair well with dark chocolate, pears, red fruits, toasted nuts and dessert wines. The 10 Year white port we found when visiting Porto in May was divine with all of the cheeses! (The producer, Vasques de Cavalho, has been growing grapes for port for several generations, but started their own label only recently. They’re still fairly small, though easily our favorite of the producers we visited.)

Over on Twitter, a couple of folks commented on how little the slices seemed to cost. I had gotten very small slices, just enough for a couple of bites of each for each of the three of us. When you have 4-6 cheeses, that’s really all you want–cheese is rich and filling, and the especially with a plate with all the same genre of cheese, it’s easy to get palate fatigue. So for ~US$10–less than a Starbucks per person–we were all completely satisfied.

So: the evening’s cheeses <drumroll>:

The Jasper Hill is a nice mild cheese, but not much blue flavor or other noteworthy elements.

The Cambozola appealed to those of us who like softer cheeses. It’s a newer German cheese that blends the techniques for Camembert and Gorgonzola. The blue flavor was more of a hint than the main event, which may be a good or a bad thing, depending on your tastes. It definitely leaned more towards the Camembert, with a great, unctuous mouthfeel and butter flavor.

The English Stilton and the Point Reyes blue were the next pair. The Stilton was still not blue enough for the blue lover, but the anti-Roquefortian thought it was just right. She and I both appreciated that it still tasted creamy, even being a drier cheese. The Pt Reyes is supposed to be a Stilton-style as well. To my taste it’s fairly salty, with a crumbly texture. It was a bit more brittle than the English Stilton, with a stronger Blue flavor.

#5 was a French Fourme d’Ambert. It’s softer in texture than the Stiltons, but very salty with a very strong blue flavor. The blue lover was a fan, the rest of us not so much.

This was a blind tasting, but Ms Anti-Roquefort kept trying to identify the Roquefort in order to feel vindicated in her hatred. She had decided it must be #5 and #6, and was trying to decide which was more terrible in order to identify the Roquefort.

#6 was a very soft, creamy cheese, with medium salt and medium blueness, a bit of sweet roundness. I liked this one a lot, finding it very nicely balanced. The blue lover preferred Pt Reyes and Fourme d’Ambert. Ms Anti-Roquefort still liked Cambozola and Stilton best, but found #6 quite acceptable.

#6 was the French sheep milk Roquefort.

Check out Episode 8 for more about blue cheese!

Originally tweeted by IntoTheCurdverse (@curdverse) on July 25, 2022.