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So I've talked a little bit about this cheese class we took, but I'm going to obsess in greater detail.
We did a tasting of six different (very different) cheeses, with six honeys paired to match. When we sat down, we were given glasses of water and wine. (One was definitely Prosecco. They never identified the red, and I forgot to ask. Very light, medium red, very fruity. I'm still not sure what it was. Definitely too light bodied for a Zinfandel or a Shiraz, not purple enough for Pinot Noir. Almost nonexistent tannins. Didn't really feel like a merlot. Dunno. I liked it--it was unassuming enough not to fight with everything else, pleasant and drinkable.) Plus, glazed almonds, apricots, dried sour cherries, walnuts, and bread rounds.
We started with a Westfield Capri chevre. Incredibly light, very lemony. Two days old, so there was absolutely no gaminess. They paired it with a buckwheat honey, which was dark brown, crystallized almost into chunkiness, and had a taste so rich as to be almost like molasses. I have no idea what you would do with this honey. It was delicious, but it's a stunt honey--it would overpower almost anything.
Next was Brie Fermier Jouvence. I don't usually like brie. I'll eat very mild and unassuming bries that have been baked in puff pastries with a lot of jam, but they're nearly tasteless. This was not that, at all. I think some of it was that I tend to be in a different mindset at a tasting than at a party--far more open to experiences that are "interesting" rather than easily pleasant. I think some of it was that they primed me well, though--they described it as having a mushroomy, even truffley taste. And it did--it tasted of mushrooms and dirt. I think when I go into a bite expecting it to taste like a milk product and it tastes like mushrooms, my first instinct is to spit it out as rancid. Expecting the taste, though, I came to enjoy it. The rind, which I usually find disgusting, had a nice nuttiness along with the crumbliness.
They paired it with sourwood honey, which tasted, bizarrely, of licorice. I really liked it, and liked the two together. But again, I'm not sure what you'd put this honey on besides a carefully chosen cheese. Too odd and distinctive to go in your tea or on your biscuits.
Next was something called "Green Dirt Bossa". Soft, though not nearly as runny as the brie. Incredibly stinky--it smelled like feet. I was really nervous, I'll admit--this didn't smell like food. Startlingly enough, once in your mouth, it melted into this incredibly creamy, nutty, slight sweetness with only an underlying funk to give it some interest. Also really liked the rind on this one.
The sweet yellow clover honey that went with it was the classic creamy honey. (Also, Chuckro's favorite.) Crystallized enough to be opaque but not chunky, it was warm and buttery and a little spicy at the end.
The Roncal was kind of like an upscale Parmigiano-Reggiano. Super dry, a little oily, solid with a bit of a crumble. Really nutty. Delicious--could eat it all day.
They paired it with orange blossom honey, which I thought was the least interesting of the lot. It's probably because I've had a lot of inferior versions. It was lovely--clear, golden, and floral--but just not particularly exciting.
The L'Etivaz is apparently an extremely old-fashioned and rare version of Gruyere. Hands down, my favorite. Stiff like a Parmigiano-Reggiano at the edges, creamier at the center. Surprisingly fruity, kind of hazelnut-y, with a whiff of smoke at the end. A. Maz. Ing. Also, it turns out, really expensive.
The cranberry honey with it was also my favorite. Tart and fruity on top of the sweetness.
The final cheese was Colston Bassett Stilton. I don't usually like bleu cheese at all. Again, with really high quality cheese and no distractions and someone guiding me through, it turns out I like this. (In small quantities. I liked my first couple bites quite a bit, but was already tiring of it when I reached the rind. It's powerful, and overwhelming.) Incredibly creamy--I don't think I've ever had anything so rich and creamy. The veins were slightly crystallized. Minerally with a bite. (They said it's a mild bite. I wouldn't want a stronger one.) So creamy.
The blueberry honey was also a bit crystallized, stronger than the cranberry, rich and a little buttery.
So. I would absolutely buy the chevre, Roncal, and l'Etivaz on my own. I am willing to give brie and Stilton more of a chance in the future. (The Bossa, I don't even know if I'd recognize from a different farm. That was just something really different.) I liked all the honeys, but I wouldn't know what to do with a jar of buckwheat or sourwood. Clover and orange blossom are excellent but a little mundane. If I were going to spring for fancy varietal honey, I'd go with the cranberry.
In random trivia, did you know that the reason why goat cheese is chalky white, while sheep and cow cheeses are yellow is because goats convert beta carotene into vitamin A, so they don't pass the beta carotene on in their milk?
We did a tasting of six different (very different) cheeses, with six honeys paired to match. When we sat down, we were given glasses of water and wine. (One was definitely Prosecco. They never identified the red, and I forgot to ask. Very light, medium red, very fruity. I'm still not sure what it was. Definitely too light bodied for a Zinfandel or a Shiraz, not purple enough for Pinot Noir. Almost nonexistent tannins. Didn't really feel like a merlot. Dunno. I liked it--it was unassuming enough not to fight with everything else, pleasant and drinkable.) Plus, glazed almonds, apricots, dried sour cherries, walnuts, and bread rounds.
We started with a Westfield Capri chevre. Incredibly light, very lemony. Two days old, so there was absolutely no gaminess. They paired it with a buckwheat honey, which was dark brown, crystallized almost into chunkiness, and had a taste so rich as to be almost like molasses. I have no idea what you would do with this honey. It was delicious, but it's a stunt honey--it would overpower almost anything.
Next was Brie Fermier Jouvence. I don't usually like brie. I'll eat very mild and unassuming bries that have been baked in puff pastries with a lot of jam, but they're nearly tasteless. This was not that, at all. I think some of it was that I tend to be in a different mindset at a tasting than at a party--far more open to experiences that are "interesting" rather than easily pleasant. I think some of it was that they primed me well, though--they described it as having a mushroomy, even truffley taste. And it did--it tasted of mushrooms and dirt. I think when I go into a bite expecting it to taste like a milk product and it tastes like mushrooms, my first instinct is to spit it out as rancid. Expecting the taste, though, I came to enjoy it. The rind, which I usually find disgusting, had a nice nuttiness along with the crumbliness.
They paired it with sourwood honey, which tasted, bizarrely, of licorice. I really liked it, and liked the two together. But again, I'm not sure what you'd put this honey on besides a carefully chosen cheese. Too odd and distinctive to go in your tea or on your biscuits.
Next was something called "Green Dirt Bossa". Soft, though not nearly as runny as the brie. Incredibly stinky--it smelled like feet. I was really nervous, I'll admit--this didn't smell like food. Startlingly enough, once in your mouth, it melted into this incredibly creamy, nutty, slight sweetness with only an underlying funk to give it some interest. Also really liked the rind on this one.
The sweet yellow clover honey that went with it was the classic creamy honey. (Also, Chuckro's favorite.) Crystallized enough to be opaque but not chunky, it was warm and buttery and a little spicy at the end.
The Roncal was kind of like an upscale Parmigiano-Reggiano. Super dry, a little oily, solid with a bit of a crumble. Really nutty. Delicious--could eat it all day.
They paired it with orange blossom honey, which I thought was the least interesting of the lot. It's probably because I've had a lot of inferior versions. It was lovely--clear, golden, and floral--but just not particularly exciting.
The L'Etivaz is apparently an extremely old-fashioned and rare version of Gruyere. Hands down, my favorite. Stiff like a Parmigiano-Reggiano at the edges, creamier at the center. Surprisingly fruity, kind of hazelnut-y, with a whiff of smoke at the end. A. Maz. Ing. Also, it turns out, really expensive.
The cranberry honey with it was also my favorite. Tart and fruity on top of the sweetness.
The final cheese was Colston Bassett Stilton. I don't usually like bleu cheese at all. Again, with really high quality cheese and no distractions and someone guiding me through, it turns out I like this. (In small quantities. I liked my first couple bites quite a bit, but was already tiring of it when I reached the rind. It's powerful, and overwhelming.) Incredibly creamy--I don't think I've ever had anything so rich and creamy. The veins were slightly crystallized. Minerally with a bite. (They said it's a mild bite. I wouldn't want a stronger one.) So creamy.
The blueberry honey was also a bit crystallized, stronger than the cranberry, rich and a little buttery.
So. I would absolutely buy the chevre, Roncal, and l'Etivaz on my own. I am willing to give brie and Stilton more of a chance in the future. (The Bossa, I don't even know if I'd recognize from a different farm. That was just something really different.) I liked all the honeys, but I wouldn't know what to do with a jar of buckwheat or sourwood. Clover and orange blossom are excellent but a little mundane. If I were going to spring for fancy varietal honey, I'd go with the cranberry.
In random trivia, did you know that the reason why goat cheese is chalky white, while sheep and cow cheeses are yellow is because goats convert beta carotene into vitamin A, so they don't pass the beta carotene on in their milk?
