Today I am taking a break from usual hobby of entertaining you to educate you. "What," you may ask, "could someone who writes a blog about how irresponsible and easily confused they are and who once had to Google how to adjust the straps on their backpack possibly educate me about?" Well, dear reader, there are three things: English punctuation, the sitcom Friends, and cheese. This post is going to deal with the latter – and arguably the most important – of these three topics.
Let me begin by establishing my credentials. I worked in a deli for two years. During this time I found out about various different cheese-producing methods, the histories of many particularly interesting cheeses (yes, there is such as thing), and discovered a huge range of cheeses that I'd previously been completely unaware existed. I also consumed so much of the stock that my boss regularly offered to pay me with cheese instead of money. I have spent time living in the two countries that do cheese better than anyone else: France and the UK*. While cheese is no longer my profession, I have remained an enthusiast in the field and I eat it as regularly as I can afford.
I hope that we've sufficiently established that I can be trusted on this matter. If you are a gourmet cheese expert do feel free to roll your eyes and click away in disgust. For those of you who aren't geeky about dairy products, I will now guide you through what I believe are the most important stages of creating your perfect cheese board:
Let me begin by establishing my credentials. I worked in a deli for two years. During this time I found out about various different cheese-producing methods, the histories of many particularly interesting cheeses (yes, there is such as thing), and discovered a huge range of cheeses that I'd previously been completely unaware existed. I also consumed so much of the stock that my boss regularly offered to pay me with cheese instead of money. I have spent time living in the two countries that do cheese better than anyone else: France and the UK*. While cheese is no longer my profession, I have remained an enthusiast in the field and I eat it as regularly as I can afford.
I hope that we've sufficiently established that I can be trusted on this matter. If you are a gourmet cheese expert do feel free to roll your eyes and click away in disgust. For those of you who aren't geeky about dairy products, I will now guide you through what I believe are the most important stages of creating your perfect cheese board:
Choosing who to share with
This is the most important step of all. Nice cheese is very expensive, making it an occasional luxury for most people. Are you going to share your pricey treat, or are you going to blow half of your monthly food budget on fancy cheese to then sit alone at your kitchen table with a glass of Côtes du Rhône and a Vivaldi recording playing softly in the background as you shovel cheese down your throat with your bare hands, not bothering with crackers – you don't need crackers; you're safely away from the judging eyes of your fellow humans – just filling your gluttonous face an unending stream of cheese until you eventually succumb to a dairy-induced coma and have to lie down for three hours? This blog is a safe space, free of judgement, although its author refuses to comment publicly on whether she has actually done this.
If you do decide to share you must ensure that your money is not being wasted on people you only sort-of like. The one person in your office who didn't notice your new haircut? No invite. The truly wonderful friend with the truly dreadful partner from whom they now refuse to be separated? Unless you can make absolutely sure they're going to leave the human sedative they've inexplicably bonded with at home, no invite. What about those people who you love but who are tragically defective when it comes to matters of taste? If you are confident that they can be educated, or you have enough disposable income to piss away £30 on cheese, invite them, but if not I suggest saving your money and only sharing with people who appreciate the difference between a Somerset farmhouse cheddar and Cathedral City.
Whatever you do, if you are throwing a dinner party of which the cheese course is a part you must not allow other guests to bring cheese with them. They mean well but someone will inevitably bring something unacceptable, or mess up the delicate balance (detailed below) when everyone brings a soft cheese and no one brings any blue. Cheese is best left to one person who knows what they're doing. Think I'm being hyperbolic? I once attended a cheese and wine night to which somebody brought Babybel. Heed my warning.
Sourcing the cheese
Do not, if you are planning on taking this at all seriously, go to a supermarket. Anyone determined to just go down to their Sainsbury's Local and grab a few things from the fridge aisle should click away right now, as this post is not for you. I don't care if it's Taste the Difference. Make an effort.
If you want to do your cheeseboard justice you must go to a deli. Delis are wonderful places, and they are usually run by lovely local people who source their goods from independent farmers, so you must support them whenever you have the financial means to do so. Going to a deli is also tremendous fun, and you usually get to try before you buy, which is extremely helpful when strong flavours and large sums of money are involved. Unless you're willing to surreptitiously open up a Boursin, stick a finger in, and then attempt to reseal it without attracting the attention of an employee, you won't get this luxury in Tesco. If you are willing to do that then I suggest you take a long, hard look at your life and how you got to this low point.
The only exception to this rule is if you are in some godforsaken hell-hole like the North** and there are no delis around. In this case you may go to a Waitrose.
Choosing the cheese
So you've entered the deli. Now what? You may be tempted to just grab everything that looks tasty, especially if this is the first time you have been to this particular deli and they have a load of delicious-looking new cheeses that you haven't tried before. This is where I ruin your fun like the authoritarian fairy godmother of cheese that I am by informing you that the perfect cheese board must be, in fact, meticulously structured.
The perfect cheeseboard is perfect thanks in part to its variety, and there are four types of cheese that must be included: hard, soft, goat, and blue. If you have the budget and the appetite then you can start doubling up, but only once you've got all the bases covered. Whoever is working at your cheese counter of choice will be able to guide you (and, more importantly, offer samples) but, because I am altruistic by nature, I have put together my own list of suggestions. In making this list I have tried to keep my own taste out of the equation as much as possible and recommend cheeses that I know are good, even if I don't personally enjoy them.
The perfect cheeseboard is perfect thanks in part to its variety, and there are four types of cheese that must be included: hard, soft, goat, and blue. If you have the budget and the appetite then you can start doubling up, but only once you've got all the bases covered. Whoever is working at your cheese counter of choice will be able to guide you (and, more importantly, offer samples) but, because I am altruistic by nature, I have put together my own list of suggestions. In making this list I have tried to keep my own taste out of the equation as much as possible and recommend cheeses that I know are good, even if I don't personally enjoy them.
Soft: Here I would whole-heartedly recommend sticking with France – not that there aren't lovely British soft cheeses, of course, but French soft cheese is, in my opinion, the best. Brie is a people-pleaser and a safe bet, but most non-blue soft cheeses are universally appealing enough that you can afford to be a little more adventurous. If you're cheese shopping in the winter months Vacherin is essentially a mountain brie, with the same woody notes to its flavour as its hard cousin Comté. Anything with 'Delice' in the name is going to be a winner; Delice de Bourgogne is a personal favourite of mine as it is creamy to the point of decadence, but with a slight zesty tang that staves off that sickliness that very rich cheese can have. Try not to write off smelly cheeses on the first sniff as they are often, counter-intuitively, milder than their pungent odours suggest, e.g. Reblochon, the main component of tartiflette.
Hard: A farmhouse cheddar is your safest bet here, as everyone likes it and if you go for one of the Big Three it will be delectable. The Big Three are Montgomery, Westcombe, and Keen’s, the only three farmhouses producing cheddar left in Somerset. Montgomery is my personal favourite as it is strong without losing its complexity, but you can't go wrong with any of them. Hard cheese is probably the type in which my recommendations are most limited as I'm not one hundred per cent comfortable with the concept of a cheddarless cheese board, but Gouda can be delicious if you're sure it's the top-quality, non-rubbery stuff, and there's always the trusty favourite Comté – the more mature the better.
Blue: If you've invited people who don't like blue cheese but you think can be persuaded to try it a mild gorgonzola or a dolcelatte are ideal gateway blues. If you've invited people who don't like blue cheese and can't be persuaded to try it then go back to your invitation list and restart the process. For the stronger stuff, there are plenty of cheeses beyond Stilton to choose from: Bath Blue and Stichelton Blue are both firm, slightly bitter blues that are that little bit creamier and smoother than Stilton, making them great alternatives and you look more original. For something sweeter, you can go to opposite ends of the country: Cornish Blue is a firmer option while the Scottish Strathdon Blue (don't cheese producers come up with such creative names?) is softer, more like a cow's milk Roquefort. Speaking of Roquefort, be wary of it. Nice Roquefort is both very expensive and difficult to find in the UK, and the not-so-nice stuff has a horrible, sickly aftertaste that makes it, in my view, not worth bothering with.
Goat: As mentioned in 'My Middle-Class Addictions', the garlic and herb version of Rosary goat cheese is the best cheese in the world. If you can't get hold of that then anything soft and French, such as the classic Chevre d'Argental, is an excellent spread-on-a-crackerable alternative that avoids the strong goaty aftertaste that some people find very off-putting. Hard goat's cheese isn't that easy to come by from my experience, but one that I have encountered is a British one called Rachel which is delicate and nutty, with a firm, crumbly texture.
And thus concludes my guide to putting together the perfect cheese board. Follow my advice and you will ingratiate yourself to the more obnoxious members of the middle classes at dinner parties, cheese and wine nights, and any other events you may find yourself at where dairy can be a primary focus. But what of those who don't like cheese, or do but don't care what cheese enthusiasts think of them? They have nothing to worry about. Cheese is incredibly high in saturated fat, so those of us who judge them will probably have died of heart disease before too long.
*I am not open to alternative opinions on this matter so don't even bother.
**Obligatory disclaimer that I have to include every time I make fun of the North: I don't actually hate the North and am aware that it has many vibrant, cultural urban centres. Please don't throw gravy-covered chips at me.
Hard: A farmhouse cheddar is your safest bet here, as everyone likes it and if you go for one of the Big Three it will be delectable. The Big Three are Montgomery, Westcombe, and Keen’s, the only three farmhouses producing cheddar left in Somerset. Montgomery is my personal favourite as it is strong without losing its complexity, but you can't go wrong with any of them. Hard cheese is probably the type in which my recommendations are most limited as I'm not one hundred per cent comfortable with the concept of a cheddarless cheese board, but Gouda can be delicious if you're sure it's the top-quality, non-rubbery stuff, and there's always the trusty favourite Comté – the more mature the better.
Blue: If you've invited people who don't like blue cheese but you think can be persuaded to try it a mild gorgonzola or a dolcelatte are ideal gateway blues. If you've invited people who don't like blue cheese and can't be persuaded to try it then go back to your invitation list and restart the process. For the stronger stuff, there are plenty of cheeses beyond Stilton to choose from: Bath Blue and Stichelton Blue are both firm, slightly bitter blues that are that little bit creamier and smoother than Stilton, making them great alternatives and you look more original. For something sweeter, you can go to opposite ends of the country: Cornish Blue is a firmer option while the Scottish Strathdon Blue (don't cheese producers come up with such creative names?) is softer, more like a cow's milk Roquefort. Speaking of Roquefort, be wary of it. Nice Roquefort is both very expensive and difficult to find in the UK, and the not-so-nice stuff has a horrible, sickly aftertaste that makes it, in my view, not worth bothering with.
Goat: As mentioned in 'My Middle-Class Addictions', the garlic and herb version of Rosary goat cheese is the best cheese in the world. If you can't get hold of that then anything soft and French, such as the classic Chevre d'Argental, is an excellent spread-on-a-crackerable alternative that avoids the strong goaty aftertaste that some people find very off-putting. Hard goat's cheese isn't that easy to come by from my experience, but one that I have encountered is a British one called Rachel which is delicate and nutty, with a firm, crumbly texture.
And thus concludes my guide to putting together the perfect cheese board. Follow my advice and you will ingratiate yourself to the more obnoxious members of the middle classes at dinner parties, cheese and wine nights, and any other events you may find yourself at where dairy can be a primary focus. But what of those who don't like cheese, or do but don't care what cheese enthusiasts think of them? They have nothing to worry about. Cheese is incredibly high in saturated fat, so those of us who judge them will probably have died of heart disease before too long.
*I am not open to alternative opinions on this matter so don't even bother.
**Obligatory disclaimer that I have to include every time I make fun of the North: I don't actually hate the North and am aware that it has many vibrant, cultural urban centres. Please don't throw gravy-covered chips at me.
