Making Camembert: A Slideshow

This young Camembert will soon be covered by a thin layer of 

white mold, which the French poetically call, "croûte fleurie."

On the first day of the cheesemaking workshop, we made Camembert while the Cheddar was being pressed.  As you will see in the slideshow, the process for making this soft-ripened cheese does not include several of the steps that Cheddar requires, such as scalding and milling the curd, and pressing the cheese under weights.  

Camembert is an unpressed cheese, its curd drained exclusively by gravity.  A Camembert mold is 4.5 inches tall, and the curd initially fills it to the brim.  After several hours of draining, during which time the cheese is flipped in the mold, the curd settles to about one-third of the height of the mold.   

Jim explained that the drying process of the molded cheese is important in its rind development: blue mold may develop if the Camembert is not dried thoroughly, but the white mold will not form at all if it is too dry.  The rind is actually a product of three distinct microbe populations: yeast, geotricum, and P. candidum.  Full development of the rind takes about two weeks, and the interior of the Camembert will ripen over the following one to two weeks.  Of course, that's a matter of personal preference.  

View the Camembert slideshow.

Making Cheddar: A Slideshow

Cheddar likes to work under pressure.

Cheddar was the first cheese that we tackled in Jim Wallace's Advanced Cheesemaking workshop.    

For a detailed synopsis of cheddar making, view my slideshow.  Display the descriptive captions by selecting "Options" in the lower-right corner.

Cheesemaking Workshop with Jim Wallace

A batch of cow's milk ripens in Jim Wallace's cheese room 

in preparation for our cheesemaking workshop.

Who here has read Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle?  Those of you with your hands raised will recognize the name Ricki Carroll.  Ms. Carroll runs New England Cheesemaking Supply, and she has taught thousands of people to make cheese through her book and workshops.

Anyone who wants to take their cheesemaking efforts to the next level should learn the name Jim Wallace.  Of course, it may already be known to you: perhaps you've read his advice on NECS's website, where Jim is the resident "tech guy;" maybe you know him by his brewing efforts (ribbons from beer competitions line a corner of his basement brewery); you may have browsed through the art gallery that he and his wife, Robin, own in Shelburne Falls, MA.

Many folks in the world of artisan cheese know Jim as a friend and consultant.  And I do mean the world: Jim is on a first-name basis with many artisan cheesemakers in the US, and has traveled extensively in Europe to learn the "old ways" from producers of classic cheeses like Parmigiana-Reggiano, Reblochon, and farmhouse Cheddar.  Jim shares his knowledge with aspiring artisans in workshops held in his home, which is where I met him this past weekend.

The workshop attendees ranged in experience and goals: beginners (including yours truly) who obtain milk from local sources; hobbyists who own small goat herds; dairy operators who will produce cheese commercially.  One woman, upon her return to Tibet, will make cheese from dro (yak) milk for students of her primary school.  

We were a diverse crowd, united in our pursuit of cheese edibility... er, excellence.  Jim guided us through the production of three aged, cow's milk cheeses: traditional Cheddar, Camembert, and vacha Toscano.  The final cheeses would display different textures, flavors, and appearances based on our choices in culture, temperature, and timing.  We learned about the importance of acid development, techniques for controlling the moisture of the curd, molding and pressing, and affinage of the cheeses. 

Of course, one can learn about acidity testing and floculation from books; Jim recommended several titles for delving deeper into the technical aspects of cheesemaking.  However, in his basement-cum-cheese-room-sometimes-brewery, we got a sense of the intuitive side of the process.  Jim explained how the outcome of cheesemaking can direct changes to improve the next batch.  We discussed how lifestyle-- that of say, a Norman farm wife, or an Alpine shepherd-- contributed to the characteristics of some of the world's great cheeses.  While this perspective is helpful to us in emulating classic cheeses, it also provides the freedom to create a new generation of unique, American artisan cheeses.

By popular request, Jim also shared his secrets for creating cloudlike mozzarella, fluffy whey ricotta, and smooth yogurt.  While I won't reveal those, I will share photos and summaries of the making of Cheddar, Camembert, and toma in forthcoming posts.

Crème Fraîche + Churning = Love

Serving suggestion: Spread cultured butter thickly on bread. Or muffins. Or crackers.

Thanks to Wonderful Husband Charles for white ceramic butter bell.

We've talked a bit about butter here at Savor Culture, even discussed the pleasures of churning (and eating) your own beurre maison.  Well, hold on to your whisk, because butter just got even better.  Cultured butter is more flavorful than sweet cream butter, making it the ideal partner for your carb of choice: potatoes, sliced bread, warm rolls, plain rice, saltines, cornbread.  Or, for the well-behaved, apply it lovingly to spring vegetables like green peas, asparagus, radishes, and artichokes.

Cultured butter is basically churned crème fraîche: starter culture is added to heavy cream, which is ripened for twelve hours or so before churning.  The result is a butter with complexity and a hint of acidity, one that begs for a pinch of salt and a permanent place at the dinner table.  I guarantee that if you serve cultured butter with the bread basket at your next dinner party, your guests will notice.  There are likely several brands of cultured butter at your grocery store; I recommend one with some salt, like the version from Vermont Butter & Cheese Co.  

Making your own cultured butter is simple, but the quality of its few ingredients is paramount.  You will need heavy cream, of course; organic or local cream is preferable, but be sure that it isn't ultra-pasteurized (a sell-by date more than three weeks away is your clue).  Ultra-pasteurized dairy products have been subjected to such high temperatures that their flavor and protein structure are damaged.  

Ripening the cream requires a mesophilic starter culture, which is active at low temperatures.  You may purchase crème fraîche, buttermilk, or fresh starter for this purpose; alternatively, use all-natural (no stabilizers or preservatives) buttermilk or crème fraîche to provide the bacterial cultures.  I used mesophilic culture, which I also used to make mozzarella; the butter has a hint of cheesy flavor.  I believe that buttermilk or crème fraîche culture will produce a milder flavor.

Then, it's a matter of time: allow the cream to ripen overnight at room temperature.  After twelve hours, the cream should appear thickened and have a slightly sour scent, like yogurt or sour cream.  Note: The presence of bubbles indicates undesirable bacteria, and the cream should be discarded.  Using fresh dairy products and clean utensils will prevent this-- I've never had a problem.

Next, the churning, and there's some good news here: butter formation occurs much more quickly with cultured cream than with sweet cream.  In fact, the butter formed so quickly in my stand mixer that buttermilk was splashing on the counter within three minutes!  I haven't used a manual method, such as hand-churning or shaking the butter in a jar, but cultured cream makes it seem doable.  Let the bacteria do the work for you!  The culturing process also produces thicker, richer buttermilk than results from sweet cream butter.  This article contains photos and a detailed account of making cultured butter with a hand churn.

Cultured Butter Recipe

yields 24-26 oz butter and 1-2 pints of buttermilk; can be halved

4 pints heavy cream

1 packet mesophilic starter or 1/3 cup buttermilk or crème fraîche

Good quality salt, such as kosher flake or sea salt, to taste

Allow cream to come to room temperature in a clean, sterilized non-reactive bowl.  Add culturing ingredient and stir well with a clean, sterilized spoon.  Cover loosely and allow to sit at room temperature for twelve hours.

Beat the cultured cream at low speed in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.  Use plastic wrap to tightly cover the mixing bowl as completely as possible.  First it will resemble whipped cream, then it will appear grainy, and suddenly, granules of butter will separate from the buttermilk.  Drain buttermilk into a clean bowl and refrigerate. 

Rinse the butter with cool water.  Knead with your hands and a clean spoon or spatula, and rinse frequently until the water runs clear (about six rinses).  Knead in a teaspoon or so of salt, to taste.  Divide the butter into four- to six- ounce pieces.  Wrap pieces individually in parchment or wax paper and plastic wrap.  Freeze butter for up to three months.

Since rising food prices are currently a hot topic, let's spend a moment comparing the costs of homemade and store-bought butter.  A pound of my everyday butter, Plugra, costs about the same as a pint of local cream.  Thus, I buy Plugra for baking and cooking.  However, when I ordered a half-gallon of heavy cream from my local dairy, I saved about 40%!  The culture I used was about $1.50, the cost for sea salt was negligible.  Churning and kneading the butter took about ten minutes, clean-up and storage, another ten.  An 8-ounce log of VBCC cultured butter costs around $5, but I compare my cultured butter with their premium Sea Salt variety, a 6-oz pat that sells for $6-8 (admittedly, with fancy packaging).  So, not counting 20 minutes of foregone blogging, my cultured butter costs less than $7 a pound, and I get several cups of delicious buttermilk to boot.  A comparable butter costs $10 to over $20 a pound.  Victory is mine!

Need more inspiration?  Check out the March 2008 issue of Saveur magazine to learn about butter in cuisines from around the world.  I liked learning about smee, fermented butter used in Morrocan cooking.

My First Batch of Mozzarella

Mozzarella is a pasta filata cheese, meaning that its curd is stretched or pulled.

This spring, I am beginning to make fresh cheeses at home.  This category of cheese, including such favorites as cream cheese, cottage cheese, and fromage blanc, are among the simplest dairy products to make, along with butter and yogurt.  While hard cheeses require aging in proper conditions (high humidity and constant temperature around 55 degrees), fresh cheeses are ready for consumption or refrigeration right away.

My goal in these first weeks of cheesemaking, apart from its edible rewards, is to understand the process of milk becoming cheese.  On one hand, the mechanics are so simple that they take care of themselves: microbes in fresh, raw milk convert lactose into lactic acid, increasing the acidity of the milk and causing the separation of curd and whey.  It is the cheesemaker's task to control the conditions of this process-- ingredients, temperature, timing, and sanitation-- to produce the desired outcome of edible cheese instead of spoiled milk.  

On this day, I was intent on crafting fresh mozzarella, using the method described in Ricki Carroll's popular book, Home Cheese Making, and materials purchased from her business, New England Cheesemaking Supply.  I used unpasteurized milk from Cook Farm, which is licensed by the state to sell it at their farm store.*  

You may view my slideshow of photos with captions describing the process of making mozzarella.

The process to make this mozzarella called for two gallons of milk, and took over five hours.  During this time, I monitored the temperature and acidity of the milk almost constantly.  I used pH test strips to test the acidity of the milk periodically.  Though it was difficult to get a precise reading, I could determine that the pH was decreasing, as it was meant to do.  The large pot containing the milk was set in a hot water bath over a low, gas flame.  It was difficult to maintain the 90 degree temperature the recipe called for-- the temperature kept creeping up to 100 degrees.  Curd formation happened quickly, so I felt reassured that I was on the right track in spite of these snags.  

Overall, my first batch of mozzarella was successful: its flavor was fresh, it melts beautifully, and no one who ate it suffered gastric distress.  However, its texture was tough, even rubbery.  This unfortunate feature revealed itself in the curd-cutting stage, when I had to secure the slippery curd mass with a spatula so that I could pull the knife through it.  I could tell when stretching the cheese that it wasn't going to have cloud-like consistency.  

Jim Wallace, the technical advisor at NECS, informed me that farm-fresh milk may require less rennet and lower temperature to set.  It seems that my raw milk is really eager to become cheese.  For the next batch of mozzarella, I won't use a double boiler at all, but will warm the milk in a sinkful of warm water.  I'll use less rennet to promote a softer curd.  

I kept several pieces of brined mozzarella in the refrigerator for eating over the following few days, and froze the rest in individual baggies of brine.  We'll use them to top homemade pizza over the next few weeks.  

If this account has prompted a craving for fresh mozzarella, there are quicker options for making it in your own kitchen.  NECS sells kits to make 30 Minute Mozzarella using your microwave.  Other companies sell fresh mozzarella curd, ready to be submerged in hot water, stretched, and shaped.  

Stay tuned for more cheesemaking adventures!

*The decision to consume raw milk products is a personal one.  I have a healthy immune system and trust the farm that supplies my raw milk.  Women who are pregnant or nursing, the elderly, and people with compromised immune systems are advised to avoid raw milk.  In the U.S., it is illegal to sell a raw milk cheese that has been aged less than 60 days.  An Internet search will provide information from both sides of the raw milk debate.

Discovering the Dirty Truth

The Dirty Truth features 40 taps and a satisfying menu.

Lately, I've been disappointed in Old Man Winter's offerings to our corner of New England: rain, sleet, and temperatures in the 40's.  I've been eager to log some hours on my new snowboard, but the weather has not been favorable for that activity.  However, it turns out that conditions are just right for relaxing on a bar stool at a cozy establishment, with an entertaining companion and an intriguing beverage close at hand.

My wonderful husband being the perfect date, I looked to The Dirty Truth to supply the rest.  I had heard raves about the beer hall from friends, and finally figured out that I've unknowingly passed it a dozen times.  The storefront on Main Street in Northampton, MA, is understated; that is, it displays no sign, only a folding chalkboard on the sidewalk listing menu specials.  However, the interior is bold, with deep red walls, an oversized, metalwork clock, and a row of forty (40) taps. 

From the wall-mounted chalkboard, we chose our first beers: Maudite and Trois Pistoles, both Belgian-style brews from Unibroue in Quebec.  I love the richness and complexity of their beers, and this was the first time I'd tasted them from a keg.  You can find Unibroue bottles in four-packs at better beer retailers.

We then turned our attention to the printed menu, which included the list of bottled beer, wines by the glass, and menu items.  There was some controversy over who would order the Cuban pork sandwich; I graciously allowed Charles that privilege, reserving the right to share.  I chose the chicken pot pie, and we called out a request for onion rings at the last minute.

A small mountain of onion rings was delivered shortly: hot, crispy, sweet, fantastic!  The beer batter and sweetness of the onions were irresistible, perfectly complemented by the mellow heat of Cajun mayonnaise (I don't know what exactly was in it, I was too busy enjoying it to analyze).

The best was yet to come, in the form of a soft bun densely layered with succulent, flavorful shaved ham, moist pork roast, and melted gruyere.  My first bite of (Charles's) sandwich surprised me with a kick of horseradish and a kiss of sweet pickle.  Normally, I'm not a fan of either, but this combination was heavenly.  The thin, sweet potato frites occupying the other half of the plate provided a simple, satisfying counterpoint to the unrestrained flavors of the sandwich.

What? Oh right, the chicken pot pie.  It was satisfactory.  Nicely browned puff pastry crown, full of tender white meat, peas, and onions... and copious amounts of thyme.  It was a good dish for the season, but is not the same caliber as its menu mates.  Next visit, I'll try the Dirty Reuben or the catfish sandwich, which I hear are excellent.

We chose a liquid dessert: a Czech lager for Charles, who was itching to grip a stein, and a half-pint of Brooklyn Brewery Black Chocolate Stout.  Remember when Violet Beauregard experienced a multi-course meal by chewing Mr. Wonka's gum in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?  Well, I felt like I was eating a slice of chocolate torte and washing it down with an espresso by drinking that stout.  It was so rich, deep, and complex, I wondered who could drink a full pint!  

If you are near Northampton and like beer, scan the Main Street sidewalk for a lonely chalkboard, and stride boldly into The Dirty Truth.  The barkeep will point you toward something lovely, and you may yet find yourself feeling friendly toward Old Man Winter.

A Land Where Raw is Rare

Chase Hill Farm Organic Raw Milk Camembert (center)

with Vermont Shepherd (right), quince jelly, and crackers

On a recent visit to the Brattleboro Co-op, I asked John the Cheesemonger to recommend something he was excited about. Cocking one eyebrow for a moment, he directed me toward the Organic Raw Milk Camembert from Chase Hill Farm in Warwick, MA. He said that it isn’t often available, since the cheesemaker must hand-deliver the small wheels immediately on their 60th day of life. Why the hurry, you ask? Under federal law, cheese made with raw (unpasteurized) milk must be aged 60 days before consumption. While some styles of cheese adapt well to a two-month aging, soft-ripened cheeses (e.g. brie, camembert) approach or exceed peak ripeness during that period. In general, camembert reaches its peak at four or five weeks.

In countries where this restriction does not exist (France, Italy, Canada, and many more), the consumer is free to enjoy her camembert at any time after its three-week ripening period. Political questions aside, this is important because the flavor and texture of soft-ripened cheeses change dramatically over a few weeks. Upon opening my wheel of Chase Hill Camembert, I noticed the odor of ammonia on its rind, an indication of over-ripeness. The odor faded over the hour that I left the cheese open at room temperature, and I cut it in half to discover its uniformly oozing paste. The scent of the paste was mild and fresh, with a scent of sweet clover. The first bite carried the flavor of fresh milk, though it was quickly overpowered by a sharp bitterness. Eating the rind with the paste actually tempered the bitterness, and quince jelly on a cracker was an excellent combination with the camembert. The cheese was obviously high-quality, but it was overripe for my taste. What a shame I couldn’t enjoy it at its peak!

I will save the government-agribusiness conspiracy theory for the topic of NAIS, because my conclusion is that raw milk cheese is simply misunderstood in the US. From what I have read, I am confident that further research, as is being conducted at the University of Vermont through a USDA grant, will prove the safety of consuming raw milk cheese. Proponents of raw milk cheese argue that pasteurization of the milk used to make the cheese is irrelevant because dangerous pathogens in cheese are a result of improper production or mishandling.

I am in favor of lifting the restrictions against raw milk cheese for two practical reasons. First, as a consumer, I want to have the choice of what kind of cheese to buy, from whom, at what time. I have the legal right to order a rare hamburger at a restaurant (yuck) despite health risks; why can’t I eat my camembert when it still has some springy life under its rind? Secondly, the fantastic artisan cheese producers across the US should have every tool available to them when crafting their products. If they wish to use fresh, unpasteurized milk in a farmstead cheese, it should be their right.

I believe that the raw milk cheese controversy will ultimately benefit the artisan cheese industry in the US. It has led to self-imposed efforts by producers to maximize sanitation standards, illustrated by the pilot program to develop HACCP plans for farmstead cheese producers. It is my hope that this program will be implemented by the time the restrictions on raw milk cheese are lifted.

In the meantime, you can enjoy excellent cheese made by skilled producers. The flavor of high-quality milk is enjoyable even after undergoing pasteurization. If you sample the wonderful variety of American artisan cheese available today, I’m sure you’ll find some solace from the raw milk cheese debate.

Recommended article:
“The Myths About Raw Milk Cheese,” by Janet Fletcher

Pairing Cheese and Cider

It is appropriate that the opening posting on my first weblog should be an account of a new experience: tasting and appreciating small-production ciders. A newcomer to New England, I had previously considered cider to be a sparkling, characterless alternative to beer (if I considered it at all). Yesterday, I learned that cider is a surprising, versatile beverage that can complement cheese beautifully.

During Cider Day, a weekend-long festival held annually in Franklin County, Massachusetts, I attended a workshop on pairing New England cheeses and ciders. I will describe the six cheeses in detail, and will note particularly good cider pairings for each.

Triple, a soft-ripened, triple-cream cow's milk from Champlain Valley Creamery in Vermont, smells like sweet, fresh butter. Its rind has an "al dente" texture, and its neutral flavor does not detract from the citric note of the perfectly-aged paste. When buying this cheese, smell its rind to ensure that there is no trace of ammonia scent, which would destroy the cheese's sweet, delicate flavor. Tideview Vintage Ciders Vintage Dry enhances Triple by developing its subtle flavor of mushrooms. The gently-sparkling cider has a light scent of Bourbon, had a citrusy texture and acidity. In the mouth, this combination produces satisfying richness that whispers, "fall is here." Sweeter ciders did not pair well with this cheese, overwhelming it or producing bitter flavors.

Westfield Farm's (MA) Classic Blue Log is a delightful, aged goat's milk log with a thin rind of blue mold. The piece that I tried had the consistent, dense texture of a younger chevre log, but I imagine that it ripens like the Spanish Monte Enebro. Classic Blue Log has a pleasantly musty aroma, with traditional lemon zest flavor and chalky minerality. This cheese was an acceptable partner to the full, nutty West County Cider Roxbury Russet, resulting in a smooth, creamy mouthfeel.

Pierce Hill, a semi-firm sheep's milk cheese produced by Hope Farm (VT), emulates Basque shepherd's cheese, but retains more moisture in its three-month aging. Its mild, musty scent and full, fruity taste is flattered by ciders with residual sugar. It gained earthiness from Farnum Hill Ciders Semi-Dry, and was transformed into pure comfort food by Domaine Pinnacle's Ice Cider.

Hillman Farm (MA) produces several fantastic goat's milk cheese, including the aged Hilltown Wheel. Its flavor is rich and caramelized, with a hint of characteristic tang. Eve's Cidery Essence, a honeyed, floral ice wine with a vegetal note on the palate, brings a note of cocoa out of the cheese. Hilltown Wheel also paired nicely with Wescott Bay Orchards Traditional Dry's Bourbon-like aroma and lively acidity and Tideview Vintage Dry.

The much-acclaimed Cabot Creamery Clothbound Cheddar, aged by Jasper Hill Farm(VT), is a beautiful, bandaged-wrapped specimen bursting with luxurious, sweet caramel, a little bite to keep your attention, and an unctuous mouthfeel punctuated by fine grana. The classic union of cheddar and apples was demonstrated by this cheese harmonizing well with each cider, particularly with the intense ice ciders. Pair this cheddar with Eve's Cidery Essence for a simple but stunning dessert, or serve it beside Domaine Pinnacle's Ice Cider (read: apple pie in a glass). Keep your port and Stilton, this is how I want to end a winter dinner party!

Great Hill Blue (MA) is a rich blue cheese made from raw, unhomogenized cow's milk. This specific piece of the farmstead blue seemed a little saltier and less balanced than when I've tasted it in the past. (This is not unusual in my experience with blue cheeses; I recommend tasting blue cheese before each purchase to ensure its ripeness and saltiness please you.) Even so, the Great Hill paired well with Tideview Vintage Dry, accentuating the cider's apple flavor, and was complemented by both ice ciders.

My tips for pairing cheese and cider:

• Tideview Vintage Cider Vintage Dry seemed to be the most versatile cider for pairing with cheese. Its neutral flavor and minerality reminded me of sparkling white wine, and it had a similar palate-cleansing effect. Its dryness complemented a variety of cheese styles. Ciders with stronger apple flavor had fewer successful matches.
• The affinity between apples and cheddar absolutely extends to cider. This is a great place to start with cheese and cider pairing. Experiment with a couple of each, and your experience will guide you in future pairings.
• Flavor intensity is important to consider when pairing cheese with any beverage. Avoid lopsided choices (such as mild cheese with full-bodied wine or acidic cheese with sweet cider) that will result in one overwhelming its partner.

The cheeses for this workshop were provided by Rubiner's cheese shop in Great Barrington, MA, and were presented by Rubiner's manager, Laura Simon. Some of the cheeses will be difficult to find and can be ordered from Rubiner's.

Cider Day organizer, Ben Watson, presented the ciders at this and other events throughout the weekend festival. Attendees included cider novices and connoisseurs, home brewers, and vendors from across the US, Canada, and even Australia.

Resources:

Rubiner's Cheesemongers and Grocers

264 Main St, Great Barrington, MA, 01230

413.528.0488

http://www.ciderday.org/

http://www.buylocalfood.com