Experimentation continues
One of the most curious parts for me in this cheesemaking quest is the realization that a cheese ultimately tells a story of a place. Almost all common European cheeses are named after a region or town of its origin: Parmigiano, Gouda, Brie, Cheddar, Roquefort etc. The list really goes on. European statues of identity keep those cheese names under strict rules, as they should be, because there is no doubt to me that those cheeses can not be made out of their place of origin. Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of recipes and creameries all over the world that make Goudas, Bries and Cheddars. They are likely very accurate to way they are traditional made, but to a discerning palette, no matter how good it is, it will be an imitation of those cheeses of origin. It is also true, with out those names, we would be completely lost in conversation. There would be no reference point.
So those names are good and dandy, it’s a starting place to talk about cheese. But I’m starting to realize more and more that no 2 cheeses are the same. Especially when made in a different place, different season and with a different species/breeds of animals. When I taste a cheese that I did not make, I instantly can taste a milk I do not recognize, and if I was better traveled cheesemonger I’m sure I could taste which side of the mountain it was made on and from what breed of cows. I know there are others that have that ability.
Milk is incredibly dynamic and complex. Milk is filled with moisture, sugars, proteins and minerals. All of those unseen things originate from the land, before getting transformed by the animal. The flavor, characteristics and microflora of the milk is like the land’s genetic imprint with it’s own time stamp. Cheese exalts and exemplifies all of those complex pieces into one simple product you can hold in your hand. Simply amazing.
I’m sure the wooden vats came before copper vats. Softer cheeses evolutionary came before the hard. Eons and eons before that, before humans even existed, cheese caves were born. The only reason aged cheeses evolved over time: the bloomy rinds, blues and the vast array of hard cheeses is because of caves in France and elsewhere in Europe, as well as the cooler high elevation Alps, that eventually led to the creation and development of our beloved cheeses to such a sophisticated degree. Those caves cannot be perfectly replicated. They have their own biological biome, air flow and air exchange. It is like taking a sourdough culture out of San Francisco, the yeasts and bacteria in a matter of days will be quickly replaced by the native bacteria/yeasts to which it travels.
When I turn my thinking back to my own herd and cheesemaking quest, I ultimately have begun imitating some of the world’s most famous cheeses. I use well known recipes from books and the internet. I have cut and open most of the wheels from the batches of the last year. I have been able evaluate what has worked and what hasn’t. Some of the wheels have turned out with similar qualities to their ancestors. Although in the end, the flavor is distinctly different. It tastes like home.
Now I’m being led down the path of recreating. Those recipes are just a starting point. It is now up to me to direct. Our milk is unique. Our land is one of a kind. I have now tasted over time, from the test kitchen from the last year, what to pursue and what I would like to enhance. I can tweak temperature, time, starter amount, pressure applied in the first day of the make, that sets the cheese down a certain path. The affinage is a continuation down that path, only helping the cheese from time to time, to do what it natural wants to do. I’m only the cowherd that keeps watch and the maker that is allowing nature to run it’s course.