Cheese'n Beer Catechism

On Wednesdays, I’ve been skipping down to the Italian Market to enjoy the best kept secret: DiBruno Bros. hosts a free cheese-and-beer tasting. This draws the local cheese geeks and beer nuts out of the woodwork from 5-8, and if you play fly-on-the-wall, you can pick up some good tips…on local restaurants, on books, on which cheeses are perfectly ripe.

This week DiBrunos hosts Lancaster Brewing Company, right out of Amish country. Their Milk Stout and Amish Four Grain look particularly interesting, but mostly I’m curious to see what the cheesemongers pull out of the cave. Two weeks ago, I sampled a wedge of peanutty Red Hawk and a gulp of Troegs chocolate stout, and I went weak – weak, I tell you – in the knees. The combination tasted like a boozy Snickers bar. Last Wednesday, I melted for some perfect Taleggio, paired with Iron Hill Pilsner.

If the tasting whets your whistle, head down to the Royal Tavern for a smoked-gouda burger, and if you find youself eying the truffled popcorn – go for it. It’s perfectly salted, lightly buttered, and wickedly truffley. Confession: for two days, I ate it for breakfast.

For more cheese’n beer goodness: put a big fat circle around Friday, April 30, when the Fair Food Farm Stand in Reading Terminal Market launches its Cheesemaker Happy Hour (4-6). Shellbark Farms’ Pete Demchur will join Sly Fox for some brotherly love.

Grayson

I know, I know, you’re wondering about the perfect Halloween cheese. Okay, that pushes us into orange territory…but I feel strongly that a Hallow’s Eve cheese should be stinky. I mean, if it doesn’t smell foul it won’t fit in with the bloody stump you’ve got sitting on the hay bale by your stoop. Who wants to linger in a witch costume eating something as mousy as a Colby?

I, for one, will be reaching in amid the dry ice for a wedge of Grayson, an oozy washed-rind cheese with a surface that is crossing-guard orange. This is a pungent, dearly gooey cheese that comes from Virgina (kind of a scary place). Think of an Italian Taleggio, then add a muscle shirt.

Grayson is produced by Meadow Creek Dairy, a family farm that practices seasonal grazing – the color of the cheese is actually from the high levels of bete ceratene in the milk. This year, Grayson won 2nd place for Washed Rinds in the American Cheese Society Awards. It has also garnered media kisses from Marty Stewart.

For stinky-cheese novices, here are some suggestions: serve this oozy wedge alongside honey and dried fruit, and know that once this cheese sits out a bit the dirty-sock odor will subside. The smell is most concentrated when you first unwrap it.

The folks at Meadow Creek recommend serving this raw milk cheese with a full-bodied white, a light red, or a dessert wine. Personally, I like the idea of a strapping Belgian ale -- something to match the complex beefiness -- and a dish of salted almonds.

I plan to serve it toasted, on baguette rounds, come Halloween. This year I might just serve all the little neighborhood ghouls a hot cheese appetizer instead of candy. Why the hell not?