Twelve Days of Cheesemas

Around the holidays, putting out a cheese or two in the evenings is a festive way to unwind. For my Di Bruno Bros. column this week, I put together twelve pairings for the season. Here is a selection. To read all 12, please visit the Di Bruno Blog.

Day 1: Pears and Stilton instead of a partidge in a pear tree.

Day 2: Chutney and Tarentaise instead of turtle doves.

Day 3: Nut brittle and French Comté Gruyere instead of French hens.

Full disclosure: This is part of a freelance series I write for Di Bruno Bros. Twice a month, I select a cheese and develop a post for their blog. This is how I cover the cost of my dairy habit.

13 Cheeses Everyone Should Try

This week, Serious Eats put out a list of 13 Cheeses Everyone Should Know. When I saw the link appear on Twitter, I had to click and peruse. At first, the list seemed a little basic – feta, mozzarella, Monterey jack – but then I thought back to a convo I had recently with my writer-friend Sam. He told me he didn’t think he could name ten cheeses. My jaw dropped.

Sometimes I forget that I live on a cheese-centric planet and that not everyone orbits this little star. So, I decided to create my own cheese list – 13 Cheeses Everyone Should Try. I don’t care if you're a complete novice or an intrepid aficionado. If you try even one of these cheeses, you will see the world differently. Your tastebuds will jump several I.Q. points. Your heart will open and a joyful cuckoo will fly out.

Why? These cheeses will show you how good cheese can be, and I think they have universal appeal. I've served all of these to finicky nervous types, and I promise that these wedges will not alienate you. Next time you need to feel revitalized, don’t buy eye cream. Buy good cheese.

1. Cabot Clothbound Cheddar: Made in Vermont, this is the one cheese that never fails to make Americans rethink block cheddar.

2. Midnight Moon: You don’t need a nightcap, you just need a nibble of this firm goat cheese that tastes like candy corns.

3. Rogue River Blue: Right, I know you don’t think you like blue. Eat this anyway.

4. Delice de Bourgogne: A float-away triple crème. No holiday home should be without it.

5. Nevat: Sheep’s milk snow from Cataluna, Spain. Etherial and unforgettable.

6. Truffle Tremor: Need I describe?

7. Parmigiano Reggiano: Get the real stuff and drizzle honey on it. If you can find Cravero brand, you’ll fall backwards.

8. Winnimere:  Like gooey fondue, but wrapped in bark. Hard to find but worth begging for.

9. Montchevre Cabrie: Trust me. Goat Brie from Wisconsin. When ripe, it’s better than fudge.

10. Comté: Look for Marcel Petit brand. A smooth, glorious Alpine. (Pair with a pumpkin ale, a recommendation from Hunter Fike.)

11. Strathdon Blue: Imagine the Atlantic Ocean in cheese form.

12. Pleasant Ridge Reserve: An American original with an incredible array of flavors.

13. Evalon: A new beauty with a wild number of awards. Think: ungoaty Gouda.

All of these cheeses can be ordered online. I'm partial to Di Bruno Bros. in Philadelphia, but I also recommend ordering from Murray's, Artisanal, and Formaggio Kitchen. You can also buy some of these cheeses directly from the cheesemakers via their websites.

If you find one you like, let me know. If I've led you astray, shoot me a dirty look. If I missed one of your faves, for goodness sake, tell me this instant.

Comté, Six Ways for the Holidays

Comte with preserved walnuts

If you love big, fruity wines, chances are you’ll fall chin-over-stilettos for Comté. It’s a big fruity cheese, and it pairs well with everything this time of year – nuts, sherry, even fruitcake.

Imagine a buttery Gruyere with sweet, nutty notes and a smooth toffee finish. This is the kind of cheese that changes people – once you have tried Comté, you will never settle for a mediocre brick. It is, in a word, stargasmic.

To read on, please visit the Di Bruno Blog.

Disclosure: This post is part of a weekly series I write for Di Bruno Bros., one of my fave cheese haunts in Philly. I choose the topics, but I get paid to guest-blog on the store's site.

Cheese Cart Chronicles

This is a story about a fancy dining room overlooking a fountain. In the story, I play a cheese expert on a sniffing trip – a chance occasion to eat a complimentary dinner that includes a magnificent cheese course. It’s a true story, I should mention that. But it felt like a fairytale.

I went to the Four Seasons Hotel on Wednesday to dine at the Fountain Restaurant. Had I been there before? No. I am a diner lover and a taco joint regular. Most nights, I cook at home. That’s why this felt like a storybook. Whoever heard of being invited to the Four Seasons to “experience the cheese cart”? When I received the invitation back in May, I had to think for a minute -- I wasn’t sure I owned the right shoes.

Then I remembered I had some fancy red-leopard-print heels I’d never had an occasion for. Sure, I thought. Madame Fromage will dine at the Fountain in those leopard-print heels; they will be broken in by the cheese cart. And so away we went.

The Fountain Restaurant overlooks Philadelphia’s museum parkway. The dining room is grand, all chandeliers and plush carpet, and the table service is luxe – I went through at least eight forks. What I didn’t expect was that the chef would prepare his multi-course tasting menu for us. Monsieur Fromage and I ate five courses before we ever sampled from the much-lauded cheese cart. But, oh, those five courses were worth it.

I was especially struck by the emphasis on baby vegetables (tiny beets appeared as part of an appetizer, and the rabbit fricassee (below) was bejeweled with turnips the size of infant rattles.) Said rabbit was sourced from Branch Creek Farm in nearby Bucks County, an impressive farm-to-fork move for a restaurant that might be misconstrued as fusty. The shrimp, on the other hand, came from a sustainable source in Belize.

The service was impeccable, the wine pairings glorious. I am still thinking about the 2007 Bonterra Viognier, which tasted like a balsa wood crate of apricots. Gorgeous.

Chef William DiStefano, who prepared our meal, appeared just as we finished eating some perfectly prepared lamb with a lavender reduction, also exquisite. I had almost forgotten about the cheese cart. But then it appeared, a rolling trolley of wedges and wheels.

“Every week the selection changes,” DiStefano told us. “I talk to the people at Artisanal, and they help us put it together.”

I was curious to learn this, since I just finished reading Mastering Cheese, by Max MacCalman – the emporer of Artisinal, a fromagerie and bistro in New York with an impressive online cheese catalogue. Oh, I was not disappointed. The cheeses, they were exquisite. And so was the tray of accompaniments.

The cheese cart at the Fountain offers four categories of cheese – hard, soft-ripened, goat, and blue – which makes for interesting options. You can try all of a kind or mix and match. There were four top-of-the-line blues: Carles Roquefort, a true Cabrales, Blu del Moncenisio from Northern Italy, and Crater Lake Blue from Rogue Creamery in Oregon. What a nice sampling – I was pleased to see a state-side blue included in the selection.

For the cheese afficianado, there were some real jewels. Quickes Cheddar, made by Mary Quicke in Devon, England was an unexpected surprise. Mary makes traditional farmhouse-style cheddar from her own dairy cows, which graze on land that has been in her family for 450 years. It’s bound in cloth, larded, and aged for at least 18 months. I thought it was marvelous alongside honeycomb.

Hoja Santa, a goat cheese from Texas, was another suprise. This just might be one of my favorite new goat cheeses – I know, I know, I keep saying that. Paula Lambert of the Mozzarella Company makes this leaf-wrapped bundle that tastes of anise, mint, and sasparilla. No joke. The flavors come from the Hoja Santa leaf that Paula uses to wrap her cheese. If you try this, when you try this, ask for a snifter of Pernod.

There was also some superb Comte, a hard cheese that tastes like a Gruyere caramel. Imagine brown sugar, nuts, and leather. Mmmm, it was sharp and vixeny. Not your grandmother’s Gruyere. Alongside a pickled black walnut, this was extraordinary -- the stand-out pairing for me.

And so the story ends. But the memory lives on. The cheese cart at the Fountain Restaurant is a dream hive of dairy glory.