Confession: I haven’t told you about all the blue cheeses in my life. There are times when I have three, sometimes four, little blue cheese romances going on all at once. On a Friday night, I might eat a hunk of blue cheese with honeycomb at 6 p.m., then shmear another blue on a piece of dark chocolate at 8 p.m., and then carry a different blue up to bed, along with a snifter of port.
I want to be open with you, but I also know that a few of you have something against blues. You don’t want to hear about my little blue crushes every time you visit this blog. But you need to know: it’s November, and this is my high season. I am going to be bringing a lot of blue cheese home from now on, and you might as well know the gnarly truth.
Here are three recent infatuations:
Incanestro
Think of a ham hock, then superimpose blue cheese over it. This porky tasting blue from Common Folks in Leola, PA is dense, creamy, and salty as hell. I fell for the beautiful scarification on the rind, which comes from the basket in which this cheese is aged. A shout out to Albert Yee of the Fair Food Farmstand who writes about Incanestro on his blog, Messy and Picky, this week.
Harbourne Blue
I took this pasteurized goat blue to a party, and every body wanted a bite – once they saw the price tag anyway. At $40/lb, it’s much too spendy to buy regularly, but on a sparkly occasion, it’s worth procuring a minor shard and eating it unadorned. This is a bright, bold blue from the UK – a little spicy, but icy, too. Imagine incredibly fresh snow with a dusting of chive blossoms.
Basajo
Don’t be put off by the coat of many colors here – this gorgeous Italian sheep's milk blue is packed in grape must, which imbues the paste with grapey, floral notes. It’s sweet as far as blues go and very fudgy. I can’t even write about it without purring. Cheese fan and journalist Janet Fletcher suggests serving it with a "silky dessert wine." Thanks to Gil of the Philly Market Cafe blog for recommending this dream.
There, I've come clean. Mostly.
