Psst…I write to you from my bunker. This weekend, I have joined the freelance trenches to assist Di Bruno Bros. in their latest efforts, a new cheese stall at the Ardmore Farmers’ Market.
My assignment? To describe 300 cheeses for a new set of labels. I have three days to charm these haikus out of my spring bulb of a brain. Luckily, the fridge is full of fuel, meaning leftover blues from last weekend’s blue cheese and barley wine bonanza.
Of the five we tasted, I keep returning to Rogue River Blue, a boozy leaf-wrapped wedge with a grapey smell. Hyacinths. This cheese just might become my patio staple, now that the air is warming and the forsythia is waxing yellow.
I know I am not alone in being a Rogue River lover – someone very tricksy left a dedication on my manifesto.
So, you, wherever you are, blue cheese newbie or aficionado, I toast you from my table, with a nub of this raw-milk blue. So sweet, and so cool – like plums in the ice box.
Okay, back to my haiku. Back to cheese #141. If you are out in the delicious air and you pass a cheese shop, stop in and ask for a Rogue River bite. Think of me, and dried/ peaches, as you contemplate/ the brandy-soaked leaves.
