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.

A Night of Blues at Tria Fermentation School

Last night was a dream to remember. I went around the world, eating blues – well, figuratively, at Tria’s Fermentation School. When Tria Wine Director Michael McCauley invited me to teach a class there, I never imagined he’d fall for my trick: a chance to effervesce about blue cheese.

One reason I’m wild about this style of cheese is that so many cultures have developed iconic blues. Italians exude Gorgonzola. The French can think only of Roquefort. In Spain, you find Valdeon and firey Cabrales, while the Brits pick at nubby crumbs of Stilton. Even in Ireland, you find creamy Cashel. And let’s not forget the Danes with their Saga or the U.S. with its Iowa flower, Maytag.

At Tria, the fantastic staff helped me pick perfect pairings for 7 wedges of blue. And off we went, around the world on our blue cheese expedition, from mild and milky to ultra-rich and ferocious, with sides of Allagash-steeped cherries and chocolate-fig jam. Here's the recap.

Seven blues, served w/apple butter, cherries & chocolate-fig jam

Cremificato Verde Capra

Pairing: Vouvray Pétillant Brut, Domaine Huet, ‘05

A gorgeous goat blue from Lombardy, served with brilliant sparkly.

Rogue River Smokey Blue

Boon Kriek Lambic

Like an exotic cigarette and a cherry kiss, all at once. Fantastic.

Gorgonzola Cremifacto

Valpocella Superiore, “Ripasso,” Bussola ‘06

A lazy blue with a rambunctious red – the wine was liquid chocolate.

Colston Bassett Stilton with a Stichelton chaser

J.W. Leese Harvest Ale, 2010

Two glorious beasts from the stilton world -- one pasteurized, the other raw – served with not-too-sweet barleywine.  

Cabrales

Pedro Ximénez “Gran Reserva,” Bodegas Toro Albalâ, ‘82

This wicked, sinus-clearing blue was beautifully tamed by a drop of PX.

Carles Roquefort

Sauternes, Chateua Laribotte, ‘05

Salty sheep’s milk meets gorgeous straw-colored Sauternes. It's like a perfect personal ad.  

Birchrun Blue Fudge from Betty’s Tasty Buttons

Banyuls, “Vielles Vignes,” Domaine du Mas Blanc, ‘91

Local fudge kissed with Sue Millers salty blue, served with a spectacular port-like creature.

The Cheese Map, from the back of the tasting menu

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Many thanks to the great folks at Tria for providing a venue like this in Philadelphia. The Fermentation School is used for staff trainings throughout the week (Tria has 3 wine bars that serve an eclectic, ever-changing selection of cheeses, wine, beer, and meals), and tastings for the public are held several times per month. Their event calendar is a must-bookmark site and is especially useful for keeping track of happy hour and their ever-popular Sunday School program (a special offering of beer, wine, and cheese -- at a very low price, only on Sundays).

Blue Cheese and Barley Wine

There are few things I love more than planning a spontaneous cheese party, so that was my gift to myself last Saturday. It was the first day of spring break, and there was my tenure to celebrate. So off I went to Rittenhouse Square on a mission to buy any blue cheese that called my name.

Most people think all blue cheese tastes the same. But you know and I know that’s not true. Some taste mushroomy and mild, while others pop your eyes out with a peppery hook on the finish. The common thread is salt. Most blues taste like tears.

What alleviates tears? Sweet stuff.

That’s why blue cheese calls for port or sherry. Over the summer, a homebrewer suggested I try blue cheese with barley wine. I wrote it down, then looked it up. High in alcohol. The cognac of the beer world. Intriguing.

On Saturday, I picked up four barley wines at my local beer joint and trotted home to match sorrow and joy, blue veins and barley malt.

Here is what we tasted, cheese-wise:

Cremifacto Verde Capra

Rogue River Blue

Bleu de Basque

Colston Bassett Stilton

Blaue Geiss

Now for the Barley wines:

Blithering Idiot (Weyerbecher Brewing)

Insanity (Weyerbecher Brewing)

Cereal Killer (Arcadia Brewing)

Horn Dog (Flying Dog)

Our cheeses ranged from mild and creamy (Cremifacto) to sharp and clayey (Blaue Geiss) with a mellow sheep’s milk blue (Bleu de Basque) and a traditional British wallop-packer (Stilton) thrown in.

Not all of the barley wines worked with blue cheese, but we found a few favorites. And as the night wore on, the conversation grew livelier and livelier. You can guess why. "Blithering Idiot" and "Insanity" are apt names for these beers – they’re not for the lily-livered.

Blithering Idiot was deemed “O Negative.” It worked well with every blue in the house. Pairing it with Rogue River Blue, a grapey leaf-wrapped blue, earned yelps of “A stunning combo!” and “These were made for each other!”

Cereal Killer, which really did smell like Honeynut Cheerios, made a happy marriage with Cremifacto. Creamy meets creamy, go figure.

Horn Dog loved Blaue Geiss. The heavy grapefruit and honey sweetness of this beer pattered along perfectly with this dense, fudgy cheese -- even with its peppery head butt at the end.

Insanity paired off with feisty Stilton, no surprise. Insanity also spent the night with Rogue River. Two magical mates, very flexible.

And that left Bleu de Basque. With its curious flavor combination of mutton and grass, mixed with a hint of coconut (I kid you not – I made cheesemonger Dan Black confirm this tasting), this Spanish sheep’s milk blue couldn’t find a match, although Blithering Idiot worked okay.

Stick around for more of the Blue Cheese Invitational. In the coming days, I’ll unpack these cheeses, blue by blue. As for Saturday night's guests, special thanks to my blue-cheese guinea pigs: Meat Man Mike, Andre of Canada, and April Lindner whose new book, Jane, makes a perfect accompaniment to strong cheese.

My Blue Cheese Manifesto

Last month, I promised to devote March to the blues. Why? Because a lot of Americans live in fear of cheeses with blue mold. And I want to be the angel of Gorgonzola.

Also, I would like to write The Essential Guide to Blue Cheese someday, so let’s call this the preface. Or a party. Or a parade. Over the next few weeks, I am going to put blue cheese on the catwalk. Yes, yes, I really mean it. We are going to have a blue cheese beauty pageant and everything.

Are you with me? Then, let me begin.

I have a testimonial to give:

I love blue cheese, and I want more Americans to enjoy it. Instead of grabbing a hunk of processed cheddar at the grocery, I want more people to buy Maytag. It’s a quintessential American cheese that's been made in Iowa since the '40s, using raw milk. It’s our version of Roquefort but much milder.

I think we need a national blue cheese identity. After all, most European countries have one:

• England = Stilton
• France = Roquefort
• Italy = Gorgonzola
• Denmark = Saga
• Ireland=Cashel

Seeing as many of us are descendants of these countries, doesn’t it seem like we should have a healthy appreciation of the blues? Instead, we are known for the Kraft Single and Cheez-Whiz.

But we could change that if we caused a Maytag run.

America = The Land of Maytag

What do you think? Can we do it together?

If you forget the name, just think of your washing machine. Maytag is made by the same family that makes your home appliances. You can find it in most well-stocked groceries. Look for the silver foil.

Then take it home and repeat after me:

We, as blue cheese lovers, believe:

• It's better to wear fake eyelashes than to eat fake cheese.

• Penicillium Roqueforti is natural and has been safe for humans since 50 A.D.

• Eating blue cheese is patriotic. Especially if you put it on a BLT. (It looks a little bit like a flag.)

• Powerful cheese = powerful pleasure.