Save Your Parmesan Rinds (For Soup)

Today was soup weather, but I didn’t have much in the fridge, except fresh vegetables from our CSA share. No soup bones. No stock. Then I remembered reading a comment on Chowhound about tossing Parmesan rinds into a soup pot. Supposedly, the rind added flavor, similar to a ham hock. Okay, I had rinds. Oh, did I have cheese rinds.

So, in one went, along with water, bouillon, and lots of chopped celery and onion. I was making soup. It was time, friends, to put some of that leftover cheese to use.

I did a lot of Internet surfing while the cauldron bubbled. Would the rind melt? Would it crumble into a lot of unappealing bits? Every half hour or so, I swirled the wooden spoon around in my soup-to-be and saw a crusty half-moon of Parmigiano Reggiano surface. The rind stayed in tact, but it grew rubbery and amber-colored. It looked like a hunk of pork fat.

Then, I tasted. Ohhh…this experiment was coming together. The stock had layers of flavor. Beneath the soft, sweet onions and celery, there was another taste: a salty note. A rich, buttery accent. Could this be the secret to great vegetarian soups? I wondered.

How simple. How fantastic. Now I will always save my Parmesan rinds. And I will probably save the rind of any hard cheese, as long as it’s not coated in wax. Some people recommend storing these old rinds in the freezer so they don’t mold – not a bad idea, although dry cheeses don’t mold very fast, as long as you wrap them in wax paper and refrigerate them in a plastic bag.

Before serving my soup, I dug out the rind. I tasted it to see if would be good to cube and add as a garnish, but many hours of cooking had rendered it flavorless. All the taste was in the soup I’d tossed together – white bean and escarole, alas. And to think, when I looked in the fridge this morning I thought for sure I didn’t have any ingredients to make soup.

Cheese, Apples, & Ale Tasting

The weather lately has been sweatery, and that means apple season is upon us. Join me for a tasting of cheese, apples, and ale next Saturday, September 18, at 5 p.m. at Quince, 209 W. Girard Ave., Philadelphia. We’ll taste three cheeses with fall fruit, and we’ll have a little brew alongside, to match.

If you’ve never come to one of these monthly tastings, you’re in for a treat. The tastings are a great chance to meet other cheese lovers (and usually a local food blogger or two). I’ll be there, along with Joan Sauvion and Nicole Marcote, who own the shop, and together we offer Slow Food-style tastings – 3 courses, lots of conversation, without any fuss or rush.

Please call or email to reserve your spot: (215) 232-3425 or quince@quincefinefoods.com. Tastings are limited to 12 participants and cost $12. All proceeds go to the store. Please note that this tasting starts at 5 p.m., an hour later than usual.

Martinis and Pecorino

I started back to work this week after summer vacation, and believe me when I say: Grrrl needed a martini. That put me in the market for an after-work cheese, something strong enough to stand up to gin. Enter Pecorino di Pienza, a Tuscan sheep’s milk cheese that loves olives, cured meats, and, oh yes, martinis.

Pecorino tends to get lumped among the grating cheeses – a shame. While it’s great on pasta and sautéed mushrooms, it’s an uncomplicated loner – salty, nutty, robust…worthy of cocktails and a stand-alone role. To read on, click here.

Full disclosure: This post is part of a series I'm writing for Di Bruno Bros., one of my fave cheese haunts in Philly. The deal is, I get paid to guest-blog for the store's site (dibruno.blogspot.com) on Wednesdays. I choose each topic myself.

Cappucetto Rosso: Pair with Fangs

Take one look at this cheese and tell me it doesn't make you think of the Twilight series. It's a little bit virgin, a little bit vampire -- the white paste, the fir bark wrapped around the rind. It's also mild, sweetly so. I want to call up Stephenie Meyer. I do. I think this cheese would look awesome on a book cover.

Cappucetto Rosso is a creamy raw-milk cheese from Lombardy. The name actually means "Little Red Riding Hood," which is only part of the reason I bought this bloomy dream. The other reason is, of course, the rind. The writer in me loves a pretty cover, and this cheese just might just have the hottest surface mold I've ever seen. Fir bark aside, check out the lines running across this little wheel. Looks like fine print, right?

Okay, textural metaphors aside, this cheese tastes and smells like a walk in the forest. It has a milky front end and a woodsy finish. It's mild, even near the bark, although it gets a wee bit sprucey. Think white truffles, pine sap.

I like cheeses with Personality, but so often that makes for blazin' strength. Happily, this character-driven cheese is flavorful without being too bitey. Tell your children it's fairy brie, and serve it with bread cut into the shape of toadstools. Or slide it into the lunchbox of your tween, along with a bookmark. She'll get the picture.

Note: I bought this cheese at Di Bruno Bros. on Philadelphia's Chestnut Street. I don't see it for sale online, but I bet you could beg a cheesemonger to mail you some, if you ask verrry nicely.

Food-Blog Stalking

In honor of Labor Day, it just makes sense to point out the good work of several bloggers whose work inspires. Used to be I flipped through cookbooks before bed, now I've become a fan of the digital nightcap. Here are a few food blogs I adore this second, oh this very hot second:

Brooklyn Cheesemaker

Here's a guy who makes cheese in his Brooklyn kitchen and ages it in a storage space. If you've ever dreamed of making Epoisses in your closet, this blog is your new BFF...an inspiring to read for anyone with a musty basement.

The British Larder

Never mind that the ingredients are listed in grams, this beautiful food blog makes me want to make “set goat’s milk pudding." The pics here are gorgeous. Even the Malted Prune Loaf looks sexy.

The New Staples

Here I am, drooling over beef fat and Buddha’s Hand lemons, and could I be happier? Non, decidedly non. This recent spin-off from New York Times Mag -- my greatest still-in-print indulgence -- is all about ingredients. How to use them, who is using them…excuse me while I ransack my spice drawer to make room for Vadouvan.

Food News Journal

So it’s not a blog -- more like an aggregator of food articles 'n particles with some blog posts thrown in. I read it every morning as I take my vitamins.

Catfish and Waffles

A new Philadelphia food blog with an emphasis on local eating in North Philly. When I feel grouchy, I just look at the post on grilled peaches with goat cheese.

Di Bruno Bros. Blog
The site I write for on Wednesdays just got a lift. The new design looks grand, and the posts about last week's American Cheese Society conference are a must-read for anyone who dreams of cheese travel. They're written by Hunter Fike, marvelous writer and cheesemonger.

Otterbein Acres Camem-baaa

This little cupcake may just be one of the most exciting cheeses to come out of eastern PA. It’s Otterbein Acres' raw sheep’s milk Camembert, made by an Amish family in Cumberland County (namely, young Katie Fisher and her mother, Lena). I visited their stand at a farmers’ market in Carlisle, PA a few weeks ago, and I nearly wept when I tasted a sample. It’s mushroomy and aromatic with a gorgeously creamy texture.

You know I have a soft spot for sheep’s milk cheeses, and lately that emotional attachment has been nursed along by a new book, Liz Thorpe’s The Cheese Chronicles. Thorpe is the queen bee of the cheese case at Murray’s Cheese Shop in New York, and her new book has a fascinating section on sheep’s milk cheeses that explains why they are so rare. Ewes produce the richest milk, but they also have the shortest lactation period.

Interestingly, Thorpe spent some time in the Cumberland Valley visiting several Amish cheesemakers, which she describes in her book. She doesn’t mention Otterbein Acres, makers of Camem-baaa, but she clearly knows that those hills harbor glorious cheese. She talks at length about Goot Essa cheddar (which I saw in the fridge at Greensgrow last week, for all ye Philly locals). I’m sure that, by now, Liz has sniffed also out Camem-baaa.

If you like Hudson Valley Camembert, you’re in for another domestic sheepy treat. First of all, Camem-Baaa smells like snap peas. It has a vegetal smell that is just pure front porch. The texture is creamy but also springy, owing to the plush rind. I don’t want to put anyone off, but imagine a Camembert circus peanut. Now forget I said that.

The flavor notes of Camem-baaa: mushroomy, complex and earthy, with a hint of wool – “lanoliny” is how Liz Thorpe describes the sheepy quality in these cheeses. Still, there’s remarkable balance and complexity. Camem-baaa didn’t have any of the watercress-pepperiness that I remember from my mad nibbles of Hudson Valley Camembert. I could have let this downy snowball ripen longer, but I was too eager to cut into it.

Camem-baaa is not easy to find, but I happen to know that Paul Lawler is harboring some at the Fair Food Farmstand. And I’d wager that Murray’s has a stash. The Carlisle Farmers’ Market is adorable and worth a day trip if you live in the area – it’s the only market I’ve ever seen that sells whole-roasted Amish chickens. Plus, there’s a great little restaurant in Carlisle that serves local, seasonal food – more inventive than most in Philadelphia (I had in-house kombucha and sourdough chocolate cake.) Look for it: The Green Room.

Please, if you get a chance to try this exquisite little dome of cheese, let me know. I’d love to relive every sheepy note with you.

Hunter Fike, Cheesemonger

Hometown: Philly

Years at Di Bruno Bros.: 14

Fave cheese of the moment: Anton’s Red Love. It’s a washed-rind, brie-style cheese from Germany, and it’s made by a guy named Anton. He named the cheese after his wife, who is a redhead. Pair it with a Riesling, and you have to spread it on Faragalli’s Bread.

Best utensil behind the counter: My chef knife. A lot of people use a wire to cut cheese, but the chef knife does everything.

Condiment of choice: I’m really into Tait Farm jams...

To read more, please click here.

Full disclosure: This post is part of a series I'm writing for Di Bruno Bros., one of my fave cheese haunts in Philly. The deal is, I get paid to guest-blog for the store's site (dibruno.blogspot.com) on Wednesdays. I chose each topic myself.