With November around the corner, we’re entering the ooey-gooey season. Fall is prime time for those unctuous, bark-wrapped cheeses that spread like buttercream frosting, and this year we have a new one, Point Reyes Quinta, to celebrate. It took more than three years to get this beauty through R&D. Turns out the style presents all sorts of hurdles.
“This was completely outside of my wheelhouse, but I like to be challenged,” said Kuba Hemmerling, the talented cheesemaker running the creamery at Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese. The California company had long been toying with developing a spoonable soft-ripened cow’s milk cheese but ramped up the effort for their 20th anniversary festivities in 2020. “Obviously, that party didn’t happen,” said the cheesemaker.
Hemmerling struggled to get Quinta to develop at the right pace—fast enough to be marketable early, but slow enough to have some retail life. The initial vision was a Reblochon-style cheese—washed rind, no bark—but the wheel wouldn’t hold its shape. “We realized we had to move to bark to hold the cheese together,” said Hemmerling. The team also decided that a bloomy-rind cheese would have broader appeal than a stinky washed-rind type.
Quinta (KEEN-ta) debuted quietly last year but supply-chain issues soon arose with the bark. It also became clear that the finicky Quinta needed its own aging room with its own humidity setting. So, more delays. Finally, the cheese is ready for a bigger rollout.
Giacomini sisters (l to r: Diana, Jill, Lynn) honor their mother with Quinta
Spanish for fifth, Quinta has a double meaning to the Giacomini family behind Point Reyes Farmstead. It is the fifth core cheese in their repertoire (after Original Blue, Toma, Bay Blue and Gouda). And in Portuguese—their maternal heritage—quinta refers to a farmstead. This is the cheese the Giacomini sisters have made in memory of their mother, says Lynn Giacomini. “She never was a big blue-cheese fan.”
The California bay leaves that decorate Quinta are collected from trees on the Point Reyes property. The leaves are boiled, then some of that flavorful tea goes into a brine that softens the bark. The bark strips are applied on day one, and a light bloom of white Candidum mold grows over the 10-ounce disk during the 20 to 40 days it remains at the creamery. The cheese continues to evolve en route, and you’ll appreciate that Quinta’s label gives you some guidance about when to eat it, depending on your taste.
At 30 days old, it smells buttery and lactic, like buttermilk, with just a hint of woodsiness near the bark. Three weeks later, it will have more mushroom aroma, with hints of vanilla. Give it a couple more weeks and powerful herbal, mustard and bacon notes will emerge. Look for the six-digit make date on the package to guide you. I purchased a 75-day-old wheel that was just where I like it, supple and silky but not soupy, and smelling like a forest floor.
The Giacominis call Quinta a “single-sitting cheese.” Once you breach this oozy wheel, you really should finish it. Rather than cutting it into wedges (it’s too frosting-like for that), slice the top rind horizontally and peel it back, If you need to store a cut piece, replace the rind you cut away and place the cheese in a lidded container. Pour a dry Alsatian Riesling with Quinta or (my preference) a spicy saison or Belgian strong golden ale.
Look for Quinta at the following retail locations.