For years I ignored Fiore sardo, the Sardinian sheep’s milk cheese, because I considered it too salty, smoky and sharp. Then, this past summer, I went to Sardinia, where you can’t ignore it.
Read moreMove Over, Feta →
In hot weather, I can’t think of many cheeses that appeal to me more than manouri. What an underappreciated Greek cheese, forever in the shadow of feta. Would it do better in the U.S. under another name? Does it sound too much like a soil amendment?
Read moreAntipasto Presto
“The main object of an hors d’oeuvre is to provide something beautifully fresh-looking which will at the same time arouse your appetite and put you in good spirits,” Elizabeth David wrote. The eminent English food writer, who died in 1992, had simple tastes but no tolerance for mediocrity. Alice Waters adored her. (I was a lowly cook at Chez Panisse Café when David came in for lunch.)
David believed that a good hors d’oeuvre includes something raw, something salty, something dry or meaty and something gentle. I always think of this when I serve fava beans with pecorino. Although David barely mentions this antipasto in her book on Italian food, it has all her required parts: raw favas, sea salt, aged cheese (although young pecorino works, too) and fruity olive oil. You dip the peeled favas in oil and salt and alternate with a nibble of pecorino.
Bellwether Farms Pepato, a peppercorn-studded sheep’s milk cheese from California’s Sonoma County, is magical with favas. Inspired by Italian pepato, Bellwether’s rendition is moister, less salty and less acidic—just as cheese maker Liam Callahan intended. Following Italian tradition, Callahan uses raw milk and animal rennet—increasingly rare choices here and in Italy. Animal rennet is expensive and a vegetarian turn-off, but Callahan is convinced it improves the outcome. He also stopped waxing the wheels a few years ago, so the cheese develops more concentrated flavor.
Released at about four months, Pepato has a firm, crumbly, butter-colored interior. Personally, I don’t eat the peppercorns, but I love the floral aroma they contribute. Pepato has a subtle fruitiness and a tangy, sour-cream finish—an appealing contrast to sweet favas. I also enjoy it shaved in a salad with butter lettuce and fava beans.
Look for Bellwether Pepato at Rainbow Grocery, Cheese Plus, Bi-Rite Markets and Cowgirl Creamery in San Francisco; Oliver’s Markets in Santa Rosa; Big John’s in Healdsburg, Oakville Grocery; Whole Foods Sonoma; and Pasta Shop in Oakland and Berkeley. Pour a lean, minerally white wine—I’m loving the 2013 Massone Gavi—and use a good olive oil. Now is the last hurrah for fresh fava beans so seize the moment.
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Miracle Cheese
After teaching a class on Spanish cheeses last fall, I had a hefty leftover: several pounds of excess Mahón. Muchas gracias, Spanish Trade Office. For the past several months, I have been slicing off wedges of this aged cow’s milk cheese to share with guests. Each time I take the package out of the fridge, I’m sure that I’m going to unwrap a moldy or slimy or dried-out chunk. Instead, this miracle Mahón refuses to die.
I often advise people not to buy more cheese than they need because a wheel never improves after it is cut. But my Mahón experience reminds me that dry aged cheeses can have awesome longevity—if they’re stored carefully. And I’ll get to that.
Made exclusively on the wind-swept Spanish island of Menorca, Mahón is a cow’s milk cheese from a country better known for goat and sheep cheeses.
Some artisan producers still use raw milk but industrial producers pasteurize. The cheese has an unusual square shape, like a thick cushion, and can weigh anywhere from one to four kilos (2.2 to 8.8 pounds). You can identify an artisan Mahón by the surface wrinkles from the cloth bag it was drained and pressed in. Industrial cheeses are drained in molds, and their thin rind is tinted orange with paprika or annatto.
Mahón isn’t particularly compelling when young, but after six months or more in a cellar, Mahón curado (aged Mahón) becomes a cheese to savor: dense and brittle, with crunchy protein crystals here and there, and a nutty butterscotch or caramel aroma. Serve it before dinner with sparkling wine or fino sherry, such as Bodegas Hidalgo La Gitana, and some warmed green olives. At the end of a meal, enjoy aged Mahón with dates and toasted walnuts and pour Dios Baco Amontillado.
As for storage, wrap the cheese in waxed paper or coated cheese paper, then tuck it inside a lidded container, preferably alone. Change the wrap every time you take the cheese out, and your Mahón should live long and prosper.