Saxelby Cheese

British Brews, American Cheese, and Lady Mongers

Ah, the first tell tale days of spring in New York have arrived. Days when people throw open their windows, get the ghetto blasters cranked up good, and pour out into the streets to shed some layers and soak up some vitamin D. It's been a fun couple of days, and it shows no signs of stopping as we get into warmer weather, more tastings, and more trouble on the Heritage Radio Network. Yesterday on Cutting the Curd, I was joined by not one, not two, but four awesome lady cheesemongers from three cities on both coasts! We got into why we all fell into such a weird and cheesy profession, and shared some of our favorite (and most bizarre) stories from behind the cheese counter. Formaggio Essex was in the house with Ayse Gurdal and Brooke Little, Formaggio Kitchen from Boston was represented by Erin Tevlin, and Katrina Vahedi of Berkeley's Pasta Shop threw in her two cents about cheese on the West Coast. It seems like this show will be the first of many because let's face it, 30 minutes is just not enough time to get all those whoppers and tall tales on the air! Aspiring mongers, cheese heads, and just about everyone else will have a bit o' fun listening to this show... Check out the the archives at heritageradionetwork.com

On the tasting front, Saxelby Cheesemongers and Jimmy's no 43 have a deal for you that can't be beat. Next Tuesday night at Jimmy's no 43, we'll be offering a tasting of 3 beers and 3 farmstead cheeses for $10! We'll pair the best the Brits can brew with some fine American farmstead cheeses made in the style of those from the British Isles. Bring a bunch of friends, commandeer a table, and get a round of cheese and some tasty beer. Tag it on as a course after dinner, or just come for the cheese!

Saxelby Cheesemongers and Jimmy's no 43 present:
British Brews and American Cheese
Tuesday, March 16th
7:00 till we're out of cheese!
Three pairings for $10

Call Jimmy's to reserve a table at 212-982-3006.

'Till next week, eat cheese and be merry!

Late Winter Doldrums

This week's entry comes from a contribution I made to the New Amsterdam Public Market blog. Visit newamsterdampublic.org to learn more about this year's upcoming markets, as well as a special Winter Banquet, to be held on Friday, March 12th.



Looking at the invitation, which features a Pieter Brueghel painting of late winter, black bird sitting in a snow-dusted tree, I got to thinking about what this time of year is like on the dairy farm. A time I've referred to in the past as the doldrums.

Now, most of the farms that I work with are in the northeast, so the long hard winter is acutely felt. From upstate New York to Vermont to Maine, late February and early March is a time of nesting, a time of fomenting, when the bottled up pressure of winter cabin fever prepares to give way to the hooting, bleating, birthing insanity of spring. In my mind, that stark black bird is casting a knowing eye over the barn, looking down over the sleepy calm, knowing that springtime, and life are about to erupt within its walls.

Most people aren't aware of it, but cheese making is a seasonal thing. It is part of the economics of nature. At the crux of that economic system is the sun. Making milk is hard work for an animal. Just like us humans, calcium and other nutrients are leached from the mother's body to fortify the milk. Why would mother nature, in all her infinite wisdom, ask that a cow, goat, or sheep, try to make milk when there's nothing for them to eat in the pasture outside? She does no such thing. Instead, she bides her time, waits, incubates. All those swollen bellies side by side in the barn, chewing their cud, eating dry hay and grain, resting up for the big event.

Spring is a time of rebirth. Of kid goats, of calves, of lambs. The quiet winter barn quickly transforms into a non-stop, 24 hour a day nursery, full of fragile, then sturdy, beautiful, and extremely vocal newborns. The first flush of milk comes just as winter ebbs away, as the green shoots of grass poke their way up out of the earth again. The tide of new life stumbles collectively out into the sunshine, ambling namby pamby over fields and rocks, kicking and playing and eating and drinking. Milk.

We have to be patient. When the young are weaned, then the milk can be collected to make cheese. There is nothing sweeter or more refreshing than the first taste of a light, fresh goats' milk cheese after a winter's worth of dense, heavy cheeses that are fit for the fondue pot. We are what we eat. For the cheese lover right now, that means mostly dense, aged cheese of varying degrees of pungency. But there is that light at the end of the tunnel. I saw it today in Brooklyn out over the harbor. A more lingering sunset, full of warm purple and stark yellow. A promise of longer days, more sunshine, and green grass in the pasture. Perhaps a little bit like what the black bird saw on that winter day way back when.

Till next week, eat cheese and be merry!

Culture and a Bit O' Brogue

Though the cheeses at Saxelby's be confined to the good old US of A, we can't deny that the inspiration for these fermented dairy treasures comes from locales both nearby and far flung. This week's missive is devoted to the salty, foggy, verdant British Isles, where mountains, sheep, and literature all converge on the subject of cheese. How all this has wended its way behind the cheese counter of the Essex Market is an improbable whopper, but we're bent on tracing it back all the same.

We'd like to begin by paying homage to one of our favorite cheeses, Ben Nevis. Made by Neil Urie, a Vermont cheese maker of Scottish descent, this cheese takes its name from the highest peak in the British Isles. Literally translated, Ben Nevis means something to effect of 'a mountain with its head in the clouds' as most days the peak is surrounded by mist and fog. This shepherd could be said to have his head in the clouds; he's one of the only people milking sheep in his native Northeast Kingdom. But as far as these mongers can tell, this little peaked sheeps' milk tomme is one of the finest ovine cheeses in the country. Stop by the shop for a nibble in the next week before it bids us a fond farewell for the season! Mention this message for a 10% discount.

Now, we all know that cheese and culture are inextricably linked. We've just taken the liberty of pushing it a bit farther than usual this week. A quick hop skip and a jump from the peak of Ben Nevis lands us in Ireland, home to many a venerable cheese, and to one of the twentieth century's greatest writers and cheese enthusiasts. It may have been that James Joyce himself loved cheese, or it may have solely been the purview of his leading man, Leopold Bloom... Either way, cheese plays an un-ignorable role in the pages of Ulysses.

Yesterday on Cutting the Curd, Saxelby's weekly dairy dispatch on the Heritage Radio Network, I interviewed actor and playwright Patrick Fitzgerald, who graced the airwaves with his Irish brogue and spoke of all things cheesy that took place on Bloomsday. A true Joyce devotee, Fitzgerald managed to distill nearly all the cheese from the epic tome down to a few delicious snippets for our show. Tune in to hear an old fashioned half hour of radio... just like the serials from the days of yore, but with more talk of Dublin, cheese, and what's for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Till next week, eat cheese and be merry!