Sunday, 29 March 2015

What not to do in the office canteen: my cautionary tale

I’ve often brought cheese into work for lunch to eat with a bagel, usually a few harmless chunks of Cheddar or perhaps some mild goat’s, which I’ll microwave into a soft gooey sandwich. Most of the time, this method works a treat.

As I alluded to in my previous post however, it's really important to pick your cheese wisely; I seem to have become immune to the stronger-smelling varieties and forget that, to other people, they absolutely reek. Here’s what happened on my second day in a new job.

I brought the lovely St. Nectaire into work mistakenly thinking it would be suitable for lunchtime zapping. After a customary 60 seconds, I noticed that there was indeed a powerful odour. The bagel had also transformed into a plasticy, barely-edible lump. Yuck. I was rather vexed by this unappetising result.

I sat with some people I’d just met and immediately the person to my right looked around and exclaimed, “Oh my god, what is that TERRIBLE SMELL?” Soon, everyone who sat down with me rapidly noticed the offensive pong; the unfolding situation reminded me of the sex panther scene in Anchorman (one of my all-time favourite films).

I forgot about this small faux pas until returning to my desk to hear someone just a few feet away in the middle of an indignant rant about how her soup was ruined by a girl and her microwaved bagel. She was quite literally cheesed off! Apparently a member of staff had been rooting through the bins to find the cause of the stench.

I later learned that the entire canteen reeked of my hapless St. Nectaire; someone said they thought it was dog food, while another claimed he suffered seasonal affective smell disorder the next day. Honestly, some people have no nose for a fine cheese.

If I’ve learnt anything from this stink-melt-melodrama, it’s that you shouldn’t ruin a distinguished cheese in the microwave at work. Stick to the milder specimens. On the plus side, I certainly made an impression. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but at least I’ll be remembered!

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Three alpine cheeses

The very least someone can do when they jet off skiing is to bring back some fine mountain cheese. As well as hosting excellent, powdery snow, the Savoie region of south-east France produces exquisitely pongy cheese. Luckily for me, Stuart brought back several samples from his trip last month.

My eye was immediately drawn to Tomme au Marc: encased by a thick coating of dried grapes, it looks a lot like a giant, glistening oreo. It also has a formidable scent, due to being matured under a layer of grape Marc — grape pressings residue — for at least a month. To me, it had an overpowering taste of wine, which I found too bitter to enjoy. 

Tomme au Marc

Next up, the milder Beret Savoyard, which, according to Stuart, smelt like an unwashed belly button. I don’t seem to have a photo of this one; I promise I’m not making it up though. Despite its funky odour, we didn’t have any problems finishing Beret, and it went down a treat with some spicy fruit chutney.

A mountain of cheese in Tignes, French Alps

Then there was St. Nectaire. This semi-soft, washed rind cheese originates from a different French region west of Savoie in Auvergne, and its production is protected by the AOC seal. Matured for up to two months on rye straw mats, this mild-tasting cheese is covered in a chalky mould. It has an 
earthy taste, likely due to the rich diet of the large Salers cows.

St. Nectaire

If I had to choose a favourite Alpine cheese, it would be St. Nectaire. Mild, soft and gloopy, it is comforting and distinctive. If you happen to be skiing in France in future, I urge you to try it. Just don’t take it to work. Stay tuned for my next post!