Dennis, the god of wine

I’ve already gushed about how cheese and wine make great friends; even better, then, is learning how to appreciate good wine while you’re glugging it down with specially-chosen cheese.

This is exactly what I did, thanks to another Time Out offer.

Dionysius Importers are named after the Greek god of wine, Dionysus. Or, as I like to call him — Dennis. Italian wine specialists, they select vineyards based on their quality, resulting in a highly respectable selection. 

My friend Matt accompanied me on this cheese and wine odyssey, which took place in an unassuming hotel basement in Paddington where long tables were laid out in the style of children's birthday parties. Handily, we all knew where to sit as Dionysius had printed our names on the table mats.

Inspecting the seating

Our authentic Italian hosts then proceeded to show us how to drink wine. Properly that is. We were instructed to hold the red wine against a white napkin; if the edge of the wine was as dark as the middle and the same colour throughout the glass, then it’s full-bodied.

We were also told to slosh the wine around the glass before sticking our noses in for a whiff. Next, to sip and hold it in our mouths underneath the tongue, while opening and closing aforementioned mouth to let in some air. Talk about multi-tasking! We all giggled as our host waggled his finger to demonstrate.

I was also surprised to learn that if you can still taste the wine eight seconds after swallowing, then it’s a good ‘un.

All of this happened, naturally, in conjunction with cheese nibbling. Five wines, five complementary cheeses. As the names of these cheeses were long and Italian, alas my untrained English ears didn't catch all of them. 

Wine friends: assorted Italian cheeses

For me, the highlight was Bra Tenero, cut into cubes; this reminded me of an upmarket Cheese String with its elastic texture, delizioso! 

Bra Tenero

Another highlight was a smokey number — the circular cheese in the picture just below the Bra Tenero. Soft and chewy, Matt said it tasted like the moon, which I like to think it did, albeit with a hint of Pepperoni.

Finally, we were given another serving of our favourite wine of the night. My personal favourite was Malvasia Secca, a sparkling, soft-flavoured white wine we tried at the beginning of the tasting; apparently an excellent choice for cold meat starters.

Perhaps you already know how to drink wine, in which case I'm very happy for you. Nonetheless, I’d like to raise a toast to Dionysius Importers, who do a fine job introducing guests to high-quality Italian cheese and first-rate wine. Chin chin!

Dining at The Dorchester

Although this blog is mainly a platform for me to wax lyrical about cheese, I will occasionally expand into other taste territories. Last month, I was lucky enough to be whisked off to Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester for my birthday, and I feel it was too exceptional an experience not to share. Plus, there were several cheesy moments.

From the moment we entered the lavish dining room at this world-famous hotel, we were treated like royalty. Every glass was topped up, every crumb wiped discreetly away and tablecloth stains (I'm an enthusiastic eater, ok?) disappeared under a spotless napkin. They even move the table so you don’t have to squeeze into your seat. And after the rich, luxury meal we consumed, it really was a squeeze. 

All of this top-notch service served to prelude the other fine aspect of our visit: the food. 

We opted for the lunch menu, a simple three-course affair perhaps? Mais non! Seven courses more like, what with pre-course nibbles thrown into the mix. Some of the highlights included:

1) Gougères — these light-as-air choux pastry cheesy balls were one of the pre-starter dishes. They are insanely moreish. We dipped them, piping hot, in garlicky butter. Gorgeous! 

2) Duck egg and lamb on a cabbage medley. This was cold and a strange concoction of textures. In a good way.

3) Coconut and passionfruit sorbet. I don’t usually like coconut, but this was more than acceptable.

4) Chocolate surprise. This is everything you hope and dream a chocolate dessert can be: rich, sweet and gooey topped with crunchy biscuit and crumbly brownie. Heaven.

Candle optional

5) Four French cheeses matched with individual fruit chutneys. We savoured goat’s cheese, Camembert, Comté and Roquefort along with fig and walnut bread AND crackers.

6) Four types of mint tea. I had no idea there was so much choice in the herb world. Our good waiter proceeded to pestle and mortar my chosen leaves at the table before placing in a transparent teapot.

Not only was the food exquisite and seemingly endless, with three Michelin stars — the only U.K. hotel restaurant to achieve this status — Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester undoubtedly shines brighter than most due to its stellar service.

If you’re not a fan of starched tablecloths and devoted staff, then clearly this place ain't for you. Tout de même, I feel that once in a while it’s fun to be posh.

Blonde bombshell

On my birthday last month, Stuart dropped a bombshell: a striking, compact, perfect sphere of cheese to be precise.

JJ Sandham's 'Lancashire Bomb'

Peel back the dramatic exterior and you’ll discover a soft, creamy beauty protected by white gauze.

A little like Babybel in flavour, this is probably the fluffiest cheese I’ve eaten and is dangerously scrumptious, so much so that I grabbed a spoon and devoured it like a pudding. ‘Lancashire Bomb’ also melts perfectly on toast; just be careful you watch it like a hawk under the grill, as it softens in seconds.

I seem to fall for cheese from Lancashire. Perhaps because it’s the only county to produce three styles: Lancashire Creamy, Lancashire Tasty and Lancashire Crumbly. Or maybe it’s the area’s successful history of making excellent cheese; at its peak in the 1900s, Lancashire produced a staggering 4,800 tonnes each year. 

With a slick yet traditional operation going strong since 1929, JJ Sandham sources local milk within 15 miles of the dairy, makes all its cheeses by hand and produces six different types, including traditional, goat and sheep, sweet and savoury. 

I look forward to sampling the rest of JJ Sandham’s cheeses. Lancashire, you’re da bomb.

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!

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!

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Aside from reasonably priced furniture, when one thinks of Ikea, one tends to envisage Swedish meatballs and cranberry sauce, mmm, want some now! (at least I do). Little did I know that they also produce some rather lovely cheese.

Cheese from Ikea: Ost Herrgard

Meet Ost Herrgard—a smooth, buttery and nutty number with more than a little resemblance to Leerdammer. Mild yet delicious, you could easily scoff slices of this on its own. My family and I decided to eat the French way and pair this Swedish delight with some fresh seeded bread. And I might add that this was after a hefty meal.




Still, I would say we were simply paying fromage, I mean homage, to French turophile Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, who once declared: “Dessert without cheese is like a beauty with only one eye.” I don’t know of any similar nuggets of cheese wisdom from a Swede (person not vegetable), but I do like the Swedish proverb: “Wisdom is in the head and not in the beard.” Who knew?

Taleggio, Feta and the mad apple

I’m not sure exactly when my love for aubergines (or eggplants) began. It was most likely years ago during holidays in the Middle East, where aubergine dishes like baba ghanoush are as prevalent as sunburn (I speak for myself). Unlike my skin though, cooked aubergines result in sublime deliciousness.

The eggplant didn’t enchant everyone when it first burst onto the European scene in the mid-16th century. Related to the attractive but deadly nightshade family, including poisonous Jimson Weed and Belladonna, first impressions of the aubergine were fearful; thought to induce insanity, they were nicknamed mad apples.

Luckily, prejudice against aubergines slowly disappeared. And at some point, cheese got involved, which is where the magic really starts. To prove this, I followed a reliable recipe for Aubergine Parmigiana, which combines grated Taleggio and Parmesan with a tomato, pepper sauce and, of course, several aubergines. I recommend making/eating this dish if you seek intense feelings of elation and joy.

The makings of Aubergine Parmigiana

Aubergine Parmigiana

What a party in the mouth: Salty, slightly sweet sauce, cheese melted to perfection, fleshy aubergine and peppers, yum yum yum! Sweet, rich fig and red wine sourdough bread made a perfect accompaniment, serving as a sort of doughy spoon for the Parmigiana. Stuart’s verdict was “this is pretty good.” Uhhhm, understatement!

After this initial aubergine success, I made Ottolenghi’s roasted aubergine with fried onion and chopped lemon from his superb Jerusalem cookbook. Can you tell I’m fond of Middle Eastern cuisine? I served this for lunch as a side dish, and although I burnt the onion, my guests assured me the aubergines were tangy and tasty, offset by slightly melted chunks of salty Feta.

Roasted aubergine with fried onion and chopped lemon

I’ll continue to indulge my aubergine and cheese infatuation, and I urge you to try it; you’d be mad not to enjoy this perfect pairing.

Keeping it raw

Strolling through Covent Garden has its benefits—namely Neal’s Yard Dairy.

Although we were engaged in post-Christmas bargain hunting, it seemed wrong not to pop into this long-respected cheese establishment. It was on the way after all.

The shop is compact and the staff are welcoming. We were dutifully offered several samples without any prompting, and eventually selected Kirkham Lancashire for an honorary place in our fridge (and stomachs).

This creamy, unpasteurised cheese is made by the dedicated Kirkhams of Beesley Farm—the last unpasteurised cheesemakers from Lancashire.

Indeed, the Kirkhams are determined to keep their cheese raw. And, by staying a relatively small business, they can do just that, controlling the process from start to finish to achieve the best flavour possible.

In the video below, Graham Kirkham explains that it’s not about being the biggest producer, it’s about the results: “We want the best flavours.” He also reveals that part of their traditional process involves putting butter on the outside of the cheese. The result is an irresistably creamy taste, while the texture is smooth and moderately firm.

The helpful staff member at Neal’s Yard advised that Kirkham Lancashire goes excellently with a slice of Christmas cake. Perhaps it goes well with other types of cake too. Only one way to find out!

10 fabulous cheese plates on Pinterest

With the holiday season well and truly upon us, it’s high time to consider what cheese you’ll be offering/scoffing (that is if you haven’t already).

I’m a big fan of Pinterest for ideas, be it for mouth-watering dishes or style titbits, so I’ve picked some of my favourite cheese boards pinned on the site; perhaps they’ll inspire you in time for Christmas or your next soirée.

Found on Joannagoddard.blogspot.com
Via Missykay

This pin originates from Joanna Goddard’s cheese-friendly food and lifestyle blog. She’s selected six cheeses for the perfect cheese plate, a well chosen arrangement of soft, blue and hard cheeses.

Found on sbs.com.au

I like the quirky cut-out style of these graphics. A winning cheese board pin: simple and informative.

Found on roughluxeperspective.blogspot.com
Via Thistle Coltsfoot

More traditional, this lush, wholesome board was pinned from another lifestyle blog, Rough Luxe Lifestyle. I love its autumnal harvest look, with an inviting display of figs, dried apricots, nuts and range of exotic cheeses.

Found on domeafavorblog.com
Via Lindsey McKitterick

This is a textbook cheese board pin. Clear images and concise, arrowed labels. What more could you ask from a cheese platter guide?

Found on stylemepretty.com

In contrast to the others, Jessica Sloane’s clean, neatly arranged cheese board separates each element: cheese on a round board, olives, nuts and chutney on a stripy serviette and fresh fruit loaf with assorted crackers on a separate board.

Found on cali-zona.com

Poking out from the mounds of cheese and crackers, I love how the sprigs of rosemary point, like fingers, towards the colourful condiments. Thumbs up from me.

Found on mildredmildred.tumblr.com
Via Elizabeth Langston

Never mind that this pin was found on a tumblr called mildredmildred (brilliant name), this vivid photo leaps off the screen with its voluptuous jam, ripe figs, speckled cheese, crunchy hazelnuts and gorgeous plums. You can almost taste each ingredient.

Found on designmom.com

This minimalist cheese board is carefully stocked with Mediterranean delights from Italy, Spain and Greece. The author, Lindsey Johnson, coins a handy phrase for choosing the right cheese: Something old, something new, something goat, something blue.

Found on thepartydress.net
Via Wine Gifts

Round as a full moon, this symmetrically pleasing board aptly features a goat’s cheese called Midnight Moon. I’m taken with the subtle yet confident font labelling each item, plus the rich red board contrasts beautifully with the yellow Cheddar, purple grapes, pale Gouda and caramel-coloured fig chips.

Found on buzzfeed.com

This pin proves that Buzzfeed can be useful as well as funny. The image instantly conveys the different flavours you ought to buy. And when you click through, you’ll find the reasoning behind each choice, what to look for, as well as inexpensive supermarket brands to try.

Taste of London Winter 2014

Mid-late November. TimeOut had sent an unexpected email: You have won tickets to the Taste of London Winter. Awesome! With just a few days’ notice, my first challenge was to find a suitable foodie partner in crime. Luckily, Juliet stepped up, so off we trotted eastwards to Tobacco Dock.

I’d never been to a large-scale food festival before, and our expectations were high. The website promised “the world’s greatest restaurant festival.” There would be famous chefs, including Michel Roux Jr, Monica Galetti and Raymond Blanc. Cocktail masterclasses. Taste Theatres. A bandstand. 

Friday came, the night our tastebuds had been waiting for. We arrived at the cavernous, festively decorated Victorian venue and, having deliberately refrained from eating much beforehand, immediately dived into the hot food samples. 

The venue - Tobacco Dock

Festive fairy lights

The evening continued in this walk and grab vein; we gobbled food and booze galore. I sipped a few glasses of Prosecco, Juliet savoured red wine. We tried fresh spinach juice—a tad too healthy; dairy-free oat milk—surprisingly milky; the world’s most expensive ham (pata negra)—yum. I entered a competition to win a holiday to Malaysia—didn’t win. 

Unusual menu options

There were cheese-making kits, hampers, chutneys. And, most importantly, an array of delicious cheese samples. 

Two cows on a Comté

My favourite cheese brand of the night was the Snowdonia Cheese Company Ltd. They were one of the most popular stalls, and after joining the scrum, I could appreciate why. About six different Cheddars were available for tasting; each morsel was creamy and rich and moreish. Having since checked their website, I’m not surprised that all 10 of their cheeses have won at least one award. 

We weren’t organised enough to book a place at any of the chef demonstrations, but it didn’t matter. We had a thoroughly decent time, knocking back alcohol and cheese like no-one’s business. If you ask me, a great way to spend a Friday night.

Of course, free samples weren’t enough for my stomach, so I ended the evening by polishing off a hearty chicken stew, followed by some delectable pumpkin doughnuts from trendy Peruvian restaurant Andina. Scrumptious. I hadn’t thought much of the food in Peru when I visited earlier this year, but after that triumph of a meal, I will think again. 

Taste of London will return to London next summer from 17 – 21 June in Regent’s Park. Hopefully I’ll win tickets to that too! 

Drunken cheese

Thought that only humans, and the odd wild animal, could get sloshed? Not so. I can confirm that certain types of cheese love a tipple too. Following from my previous wine-orientated post, the time is ripe to highlight some wine-soaked cheese.

I've previously mentioned stinky and stupendous Epoisse, which is bathed in brandy—a crucial aspect of its unique flavour. More recently, my pal, and fellow cheese fan, Juliet brought my attention to this fearsome specimen:

Gorgonzola matured in Italian white wine

Of course, I wouldn't eat this—as I’ve already mentioned, blue veined cheese ain’t my thing. If you decide to try it, apparently Gorgonzola goes well with short pasta such as penne, melted into risotto, or used as a pizza topping.

The Gorgonzola may not have been my cup of tea, but it inspired me to seek other inebriated cheeses. Happily, I came across the delightful St. Vernier. Much like Epoisse, it oozes and sticks to the knife. I have no problem with clingy cheese. Even its scalloped wooden packaging was charming; it resembled a large dairy daisy.

St. Vernier

St. Vernier is made in France from the milk of local Montbélliardes cows and its rind is washed with a white wine. Its flavour is delicately fruity and a little funky. I ate it simply with some Jacob’s cream crackers, but I imagine it would taste equally wonderful with a fresh, crusty baguette and a glug of Chablis. 

Wet your whistle

Alcohol is a typical symptom of the holiday season as we accelerate towards yet another year; and while I usually just talk about cheese, it makes sense to tip my hat to its oft-quaffed companion.

Thanks to a Time Out special offer, Stuart and I headed to Pall Mall Fine Wines, which is hidden within the chic Royal Opera Arcade, the oldest shopping arcade in the world. Once you duck into this elegant, quiet passage, it’s easy to forget you are minutes away from the hectic hubbub of Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus.

Pall Mall Fine Wines offer just that: a range of quality wines, from both well established and less common regions, all selected by the knowledgeable and accommodating staff. Not only can you purchase supreme wines there, the shop also offers a buying service so that you can sell your own collections. And, they’ll organise wine tastings for special occasions.

But enough about the wine already. What about the cheese? I’d cycled straight from work across town and my appetite was akin to a starved bear (I recently saw the film Paddington, which is wonderful by the way). So you can surely understand why I basically inhaled (more than my fair share of) our all-Italian Charcuterie & Cheese platter. For a few fleeting seconds though, I appreciated every morsel.

We gorged on Cacio Nero Di Pienza, a moreish crumbly white Pecorino; Pecorino Vinaiolo, matured for two months with a bitter skin; and Asiago, a gorgeous semi hard cheese. The selection of chorizo and salamis were a sumptuous treat too. 

Camillo De Lellis from Molise, Italy was a subtle fruity match for the salty meal.

If you fancy exploring a calm, sophisticated wine cave in a historic shopping arcade you didn’t know existed, Pall Mall Fine Wines is for you. Word of advice: For an optimal tasting experience, I’d recommend not being completely famished before you get there.