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!