Wine & Cheese #2

In the pursuit of any great artistic or artisanal creation, there must be healthy debate. Not only do differing opinions and criticism keep good artists and artisans sharp and thinking about their next creation, it also helps the consumers of those creations make educated decisions about what they might prefer. If you are reading this newsletter in the first place, you probably think about your food and wine already, so consider this issue of the newsletter one more thing to chew on.

The debate over pasteurization is an interesting one, and has good arguments on both sides. Pasteurized milk must be heated to a relatively high temperature - between 145 and 160º - for varying amounts of time. This process destroys some harmful bacteria and leads to longer shelf-life of the milk. At the same time, the heat also breaks down certain flavor-producing enzymes, so cheese made from this milk has less potential for developing the subtleties and nuances of flavor and aroma of its raw milk counterparts. In the U.S., cheeses made from raw milk (like Roquefort, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and two of our offerings this month) must be aged at least 60 days before being sold. The idea behind this mandatory aging is for the cheese to lose sufficient moisture and have high enough salt content to inhibit harmful bacterial growth. Younger soft-ripened raw milk cheeses like Camembert are still made and consumed in Europe, where we haven’t seen any mass extinction of cheese eaters, but the merits of these laws is a discussion for another day.

This is not to say that cheese made from pasteurized milk can’t be good. On the contrary, there are many examples of these outstanding cheeses, two of which we’ll introduce in this month’s newsletter. If a skilled cheesemaker uses high quality milk (pasteurized or not), great things can happen.

Raw milk cheeses do have some inherent advantages. In addition to retaining an array of bacteria and enzymes, they also hold untouched some off those compounds that come from the animal’s food. In other words, if the cow whose milk made a particular cheese happens to have feasted on grasses and flowers, suggestions of those grassy and floral aromas and flavors will often show up if the cheese is well made.

With all this in mind, I couldn’t help thinking about the connection between the wine- and cheese-making processes. As I mentioned in last month’s newsletter, both are deceptively simple. That is, they each produce marvelously interesting and complex results from relatively mundane raw ingredients. Yet it is the handling and combinations of those ingredients that can work such wonders. The culturing process in cheese employs a specific bacteria whose job it is to produce lactic acid, acidifying the milk in anticipation of the addition of rennet, which separates the milk into curds and whey. In the winemaking process, similar bacteria are used to convert the overtly tart malic acid into the softer lactic acid in a process called malolactic fermentation.

Much like the questions over raw milk, there also exists considerable debate among winemakers over the issue of filtration. Just as pasteurization can remove some desirable elements from the milk, so can excessive filtering sometimes strip a multidimensional and unique wine of its character. And just as with cheese, there is nothing to say that a winemaker who chooses to filter a wine can’t put something great in the bottle nonetheless. But many wine lovers would agree that regardless of the wine, its ultimate character and especially the expression of where it comes from are best preserved by bottling it unfiltered.

So, you may be asking yourself, what about this month’s cheeses? As promised, this month we found some interesting and beautiful selections, different enough to warrant your attention, but not so wild and stinky that you won’t want to open your refrigerator! In order to explore the attributes of both styles, we are featuring one pasteurized and one raw milk cheese each from both North America and Europe. The wines mentioned here are intended to pair with the featured cheeses quite well, but like I always say, as long as you like the cheese and the wine on their own, chances are you’ll be happy eating the two together.

To North America first! Fog Lights is a beautiful pasteurized goat milk cheese from California, mild and bright, with the distinctive tangy creaminess that I love in good goat cheese. There is a slight earthiness weaving through the tang that keeps the flavors mellow, and the texture reminds me of a slightly drier version of a great fresh chèvre. To accompany this cheese, a touch of richness and fruit in your wine wouldn’t hurt a bit. Take for example an Alsatian Pinot Gris, full and fat and gleaming with glassy fruits and minerals, balanced by an acidity that keeps its considerable size in check. The tang of the cheese and the fullness of the wine would balance each other beautifully. Dry rosé also comes to mind, especially because the Fog Lights tastes so fresh and bright it makes me want to have it for dinner with nothing else but a baguette and a cool, crisp glass of pink wine.

Moving a bit northward we find the Filou, a raw milk goat cheese from Quebec. This cheese has been patiently aging a while, to a point where is once runny interior has firmed up a bit and its flavors have evolved from young and tangy to a deeper grassy earthiness, with just a touch of stinkiness starting to creep in. This would be delicious with a southern French white, based on Viognier, Marsanne or Rousanne. These whites tend to be full bodied and floral. They are fruity to be sure, but with sufficient acidity to keep them refreshingly dry.

From Europe we have a pair of cheeses, once again pitting pasteurized against raw milk. Rocchetta, a fresh Robiola-styled pasteurized milk cheese from Piedmont in northern Italy, is made from a blend of cow, sheep, and goat milk. This cheese combines the best aspects of all three milks, lending a sense of sturdiness from the cow, a fresh bite from the goat, and a salty, satisfying creaminess from the sheep. Its texture is airy, and yet surrounding every bit of lightness is a sense of creamy richness that is almost indescribable. No doubt this cheese would be made with raw milk if you bought it in Italy, but as I mentioned before, its youth precludes that possibility here in the States. I have wonderful memories of sitting behind a 12^th century farmhouse, looking out toward the sunset-lit silhouette of the city of Orvieto, eating a strikingly similar cheese and drinking a glass of fresh, crisp Grecchetto. This wine, along with its cousin Orvieto Classico (or any other finely-tuned, light, dry Italian white – perhaps Vernaccia?) would be a perfect match to this cheese.

The first time I tasted our final cheese, I assumed we had stayed in Italy. The sepia-tinged color, the nutty, gently sharp flavors, the crumbly, flaky, fine-grained texture, all spoke clearly of fine Parmigiano-Reggiano. I was shocked to learn that in fact my adoration was leveled at a 4 Year-Aged Dutch Farmhouse Gouda. One taste of this raw milk cow cheese (not to mention one look!) will immediately change the way you think about this once mundane cheese. What to drink with this beauty? Try a medium-bodied Italian Sangiovese or Barbera, full of ripe red fruit to play with the sharpness of the Gouda, and with enough crackling acidity to balance the oily richness of the cheese. Beer would not be out of the question here at all – think of a weight, golden brown German Doppelbock that deftly balances its malty, nutty sweetness with a refreshing dose of gently bitter hops.

Now that we’ve introduced a few exciting and unique cheeses, some made from pasteurized milk and some raw, you can feel free to dive right into the debate. The great thing is, either side you choose you’re guaranteed delicious cheese!

©2008 Alex Meier-Tomkins

Meatloaf is So Tasty

Yes, that's right, meatloaf. I remember years ago when I would cringe every time my dad told us it was meatloaf night. I'm not sure why I detested it so. I wasn't a particularly picky eater, but perhaps the ground turkey texture just threw me off.

So for the last few weeks I've been thinking about a new approach, something that would be heartier, tangier, and, well, meatier. Beef would have to enter the picture, as would some sort of moistener. And throwing some bacon on top wouldn't hurt a bit. I read through a ton of recipes. Some seemed overly involved, some too basic, but the theme I kept running up against was a sauce spread across the top and mixed into the meat that was just too sweet. I have nothing against ketchup, but I also can't take it in 1/2 cup portions! So I tinkered with some sauce and relish recipes and came up with one that is quite tasty, keeps everything nice and moist, and expertly straddles that fine line between sweet and savory.

As for the meat, keeping it simple is good. I realize that veal is a traditional partner to the beef and pork, but I always have a hard time finding it at the store, unless it's pre-ground with its partners, and I just don't go for that sort of thing. I have no doubt that if you use one of those prepared meat mixtures you'll be just fine, but I opt for beef and pork only. The bread you use in the mixture is up to you - white bread is the norm, though I never find that on my kitchen counter. I used a few slices of a loaf I made from the fabulous Mark Bittman recipe in the New York Time Dining section.

To accompany our loaf, a simple bowl of roasted broccoli, mushrooms, and carrots, all sprinkled with some Parmigiano and olive oil, and a bowl of rich, cream-infused mashed potatoes with scallions. Not the most heart-healthy dinner, but the red wine that we drank with it may have offset the damage somewhat. A 1992 Ravenswood Gregory Vineyard Cabernet (courtesy of Robert Jordan) was the perfect partner. I realize that early 90's Cab isn't going to grace everyone's table, but pick something nice and big, with sufficient tannin and acidity to brace the heft of the meat, and you'll be just fine. As for the Ravenswood, to look at it in the glass, it would be impossible to peg this as 16 year-old wine. Still almost purple-black, with the most gorgeous nose of deep, bleeding cassis and herbs. The fruit was just beautiful. Perhaps to pinch us back into reality, the tannins showed their age in the mouth, just barely creeping in around the edges, while ripe acidity keep all that fruit in check. Awesomely long finish, and perfect with the loaf.

Balsamic Tomato Relish

1 onion, finely minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 red bell pepper, finely minced
2 plum tomatoes, cored and minced
1 bay leaf
1.5 cups ketchup
1/2 cup Dijon mustard
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon soy sauce
salt and freshly ground pepper

Meatloaf mixture

1 pound ground beef
1 pound ground pork
2 or 3 slices good bread, crusts removed
1/4 cup whole milk or half & half
1 cup cooled Balsamic relish
salt and pepper
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, chopped
4 slices of bacon

Make the relish: In a medium saucepan, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat and add the onion, garlic, and bay leaf. Cook until fragrant and translucent, then add the bell pepper and cook for 1-2 minutes until softened. Add the tomato, stir to combine, then add the ketchup, mustard, vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, and salt and pepper to taste. Reduce the heat to low and let it bubble slowly for 5-10 minutes, until thickened. Taste for salt, then let cool.

Make the meatloaf: In a small bowl, crumble the bread into small pieces with your hands and pour over the milk. Let that sit for a minute or so, then squeeze out the bread to remove excess milk. In a large bowl, mash together with your fingers the meat, eggs, bread, relish, thyme, and salt and pepper. I usually use about 1 teaspoon of kosher salt and ten or fifteen grinds of black pepper (since there's already salt and pepper in the relish), but if you would like to check for seasoning, just fry up a little pinch of the mixture in a pan with some olive oil and taste.

Heat your oven to 350 degrees. Form a loaf on a lightly oiled baking sheet, spread about 1/2 cup of the relish over the loaf, and then lay the bacon slices across the loaf lengthwise. Bake for about an hour and a half, or until the bacon looks cooked and crisped. The internal temperature will be around 160 degrees. Remove from the oven and let the loaf rest for about 5 minutes before slicing and serving. Serve any remaining relish on the side, or if you're like Janina, a good dollop of ketchup will be all the extra sauce you'll need.

Comfortably serves 6-8