The Pairing: Gabietou

by Sophia Stern

When we talk about mountain milk cheese, we often focus on cheesemaking traditions in the Alps. Images of snowy peaks, ski lodges, and fondue made with Gruyère and Emmental come to mind. But only a few hundred miles southwest from the Alpine region are the Pyrenees mountains, marking the boarder between France and Spain. A multitude of incredible cheeses come from the Pyrenees region (including the beloved Ossau-Iraty), but this week we’re featuring a new-to-us stunner from the French mountains, Gabietou. Made with sheep and cow’s milk and expertly aged by Hervé Mons, Gabietou is a semi-firm cheese that literally melts in your mouth and has a thin orange and brown washed rind. We’ve paired this fan-favorite with a stunning Sancerre, which breaks through Gabietou’s richness with notes of citrus, peaches, and slate. 

Gabietou began in 2001, when cheesemaker Gabriel Bachelet, frustrated that he could not find satisfying mixed milk cheeses in his region, created his sheep and cow washed rind wonder. The animals that produce Gabietou’s milk are moved up into the mountains during the summer months. They graze on high-altitude fresh pastures full of unique flowers, herbs, and grasses which are enriched by the summer sun. As the weather starts to turn, the animals are shepherded down the mountainside to lower pastures. Through this process of transhumance, the animals eat diverse nutrients and provide flavorful, rich, nutrient-dense milk excellent for cheesemaking. Once the sheep and cow’s milk is curdled and pressed into molds, the wheels of young Gabietou are washed daily in a water and rock salt solution. The rock salt used in the brine is acquired from a nearby village’s natural springs. From the inside out, Gabietou tastes of the land it comes from. 

 To break through the rich texture of Gabietou’s paste, we’ve paired this ever-so-slightly funky cheese with a fruity and mineral Sancerre from Domaine Phillipe Girard. Along the Loire River, Phillipe Girard’s estate has been making wine since the French Revolution, but only for close family and friends. It wasn’t until the 1960s that Maurice Girard begin bottling and selling their Sancerre to the public with great success. Made from 100% Sauvignon blanc, Philippe Girard Sancerre grows in clay and limestone heavy soils, giving the wine notes of minerality. Other notes of white flowers and peaches balance the wine. Philippe Girard Sancerre works well with Gabietou’s sweet, butter, and almond flavors and tames down the slight animal note that comes from the washed rind. This pairing is a lovely example of two distinct culinary traditions, and together they are balanced and delicious. 

The Pairing: Cremont

Small and mighty is the theme of this week’s pairing, from the cheese itself to the state it comes from. Though tiny, Vermont is one of the prime locations for cheesemaking in the US. With bountiful forests and excellent soil, dairy farming has flourished and created some of the best domestic cheeses in the country. This week, we’re focusing on our first mixed-milk cheese, Cremont from Vermont Creamery. Sweet cow’s milk and cream mixed with herbaceous, tangy goat milk creates the decadent, dynamic soft cheese of our dreams. For the wine, we’ve chosen a fruity Beaujolais-Villages with enough body to hold up to the density of this Vermont gem.

Although Vermont is now well-known for its local, artisan cheese scene, Vermont Creamery was one of the first to champion Vermont cheese. The creamery began as a collaboration between Allison Hooper, a Vermont cheesemaker who learned the trade in France, and Bob Reese, who worked for Vermont’s Department of Agriculture. Allison was one of the few Vermont cheesemakers Bob could find to supply fresh goat cheese back in the early ‘80s. Together, they started a 60 goat dairy farm. This goat dairy became Vermont Creamery, growing from 5 to 25 to over 100 employees. They were the first to sell American made Mascarpone and American made European-style butter. Today, they get their cow’s milk from the century old St. Albans Cooperative Creamery, which includes over 350 family farm members who produce milk at the highest standard. As is pretty common for high-distribution creameries, Vermont Creamery no longer hosts their own goat herd, but receives high quality goat milk from twenty farms across New England and up into Canada. 

Modeled on the soft cheese traditions Allison learned in France, Cremont is a delightful dive into cow and goat mixed-milk cheese. The cow’s milk provides sweetness that mellows out the tart and tangy goat’s milk, tampering any gamey notes that often pop up in 100% goat cheeses. The hint of cow cream creates a luxurious, smooth texture that starts fluffy and melts in your mouth as you eat it. Only aged for 15 days, this cheese is fresh and bright and deeply satisfying. Because Vermont Creamery uses microbial rennet, all of their cheeses are entirely vegetarian, too.

We’ve picked a 100% gamay grape Beaujolais-Villages to handle this rich and flavorful wheel. In one of the 38 designated villages for Beaujolais-Villages, Domaine de Roche-Guillon is made by the family’s fifth generation winemaker. The wine evokes cherries, earth, and a slight tobacco note. The wine’s acidity and dryness balances out Cremont’s decadent texture and sweet cream flavor. If you’re looking for a comforting pairing that has enough complexity to have you going back for more, this Beaujolais and mixed-milk softie is the way to go.

Softies Highlight

This week, instead of a longer form write-up focusing on a specific cheese or certain producer and in the spirit of our 20% off all softies promotion, I thought it would be fun to do something different. What better way to inspire excitement than to hear from someone who is passionate and excited? Here is a collection of voices from a few of our mongers about what their favorite softies are. Who knows, they might become your new favorite, too.

~ACB

Carol Ann, Alta Langa Robiola Bosina and Alta Langa Cossanella

It's all about the texture with these two. Both of these Italian beauts have a delicate rind with an unctuous, silky texture. Cossanella stands out with its Annatto washed rind. Robiola Bosina is both cow and sheep's milk, giving it a slight depth of flavor. Enjoy with Lambrusco (Piazza Grande $14.99) or a Saison (Saison Dupont $12.49).

Sophia Stern, Capriole Sofia

Capriole's Sofia has always been one of my favorite cheeses. It helps that the cheese and I share a name (sort of), but Sofia is also perfectly tangy and bright and visually stunning with its unique shape, fluffy interior, and clean ash lines running through the center. Definitely enjoy this cheese with a darker rose or sparkling white and try it with the American Spoon Sour Cherry Preserves from the shop! If you want to have a real adventure, pick up a bag of dill pickle potato chips and eat them with little pieces of Sofia on it. I promise it's amazing.

Joe Kastner, Bergamino di Bufala

Bergamino di Bufala is always one of my go-to softies. Think buffalo mozzarella with a rind on it. This lusciously buoyant little pillow of water-buffalo cheese from Northern Italy will be giving your taste buds sweet dreams. Try it on toasted baguette or with a spicy pepper jelly!

Maura Rice, Nettle Meadow Kunik

I think of Kunik as the Mt. Tam of the East Coast; it’s a tried-and-true American classic, having been made for over two decades at the Warrensburg creamery. It’s advertised as a triple cream, and it’s certainly buttery and deliciously rich, but Kunik is actually mostly goat’s milk, which gives it a lovely tang. The best part, for me, is that Nettle Meadow is a longtime sanctuary farm for retired and unwanted animals, so in addition to acquiring some tasty cheese you’re also supporting animal welfare.

Austin Coe Butler, Fromagerie Germain Langres

I love everything about this cheese from its brainy, vermiculate appearance, barnyardy aroma, gooey texture, and chicken-stock savoriness, to its humble origins as a farmhouse cheese and dazzling presentation when served with champagne or a shot of brandy burning blue in the fontaine or depression that caps this cheese. While it is a stinker, it’s easy to love. Langres is superb with a bottle of bubbly and smeared onto plain potato chips for a delightfully gauche and positively post-modern celebration of cheese.

The Pairing: Wilde Weide

by Sophia Stern

If dates, bourbon, and gouda are not a go to trio when looking for a cheese pairing, hopefully now they will be. Together, the three offer a caramelly and decadent experience. Although it’s not uncommon to suggest pairing cheese with stone fruits (think apricots), dates are not the first stone fruit people think of.  At room temperature, Medjool dates become jammy with dark, caramel flavors and tons of sweetness. Similarly, bourbon tends to be sweet and rich, making it a great pairing for aged cheeses that can hold their own against stronger, dark liquors. However, the star of this trio is truly the gouda, Wilde Weide. Savory, slightly sweet and with a great crystalline crunch, Wilde Weide is a staff favorite that appeals to both sweeter palettes and those who prefer a savory edge to their cheese. 

We love to describe the unique circumstances surrounding a cheese’s journey into existence, but Wilde Weide’s journey is a particular joy to talk about, from calling it a “Dutch island cheese” to the singing cheesemaker. It starts, like most cheeses, with the land. Most of the Netherlands rests below sea level. People have engineered ways to reclaim land from the sea with island-like plots of land called ponders. On one of these ponders, in the middle of a lake in the southern Netherlands, Jan, Roos, and their herd of 40 or so cows live, farm, and make Wilde Weide. Because the island is technically seabed, the soil is minerally, salty, and full of sea clay, giving the plants that grow there different nutrients and flavor from the grass on the mainland. The cows graze these pastures and once they’ve eaten all the grass, Jan and Roos herd their Montbéliardes and red Friesians onto a boat so the cows can munch on a different island. Although Jan and Roos make cheese year round, only seven wheels are produced a day and the aging process takes roughly 15 months, making Wilde Weide small-batch and rare. If you want further proof that this cheese is a product of passion and love, Roos regularly makes her way to the cave and sings to her aging wheels of gouda on their wooden shelves. 

To pair with the nutty, buttery, slightly sweet Wilde Weide, we chose Bowman Brothers Virginia Straight Bourbon Whiskey. Bowman Brothers has familiar notes of vanilla, but is also oaky and spice forward, playing well with the savory notes of Wilde Weide. The pairing shines with just a few drops of spring water in the bourbon, but enjoy however you like. Try Bowman Brothers on the rocks, in a cocktail, or simply neat. And if you don’t feel up to a bourbon pairing this week, do yourself a favor and at least get a package of Medjool dates with a wedge of Wilde Weide. You might be surprised to find a new found favorite.

Cheddar

by Austin Coe Butler

It often surprises customers that cheddar cheese is named after a place. The village of Cheddar, in the southwestern county of Somerset, England, did give its name to the cheese, and it is a great place to make Cheddar cheese, not least of all because it sits at the mouth of the sublime Cheddar Gorge, whose limestone composition has disintegrated over millennia to create baffling complexes of caves and crannies—moist, dark, damp places in which to age cheese. What really gets customers though is that cheddar isn’t just a noun–that is, a thing or a place–but a verb, an action.

            To “cheddar” a cheese refers to a specific process cheddar cheeses used to undergo. “Cheddaring” is the stacking and flipping of sheets of curd on top of one another until a desired consistency and acidity are reached. During this time, the curd “knits” together and stretches while the weight of the cheese expels more whey. Once the sheets of curd have  reached the elasticity of, and this is an industry specification, “uncooked chicken breast” they are run through a peg mill that shreds them into rough yet regular fingers, salted, stuffed into hoops or molds, and pressed overnight.

            Just as surprising though is that many cheddars are not cheddared! A cheddar cheese is the most generic of generic terms. In the administrative parlance of the FDA cheddar cheese has a “minimum milkfat content [of] 50 percent by weight of the solids, and [a] maximum moisture content [of] 39 percent by weight.” Yawn! How did cheddar become so generic, so hilariously vague?

            Many of the characteristics we associate with cheddar cheese can be reached by a number of modern methods developed in the interest of industrial production, which is what made it the first factory produced cheese. One such shortcut is “stirred-curd” cheddar, where instead of cheddaring and milling the curd it is stirred continuously by a machine, driving out moisture and raising acidity. This method requires significantly less time than traditional milled-curd cheddar.

            Cheddar is also ubiquitous and phenomenally popular across the world. Like Brie or Camembert, cheddar is made just about everywhere and has developed a life of its own—and a multimillion dollar industry. Americans especially love cheddar, and it was the most consumed cheese in our country’s history from its founding until just a few years ago when mozzarella tore past it on the wheels of all those frozen pizzas we consume. And why shouldn’t we love cheddar?

            American cheesemakers were responsible for many innovations in the production of cheddar cheese. Cheddar and its sibling Cheshire, were the earliest cheeses English colonists made, and their export to the sugarcane plantations in the West Indies were essential to the fledgling economy. American cheesemakers contending with the hotter, more humid summers of the Eastern seaboard, which easily cracked and festered their precious cheese, responded by wrapping their cheese is cotton cloth or “bandages.” (This access to abundant, cheap, cotton for single-use was only possible due to slave labor in the southern plantations). Later, they began to coat their cheeses in impermeable parrafin wax and, presently, vacuum seal them in plastic bags (both petroleum byproducts). Each of these preservation methods opened up new gateways of flavor. It would be impossible to age a bandaged cheese to the years most vacuum-sealed block cheddars are. A clothbound cheddar at six years would lose all its moisture and become bitter dust, whereas a forty pound block of cheddar sealed in plastic and stored in a cool room can easily be aged twenty or even forty(!) years and develop a crunchy, complex flavor along the way.

            All this may be shocking to those who have a certain idea of what cheddar looks like or where it came from. Perhaps you are thinking of a proper English cheddar like a West Country Farmhouse Cheddar that enjoys a Protected Designation of Origin (PDO). A West Country Farmhouse Cheddar must be made from cow’s milk from herds raised and grazed on the West Country of England (Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall), be made by hand and undergo the “cheddaring” process, before being aged a minimum of nine months. It cannot contain any added coloring, flavoring, or preservatives. But this PDO is quite lenient as far as PDOs go. Cheese made with milk that was pasteurized and not farmstead quality, or with a commercial starter culture, or even aged in naked blocks, can still be granted the coveted designation.

            It is important to remember then that whatever historical or “real,” proper or “pure” cheddar we have in mind when we think about cheddar is illusory. Consumer preferences for age profiles, textures, and flavors, in addition to health administration requirements for sanitation and advances in cheesemaking technology, mean that cheddar makers are producing certain styles of cheddar. The love people have for cheddar and the many ways of arriving at that those flavors mean that there truly is a dizzying, protean array of them. Perhaps you love the pineapple sweetness and acidity of crunchy, crystal-y Prairie Breeze, or the bracing bite of a sharp Widmer’s Six Year. Maybe you want the campfire smokiness of blazing orange Barnburner or the buttery tang of the sheep’s milk Bandaged Bismark. Or those titanic truckles of rich, robust, and grassy West Country Farmhouse cheddar like Montgomery’s, Westcombe, or Pitchfork call you. Whatever cheddar you like, no matter the color, flavor, or shape, we have a cheddar that everyone will love, and so many more to discover.

The Pairing: Magaya de Sidra

by Sophia Stern

As a crew with diverse tastes and preferences, it’s not always that a wheel in the cheese case is loved by all. However, the most recent wheel to win our collective hearts is Magaya de Sidra which has been dubbed ‘The Best Cheese Added to our Case in 2021’. This week, we’re pairing this addictive cow’s milk cheese with a cider from the same region of Asturias, Spain. As Magaya features a rind covered in the pulp leftover from the cider making process, it was a given that we pair this cheese with nothing other than an Austrian cider. As our first step away from featuring wine for the pairing, we couldn’t have asked for a better bottle. Slightly sparkling, Mayador Sidra Espumante is light and flavorful. Both the cider and cheese are steeply entrenched in the rich traditions of Asturias, a natural wonder tucked on Spain’s northern coast. 

Asturias is part of Green Spain, a natural area running along the country’s north coast. The Asturias region features mountains, ancient forests, and stunning coastline full of sandy beaches with natural caves scattered from the peaks to the sea. Costal winds keep the climate mild, while steady rainfall supports a lush and diverse landscape of grasses, herbs, and wildflowers as well as with the expansive apple orchards essential to the sidra culture of the area. The Asturian landscape is primed for making beautiful cheeses and Magaya is one of the best.

Made by Rey Silo, Magaya’s distinct aging process sets the cheese apart from others in the region and bridges the Asturian tradition of natural cider and cheese. After three months of aging in a natural cave, the raw cows milk cheese is sealed in cider barrels with just the spent apple pulp at the bottom. Allowing the wheel to sit in the pulp for two months rehydrates the cheese with apple juices, causing an unexpected creaminess and tartness. The cows diet of grasses and wildflowers give the rich paste green notes, which are balanced by the tart apple flavor from the aging process. 

To handle the richness of tart Magaya, we’ve paired this cheese with medium-dry Mayador, a sweeter, lighter sidra just effervescent enough to cut through the intensity of Magaya without overpowering the subtle notes of flowers and grass. Made by one of the oldest producers of sidras in the Asturias, Mayador is made traditionally, except that this limited release has an unusually lengthy aging process. The apples ferment in chesnut barrels for 8 months, creating a well balanced expression of a traditional sidra. Both Magaya and Mayador are stunning expressions of the land they come from. We hope you’ll enjoy them together and that they'll spark an interest in Spanish cheese beyond Manchego and in the world of natural ciders from one of the most unique places on earth.

Meet Your Monger: Jared K

Current favorite cheese: Challerhocker. It's fudgy and roasty and zippy and pairs with just about anything you throw at it — what more could you ask for?!

Current favorite shop item: Two-way tie between New York Shuk's shawarma spice blend and the Condimela barrel-aged apple cider vinegar from Italy, both of which have quickly become staples in my kitchen.

Fun fact: I was almost on Jeopardy in college.

Cook Like A Cheesemonger: Funky “Fondue-tiflette” Potatoes

by Jared Kaufman 

 Serves 4

It’s cold out there, people. Let’s take a cue from folks in the European alps, who know a thing or two about snowy weather, by making this cheesy potato dish that blends Swiss fondue with French tartiflette — hence “fondue-tiflette.”

 (A note for the sticklers among us: Tartiflette recipes typically call for reblochon cheese, a funky washed-rind softie that’s difficult to find in the U.S. due to laws that restrict the importation of young raw-milk cheeses. But don’t confuse this for time-honored tradition — tartiflette was only invented back in the ’80s, as a marketing tactic to sell more reblochon!)

 This recipe captures the spirit of tartiflette by bringing together strong cheese with potatoes, wine, and herbs, but also with the luscious and silky texture of a good cheese fondue. For my cheeses, I chose Risler Square Raclette, a traditional Swiss melter; Fontina Val d’Aosta, the real stuff from up in the Italian alps; and some classic Taleggio. For the firm cheeses, you could also use Ogleshield, Challerhocker, or our newest cheese, Marbré des Alpes; for the soft cheese, saltier options like Époisses, Red Hawk, or Grayson would also be delightful.

 If you’re not a fan of pungent cheeses, don’t turn your back on me now! The flavors mellow out as the cheeses melt, and, when combined with the potatoes and wine and herbs, they morph into a tangy, sweet-and-savory, belly-warming meal. Trust me on this one.

From France 44:

• Two ⅓ lb. chunks of funky melting cheeses, such as the ones listed above

• ⅓ lb. washed-rind soft cheese, such as the ones listed above

• ½ c. duck fat

• ¾ cup dry white wine, such as Loimer Lois Grüner Veltliner

• Whole-grain mustard, such as American Spoon Whole Seed Mustard or Delouis Fils Old Fashioned Mustard

 From your pantry:

• 2 lb. russet potatoes

• 2 T all-purpose flour

• 2 cloves garlic, grated

• 1 tsp. chopped fresh thyme, plus more to garnish

• Salt to taste

Instructions:

1. Begin your potatoes by scrubbing them clean, then cutting them into 1-inch cubes.

2.            Cook your potatoes. In a wide pan over medium heat, heat the duck fat until one test potato sizzles when dropped in. Add the potatoes and fry until they’re crispy and golden-brown. This might take awhile, so…

3.            Meanwhile, prep the cheese. Grate the firm cheeses into a bowl. Cut the soft cheese into small cubes (½ inch should do the trick) and add them to the bowl with the hard cheeses. Toss with flour to coat.

4.            Make the fondue sauce. Into a saucepan or small Dutch oven over low heat, pour the wine. When it begins to simmer, slowly add in the cheese, small amounts at a time.

5.            Stir the cheese constantly to help it melt evenly. (The firmer cheeses will likely melt more quickly than the softies, so you can help things along by gently breaking up the pieces that remain.) Once it comes together, it’s ready to use immediately, but you can set it aside if you need to finish other components.

6.            Once the potatoes are just about crispy, add garlic, thyme, and salt to the pan and toss around to coat. Continue frying for just a minute or two longer. Remove to a paper towel-lined plate.

7.            Time to assemble! Arrange the potatoes on your serving plate and pour the fondue over the top. (The fondue should be hot! If you had to set it aside in step 5, be sure to gently heat it back up on the stove — while stirring constantly — before you assemble.) Drizzle some whole-grain mustard on top, garnish with thyme, and serve with a nice glass of the white wine.

Raclette Roundup!

by Austin Coe Butler

Raclette takes its name from “racler,” which in a dialect of French Swiss, means “to scrape,” and many hundreds of years ago, when the cowherds who made this cheese would gather around a fire on cool Alpine summer nights, they would warm the cheese against the fire and scrape it, browned and bubbling, onto their bread. As we head into another bout of bitter cold, we are promoting three Raclette-style cheeses, because what better way to indulge yourself on a winter’s night than with some broiled Raclette cheese?

            Spring Brook Reading Raclette is an American Raclette made in Reading, Vermont, from raw Jersey cow’s milk. It is milder than its Swiss forebears but just as dreamy to melt. (We use it on and in a number of our melts, sandwiches, and prepared foods like our Raclette pappardelle.) The supple, creamy texture and buttery flavor make it an excellent entryway into the realm of Raclette.

            Risler Square Raclette is real-deal Swiss Raclette made by Käserei Oberli Rislen in St. Galen, Switzerland. It is notable first for its shape (square), second for its smell (“barnyardy” is being bashful), and finally for its flavor (with a sharp tang and long, funky finish like ramps or Bärlauch that still have some dirt on them). Outside of lounging around in a Chalet wearing a turtleneck and a pair of Finken in the Alps, this is as close as you can get to the veritable experience without the fear of altitude sickness.

            Montgomery’s Ogleshield deserves an explanation as it is an exceptional cheese though unfamiliar to many. You most certainly know Jamie Montgomery’s Cheddar, a titanic, standard-setting West Country Farmhouse Cheddar that is rich, robust, and grassy. Ogleshield was originally called Jersey Shield, since it is made from Jersey cow’s milk and the wide, circular shape resembled the Yetholm-type shield an archaeological investigation on Jamie’s farm turned up among the remains of a bronze century fort. But the problem with Jersey Shield was that the warmth and humidity of the English summers made this cheese spoil from the inside and bloat with gas until it exploded! It wasn’t until William Oglethorpe, who had spent time in the Swiss Alps making cheese saw the wheels of Jersey Shield and suggested Jamie brine them. Brining cheeses allows preserving salt to penetrate them to their core in a way that surface salting cannot. Large cheese like Gruyère and Comté, Emmental and Parmigiano Reggiano are all brined. Jamie repaid Bill by bestowing his name on the cheese, and thus Ogleshield was born. If you are ever in London’s Burough Market, you can find Bill Oglethorpe at his market stall Kappacasein serving his scrumptious grilled cheese sandwiches or ‘cheese toasties” as the Brits say, a mix of Montgomery’s cheddar, Ogleshield, and an assortment of alliums griddled to perfection, or scraping luxurious waves of broiled Ogleshield over boiled potatoes with a scrunch of black pepper and cornichons to garnish. This cheese also deserves an uncooked place on a cheeseboard where the fudgy texture and notes of savory roasted peanuts and vegetal, fresh pea tendril shine. Whenever one of our mongers samples Ogleshield just to remember what it tastes like, they undoubtedly say, “I love this cheese!”

            Don’t have a Raclette machine? Don’t worry! You can always broil slices of cheese on a sheep pan and swoop them up with a wide spatula and blanket whatever you desire. Raclette is great in fondue, Tartiflette, or the rarer Welsh Rarebit. No matter how you are serving these cheeses, broiled and scraped over potatoes, melted into scrambled eggs, or savored at their ambient temperatures alongside a bottle of Gillmore Mariposa País, these cheeses offer the depth and breadth of Raclette with something for everyone to love.

The Pairing: Ogleshield

On a hill in Cadbury where the castle of King Arthur perhaps once sat, the Montgomery family has been making cheese for three generations. Although famed for their farmhouse cheddar, the dairy makes an unexpected style of cheese from an unexpected heard of cows, at least for an English dairy. Montgomery’s Ogleshield is a raclette-style cheese. It’s made with Jersey cow’s milk and like many British cheeses, Ogleshield is grassy and earthy, but its washed rind gives the cheese a distinct boldness, reminiscent of beef stock. Ogleshield stars in this week’s pairing along with Mairposa, a delicious Chilean red made of 100% país grapes.  

Ogleshield is sold to us by Neal’s Yard Dairy, the gold standard for British and Irish cheeses. Neal’s Yard has championed the success of British and Irish cheese since the late 1970’s. From selection  to aging and selling, Neal’s Yard balances tradition and innovation, working with stunning dairy farms around the Isles to create unique, flavorful, iconic cheeses which get shipped around the world. Of the many incredible farms supplying wheels to Neal’s Yard, Montgomery’s is a standout both for their cheddar and Ogleshield. 

A product of risk and experimentation, it took trial and error before Ogleshield became the cheese we know it as today. Jamie Montgomery usually uses his Friesian (Holstein) herd for cheesemaking, meaning Ogleshield is the first cheese made from Montgomery’s Jersey heard and the only cheese sold at Neal’s Yard to be made of 100% Jersey milk. Jersey milk is sweet and creamy and known to make great melting cheeses. When the experimentation began, the new Jersey cheese had a natural rind. A Neal’s Yard cheesemaker, who studied cheese traditions in the Alps, suggested that a salt water wash might improve the cheese’s maturation. Ogleshield was born. With the washed rind and meltable Jersey milk, the Montgomery farm found themselves with a West Country version of raclette. 

We’ve paired this beefy, grassy, raclette-style with a frankly delicious red wine from Chile. Mariposa is made of 100% país grapes, introduced to Chile by Spanish colonialist priests sent to set up missionaries in the New World. Some país vines are around 100 years old, but Mairposa comes from 40 year old vines and is made by a husband and wife dedicated to sustainable, minimalist winemaking. This red is fruity and smooth, with a little bit of red berry tartness on the finish. In many cases, the fruitiness of a wine draws out similar notes in the cheese. In this pairing, the opposite happens as Oglesheild’s grass notes amplify the background notes of minerality and earth in the otherwise fruit-forward red. Enjoy Ogleshield melted for a raclette dinner or simply snack on a wedge at room temperature. Either way, make sure you grab a bottle of Mariposa and enjoy the two together.