DEVON: CHEDDAR
As we approach 2021, it’s more important than ever that we stand up for food standards. In this new series, we spotlight the best of regional British foods and champion the artisans who bring them to our table. This month:
In our new food series, we spotlight regional British foods and the artisans who bring them to our table
It’s mid-winter, and Mary Quicke is crunching through the fields of her family farm in Newton St Cyres, Devon.
Behind her, a trail of footsteps snakes in the frozen grass. Aside from the song of a skylark cutting through the crisp air, the landscape is still and quiet. The herd of 600 cattle will live indoors until early February. Not long now. Daffodil bulbs are beginning to break through the icy ground.
“Our philosophy is to farm like we’re going to live for ever: to treat the land well, so that it, in turn, treats us well,” Mary says, surveying the 2,700 acres of pasture and woodland that have been in the Quicke family since 1540. In that time, they have dabbled in manganese mining, wheat growing and acorn planting, but it’s their most recent incarnation as cheesemakers for which they are famed. Today, Quicke’s makes some of the nation’s best-loved artisan cheddar – and, in 2005, Mary was made an MBE for her contributions to the industry.
Mary heaves open the door to the dairy, in place of the old cowshed, and heat gushes out, steam rising from metal vats of warming milk. Sixty-year-old starter culture is added (this ‘good’ bacteria causes the milk to acidify), then a few drops of rennet. The liquid coagulates until a layer of thick curd floats on the surface. The whey is drained (it will later be churned into butter) before the team of nine cheesemakers start ‘cheddaring’, pressing down the curds to form a solid white slab. This is cut into blocks, which are milled into smaller chunks, and a sprinkling of Cornish sea salt is added. Finally, the cheese is swaddled in a muslin cloth and pressed into a wheel-shaped mould. The technique has barely changed for centuries.
DEVOTED TO DAIRY
Six miles from the cathedral city of Exeter, Home Farm has its own house of worship. Its ‘cathedral of cheese’ is a cool, dark barn housing hundreds of truckles on towering wooden racks. Speckles of orange and green mould decorate each round – Mary likens the space to a gallery of Jackson Pollock paintings. Here, cheese matures for up to two years, the mould creating a rich, horseradish-like flavour under the rind. Unlike industrially made versions, aged for just three months, Quicke’s offering is the world’s longest naturally matured clothbound cheddar. “We produce it mindfully and like to think that customers eat it the same way, taking the time to savour the flavour,” Mary says. “Cheesemaking is a careful combination of science and art. Just as Michelangelo looked at a slab of marble to find the beautiful statue inside it, we look at a vat of milk to find the cheese hidden in its depths.” Such artistry has not gone unnoticed. The Quickes have nearly as many Great Taste Awards and medals as their cows have spots. Gill Meller, author and River Cottage chef, describes Quicke’s clothbound cheddar as “some of the best he’s ever tasted”. “People tell us our cheese changed their lives,” Mary says. “They had no idea that it could be so complex.”
Quicke’s latest creation, Lady Prue, is particularly special. Named after Mary’s 92-year-old mother, who built the dairy in 1973, it combines goat’s and cow’s milk, and is one of only a handful of mixed-milk cheeses made in the UK. Prue’s late husband and Mary’s father, Sir John Quicke, was knighted in 1988 for services to agriculture. As president of the Country Landowners’ Association, his work in environmental regulation paved the way for policy today. It also often pulled him to London, leaving Prue, an artist, and their six children to take charge of the farm and the new dairy.
British cheese, at the time, was in dire straits. During the two World Wars, the focus had been on feeding the nation. Cheese
sales were controlled by the Milk Marketing
Board, permitting only one product to be made: national cheese. “A bland cheddar-style abomination, enough to put anyone off dairy for life,” Mary says. In the Seventies, makers started to stage a comeback, but then they were up against industrial farming. “People expected us to start making block cheese using machines,” Mary remembers. The Quickes stuck to tradition. “Dad was proud to employ the same number of people as his father had,” she adds.
Today, Quicke’s employs a team of 38, from farmers to marketeers. But while they might be big cheeses in the dairy world, the family prefers to stock independent shops. “As our product is handmade, we want it to be hand-sold,” Mary says. “We want people to have a conversation with a human when they buy it.” This became more difficult during lockdown, yet in line with the family motto, “strength seeks challenges”, Mary guided Quicke’s through. The team drove sales from the website and even launched virtual ‘Academy of Cheese’ courses for enthusiasts to learn about it online.
FRESH PASTURES
With three brothers, Mary was never expected to take over the farm. But while her eldest brother John inherited the land, running a forestry business from it, her father insisted that all the children have a place on the farm should they want one. Mary moved to London to study English, returning to Devon each weekend with her husband, Tom, but eventually came back permanently, taking over the dairy in 1983. She crossbred the farm’s high-yielding Holstein cattle with lower-yielding Montbeliarde, Scandinavian Red, Brown Swiss, Kiwi Holstein, Friesian and Jersey cows. This new hybrid herd produced half the milk of their predecessors, but, boy, was it creamy. Cows are moved frequently for a varied diet and as a result, no two cheeses are exactly the same. Flavour changes with the seasons and when the cows are grazing, there’s a hint of freshly cut lawn. “We describe it as ‘cow breath’,” Mary says. “It’s glorious!” During December and January, the herd is brought indoors to munch through the summer’s silage, giving winter cheese a treacly quality.
The land will rest for another month or so, before the herd returns to it, the younger cows bucking and bounding through the clover-rich pastures. But today, the frosty fields feel frozen in time. Wars have raged, machines have risen up and pandemics have ripped across the world – and all the while, the Quickes have been quietly farming the land like they’re going to live for ever.
MAC ’N’ GREENS
Some of the pasta has been replaced with vegetables for a lighter version of this classic comfort dish.
Preparation 15 minutes
Cooking about 35 minutes Serves 4
225G MACARONI
200G GREEN BEANS, TRIMMED AND HALVED 250G CAULIFLOWER, CUT INTO SMALL FLORETS 50G BUTTER
50G PLAIN FLOUR
600ML MILK
125G EXTRA-MATURE CHEDDAR, FINELY GRATED 2 TSP WHOLEGRAIN MUSTARD
100G FROZEN PEAS
50G KALE, SHREDDED
½ TBSP OLIVE OIL
1 Preheat the oven to 180°C (160°C fan oven) gas mark 4. Bring a large pan of lightly salted water to the boil. Tip in the pasta and cook for 5 minutes, add the green beans and continue cooking for another 2 minutes, then tip in the cauliflower. Bring back to the boil for a final 2 minutes, until just cooked and still crunchy. Drain well.
2 Meanwhile, melt the butter in a large saucepan and stir in the flour. Cook for 2 minutes, until the flour mixture starts to look slightly sandy in texture, then take off the heat. Gradually blend in the milk, whisking between each addition until the mixture looks smooth.
3 Return the pan to the heat and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring constantly, until thickened and smooth. Take the pan off the heat again, stir in 100g of the Cheddar and the mustard. Season to taste.
4 Add the pasta, green beans, cauliflower and peas to the sauce and stir well. Spoon into four mini ovenproof baking dishes (or one 1.7-litre dish). Toss the kale with the oil and the remaining cheese, and scatter it over the pasta. Cook in the oven for 15-20 minutes if cooking individual portions, or for 20-25 minutes in the larger dish, until bubbling and golden.