Hard cheese
How Britain is losing the halloumi wars
Mark Hardy is a softly spoken cheesemaker who has been making Brighton Blue, Saint Giles, Ashdown Forester’s and Sussex Slipcote on his family farm in West Sussex for a quarter of a century.
But as he stands in his farmyard, he says: “I’m cross. I am annoyed.”
The source of his annoyance is the fastestselling cheese that he makes at High Weald Dairy: halloumi.
You may have been under the impression that halloumi was a Cypriot cheese – a distinctive sheep or goat’s hard cheese that is (frankly) a bit rubbery when raw, but when fried or grilled takes on a lovely, deep, salty flavour. It’s the perfect vegetarian option for the barbecue.
And the cheese-makers of Cyprus are firmly of the view that it is a Cypriot cheese – to such an extent that they have recently submitted a bid for Protected Designated Origin status, a label granted by the European Union to only a small number of products, such as champagne, Parma ham, Melton Mowbray pork pies and Cornish clotted cream.
A PDO label means that products can only be given the distinctive name if they are made in a specific and restricted area with historic links to the manufacturing process, be it Arbroath smokies, Roquefort or Brie.
But Mr Hardy, along with a number of other cheesemakers from Somerset to Yorkshire, have pointed out that halloumi is very much a British cheese, too – one that they have been making for more than 25 years.
Yes, while it may not be as historic as Cheddar or Stilton, it is being made in increasing quantities. The Specialist Cheesemakers Association estimates that 300 to 400 tonnes was made in the UK last year. It has become one of the fastest-growing cheeses in Britain, as consumers embrace ever-more Continental diets.
Mr Hardy, who made his first block back in 1988, says British producers should take some of the credit for this: “We’ve grown the market. We do a lot of farmers’ markets. We’ll sit there with a pan, frying the stuff, giving people tasters and they love it.”
The Department for Environment, Food and
‘The fledgling industry in Britain will be kiboshed’
Rural Affairs submitted an objection to the Cyprus bid last week, supporting the protests of British cheesemakers, who argue that a successful Cypriot bid could be catastrophic. If the EU granted halloumi special status, all the British halloumi cheese would have to be called something like “Cyprus-style grilling cheese” or “salty grilling cheese”. Mr Hardy jokes that they will probably have to rename it “squeaky cheese”.
Chris Heyes, one of the cheese-makers working at separating the curds and whey by hand when I visit High Weald Dairy, says: “If people don’t know it’s halloumi, you’ve got a problem. They’ll look at it and say, ‘Oh, is it a cheese board cheese?’ And then be very disappointed when they bite into it.”
Mr Hardy, who supplies Marks & Spencer and Sainsbury’s, adds: “Names matter. New customers will look at it on the shelf and be confused.”
Terry Jones, the secretary of the Specialist Cheesemakers Association, says: “The real problem is if you are a British
‘Most Cypriot halloumi has cow’s milk in it these days’
supermarket and suddenly your long-standing supplier can no longer call it halloumi, but has to call it ‘grilling cheese’, the chances are you’ll ditch that supplier and go with a Cypriot one. The fledgling UK halloumi industry will be kiboshed.”
While halloumi is a very important export for Cyprus – it sends 13,000 tonnes abroad every year – the evidence that cheese is particular to the island is sketchy. There is no farm, village or area in Cyprus called halloumi. Indeed, some food historians argue the etymology of the word is from the ancient Coptic hallum – meaning cheese. This suggests it could be Egyptian in origin. And though Cyprus is the biggest producer, it is made in large quantities not just in the UK but also in Greece, Bulgaria, Australia, Canada, Syria and New Zealand.
But the Cypriot application has support from the highest level in Europe, where the joint bid from the Turkish north side of the island and Greek south side is seen as proof the EU has the power to bring warring territories together.
The president of the European Commission, Jean-Claude Juncker, has given the application his full blessing, saying: “The common understanding reached around this application is highly symbolic and it confirms the willingness of the two parties to work together with the help of the Commission to build confidence with concrete measures.”
Mr Hardy said he was not just annoyed that his business was being caught in a bit of EU politicking, but that the bid takes little account of quality. The Cypriot application says producers can use not just cow’s milk, but even powdered milk.
Michael Michael [sic], who helps run his fatherin-law’s farm in Somerset, is equally upset – not least because his family (and his wife’s) are originally from Cyprus. He feels the cheese-makers in his homeland have neglected quality in the race to get a commercial advantage.
He says: “The whole point of PDO is that it supports traditional, quality products, be it Melton Mowbray pork pies or mozzarella di Bufala Campana. The issue I have is that halloumi traditionally is made with goat’s or sheep’s milk, or a mixture of both. But never cow’s milk. And yet most Cypriot halloumi now has cow’s milk in it.
“It tastes different,” he adds. “We’ve run trials with consumers. The traditional sheep and goat halloumi made in Britain tastes better.”
Mr Hardy agrees. “Most Cypriot halloumi is made from cow’s milk – about 90 per cent. It is inferior quality. It is just so industrial. We sell our halloumi to some big customers and they say ours is so much better than the imported stuff.”
Mr Michael is particularly baffled by the EU stance as he is the beneficiary of a large European grant to help him transform his fatherin-law’s farm from a cattle one into a dairy operation – specifically one aimed at making Somerset halloumi and Greek yoghurt.
He received his EU rural economy grant, worth £213,000, from the EU just a couple of years ago.
“That’s bureaucracy, I suppose,” he said. “But I do think it is wrong if Cyprus tries to monopolise the word halloumi. It just doesn’t make sense.”
As David Cameron attempts to negotiate a better deal for Britain in Europe, perhaps he might consider a humble block of grilling cheese as his starting point. “Hands off our halloumi!” isn’t a bad slogan, after all.