San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
In defense of eating cheese every day
Soleil Ho is on book leave, so the Chronicle Food & Wine team is taking over the newsletter. This week, wine reporter Jess Lander writes about a favorite food.
I often joke that cheese is my favorite food group.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m obsessed with cheese, or that a day rarely goes by when I don’t consume it.
As a new year often inspires us to do, I’ve been re-evaluating my eating and drinking habits. The two things a doctor might tell me to cut back on? Cheese and wine. I know why I consume a lot of wine. I’m a wine journalist. But cheese took a little more introspection.
Most days, my cheese intake is simple: a few slices of Swiss straight from the fridge that were meant for my husband’s turkey sandwiches; a sprinkle of feta over heirloom tomatoes in summer; or a healthy grate of Parmesan on top of pasta or roasted veggies.
But on special occasions, I go all out to prove my allegiance. Each year I spend well over $100 on high-end cheese for my Christmas Eve spread. My husband and I drive an hour each way to Oliver’s Market in Santa Rosa for its fantastic selection. Utilizing a book called “Great Balls of Cheese,” I’ve created themed cheese balls for any and all holidays, including a jalapeño-bacon football for the Super Bowl and an herbed, almond-coated turkey on Thanksgiving.
My greatest cheese triumph, which I frequently drop whenever I want to one-up a fellow cheese lover, was my cheesy wedding cake — not a cheesecake, but a tiered tower made from wheels of cheese and decorated with honey, flowers, fruits and nuts. “We cut the cheese at our wedding,” I always add at the end. (It usually gets at least a chuckle.)
I’ve been trying to track back to the root of my cheese obsession and predictably, it comes down to my childhood. Not only was I a picky eater, insisting on slathering blue cheese dressing over every chicken dish, but my mother was quite influential. I have fond memories of beach days when she would fold salami over a knife of cream cheese for a snack. (I still do this.) On birthdays, she would make her “famous” homemade mac and cheese recipe; the next day for lunch, she’d broil the leftover extra sharp cheddar on slices of bread until it was bubbling and oozing down the sides. Whenever my family had a reason to go out and celebrate, we went to the Melting Pot, where the cheese fondue was my favorite course.
But in the last 15 years, my appetite for cheese has grown beyond childhood nostalgia. As they say in the wine world, my palate has evolved and developed a sort of sophistication for the good stuff. When I tried to pinpoint why, I came back to my other love: wine.
Beyond the obvious fact that cheese is a traditional pairing with wine, the two categories share many parallels. Like wine, the topic of cheese seems infinite, with an exhaustive list of varieties and styles to discover. Every cheese has its own complex profile of distinct flavors, aromas and textures influenced by many factors, including the origin of the milk, the animal’s diet, bacteria, mold and, most similar to wine, aging. Both can enhance a dish and allow for fun experimentation with pairings.
Cheese and wine are best explored through travel, where one can learn the impacts of history, culture and terroir on regional offerings. Cheese is the language through which I’ve connected with places like Switzerland, the Netherlands and Wisconsin. Wine people always talk about the bottle that changed their life. I have a cheese: Fermier à la moutarde de Meaux Pommery. Served at the Château Mouton Rothschild winery in Bordeaux, France, this brie featured a thin layer of mustard down the middle. It was unexpectedly incredible, but when I tried to take some home, I was informed it was impossible. Three years later, I still think about it often, and have yet to find a mustard brie that comes close.
I’ve realized that I’m unlikely to cut back much on my cheese intake, or wine intake for that matter, this year. Both are so much more than food and drink, and there’s simply too much to discover.