Artisanal Cheese Definitions

There is much talk of Artisan food in the world right now, we wanted to take a moment and clear up a few terms .

Artisan: Made by hand by traditional methods. A person is there during every part of the process, checking each stage. Artisan Cheese will more reflect the environment and the differences in milk from season to season. Craftsman is a synonym. A skilled person is at the helm.

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Farmstead cheese from these goats at Fat Toad Farm

Farmstead: The animals are on the property where the cheese is being made. The cheese makers have a farm and make the cheese there. Not all artisan cheese is farmstead, Cowgirl Creamery, for instance, gets their milk from Strauss Organic Dairy.

Commercial: As the name implies commercial cheese is made in large batches. It may not have the variations of an artisan cheese but some of it can be quite good. Rembrandt Gouda is one example of a popular commercial cheese. Fromage Affinois is another. It depends on the company and the care and pride they take in their product. And of course, it always comes down to taste.

Industrial Cheese: This is larger than just commercial. There is one company in California that makes 2.4 million pounds of cheese a day. No one sees the milk, it is piped in, pasteurized, put in a tank, buttons are pushed, cheese comes out. This is often sent to restaurants, pizza parlors, food service and used for private label.

Processed Cheese Food: Has a minimum of 51% dairy product by final weight – meaning milk or whey. And it may contain one or more optional ingredients. Whereas there are some spreads that are okay, many add oils, chemicals and artificial flavors to make them shelf stable for years.

At Fancifull great care is taken in selecting the cheese we carry in the shop and design into our Gift Baskets. We take pride in the research we do regarding the food on our shelves and are committed to bringing you the best in a variety of price ranges.

Hand Flipping the curds at Beecher's in Seattle

Hand Flipping the curds at Beecher’s in Seattle

Goat Cheese being drained

Goat Cheese being drained

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The Golden State

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Opening Night Cheese Tasting

The Golden State

“Eureka! There’s gold in them thar hills.” That was the cry of the 49ers who came to California in the 1800s looking to score a fortune in the gold rush. Now up in the hills of Marin and scattered throughout the state, is gold of different kind. It still of the land, but in the form of milk and dairy products.

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Northern California has long been considered a food epicenter – focusing on family owned farms producing organic product. The establishment of the Marin Agricultural Land Trust (MALT) helped assure that the area of Marin would continue to support farmers and green space rather than being overrun by condos. You can learn more about MALT here: http://www.malt.org/

The call of gold lured me and Wally to load up our wagon and head up north to those very same hills in March to attend and help with the California Artisan Cheese Festival which was held in Petaluma from March 22nd-24th.

The weekend was filled with tours of local cheese makers’ facilities and farms, seminars (beer and cheese at 9:30 am anyone?), tastings, meals, and a Marketplace on Sunday. We attended our first festival last year and immediately became members of the Guild which gave us the opportunity to help set up and run their booth at the Marketplace. Having to be there at 9 am was difficult, but talking about the work the Guild does and the classes they offer in conjunction with the College of Marin was gratifying.

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New Kids on the Block Seminar

Since we teach classes and hold tastings in our shop, we like to get as much insight as we can from the Cheesemaker perspective to share with our students. This lead us to the New Kids on the Block Seminar early Saturday where we got to listen to and ask questions of four Cheesemakers who were bringing new cheese to the market. They spoke frankly about their development process and the challenges in introducing a new cheese to the American public. Janet Fletcher of the San Francisco Chronicle lead the discussion with the cheesemakers and asked pointed questions to keep the info flowing. One of our favorite new cheeses is Point Reyes Bay Blue. Cuba, the cheesemaker for Point Reyes, talked about how he has refined this recipe for years before releasing it. While visiting Point Reyes two yeas ago we had the opportunity to try it in its first stages! Patience pays off. The new Bay Blue is astounding and already winning awards. But it took over two years to get it right! That is a lot of time and effort. We felt fortunate to be able to experience its evolution, it gave us terrific insight into the process of taking a pretty good cheese and turning it into a great one.

New Kids on the Block

New Kids on the Block

Luckily for our Fancifull Customers we have an in with the dairy, so they shipped us a wheel even though it isn’t in wide distribution yet. Nice to have friends in high places.

Toward the end of the seminar, our moderator, Janet Fletcher, let us know that she had just released her latest book: Cheese and Beer . I bought one immediately (and had her sign it). It has lots of information that should contribute to some tasty classes at Fancifull in the near future.

At lunch, we shared our table with the folks from Cypress Grove, another of our favorite cheese companies. Wally would eat Humboldt Fog every morning if he could and I have to say the same about Midnight Moon.

The afternoon held a wine pairing seminar with old world and new world cheese and wine. Old World basically means Europe while new world speaks to the U.S. and Australia. The class was very similar to what we offer in our classes at Fancifull but it was fun to be a student rather than the teacher. There is always so much to learn and Laura Werlin, author of several books on cheese, was a terrific tour guide.

Laura Werlin, our fearless leader

Laura Werlin, our fearless leader

This cheesy weekend left us brimming with ideas and new product to bring into our shop. There is just so much great cheese out there, how do we sell it all? Answer: One wedge at a time.

OId World/New World Wine and Cheese

Old World/New World Wine and Cheese

Quit Wining and Enjoy Life

I’ve been on forums and read many a discussion regarding fine wine and “cheap” wine. One recent discussion revolved around what is the lowest cost wine you are willing to drink if you have a fine palate.
It is funny, because even though I sell wine for a living and have tasted thousands of wines from all regions of the world, I am intent on not becoming a wine snob. As I read about the pain people go through drinking “lesser” wines it made me think. I certainly love a good white burgundy, which is rarely a bargain, but I’ve also had $10 bottles of wine that are fine. I have no desire to go through life wearing blinders, closing myself off to whole categories of things and people. Here is what I realized: traveling is what can really make the difference in your palate and sensibility.

Our Wine Garden In UmbriaRecently, in Umbria, we bought many a bottle of local red wine at under 7 euro a bottle, some as little as 3 euro. When you are sitting on a porch in the hills, looking over Lake Trasimeno surrounded by herbs and olive trees, eating wild boar salami, peccorino cheese, focaccia and the like this wine is fine. I can’t imagine lamenting the quality of the wine – and some were better than others, and noted for the next trip to the store. It opens my taste buds to a greater variety of wines and food when I get home as well as how to enjoy them. This “far niente” is contagious. I grab a bottle of red, create a cheese plate and sit in my backyard with friends and enjoy the day, bringing a bit of Italy to them. For my formal Christmas dinner with prime rib I may opt for a better Bordeaux or perhaps a burgundy, it just seems to go with that particular flow and meal. Pairing food, wine, and atmosphere is one of my passions, so I indulge at every opportunity.

The impact traveling has had on our relationship with food and life is significant. I am thankful that it has taught me to relax and enjoy what is in front of us and take it as a whole rather than pick it apart. While attending a seminar on Italian wines I heard a famous restaurateur speak who had a wine cellar of tremendous renown. Tasting a simple wine from Sicily, he explained its virtues: it was a well made wine yet you don’t expect too much from it but it would be great with Pizza Margherita. He said it isn’t a “meditation wine,” meaning one of those big complex wines that you sip in front of a fire and marvel at the depth and textures in the wine – and possibly your life.
Isn’t that true of so many things we enjoy? There are movies you see to just relax and laugh and those that shift your viewpoints, books to read on the beach and those that require more time and attention, art that is playful and that which has a message to impart. Wine is no different. You still want well-made wine with balance and a degree of complexity, just as when I read a light book I still want good story telling.

The secret is to always find the good in life, relax and drink it in.

Fancy Food Show 2010

Attending the Fancy Food Show in New York is not for the weak of mind, heart or stomach. It fills a cavernous 675,000 sq ft jammed with over 180,000 products from 2500 exhibitors representing 81 countries. Whew! You have 3 days to explore and find the lucky ones that will make it back to your shop. You either want to run out screaming or sigh and take a toothpick and start tasting, regretting those reservations you made for dinner because, let’s face it, you won’t be hungry for hours after the convention floor closes.

Exhausting as it is, I do get the chance to meet vendors, see new product and compare products through tasting. This is a godsend when trying to determine which is good enough to make it onto the shelves of Fancifull or be designed into one of our gift baskets. I once was sold on a cherry in liquer that had good packaging. Two rows over there was another manufacturer, with a simple label, but oh my, they were so much better. There was no contest.

I really am a bit crazy about tasting and finding the best. I found a fantastic cheese from Utah that is rubbed with espersso beans giving it a slightly sharp flavor that melts as you hit the more mellow cheese. Next booth over was the guy from Colorado who made wild boar sausage better than what I ate recently in Italy. Sampling, comparing and talking gives me an opportunity to get to the heart and soul of the food, rather than buying due to convenience, marketing or a glitzy package.

The number of artisan producers who had booths at the show surprised and thrilled me. This is an industry ruled by the big boys, who mass produce with often more care to the bottom line than the quality of the product. (I do have to say there are some big companies who do it right, I don’t want to slight them or anyone making a great tasting product). I am proud of the number of American Craftsmen out there who are creating cheese as good if not better than Europe and the chocolate makers sourcing fair and good chocolate as well as the many women I met starting their own baking companies. The good ones really stand out – small doesn’t always mean better which is why tasting the product is an imperitive. Their passion and dedication is contagious and I can’t wait to share their products with you. I delight in introducing you to new artisans and delicious food, it is a mission with me, and one which we can all savor.

Everything is Butterful…

Vermont ButterI look at the shopping list for the dinner I am preparing for friends and see butter scribbled just under bread and above asparagus. Simple enough, go to the dairy section and grab a pound. Ah yes, for the uninitiated that may be fine. But I have a good crusty bread in my cart and would love the Vermont butter with coarse salt that comes in this cute wooden basket with blue gingham paper. I will be reducing a sauce with butter for the fish so I have to think, what do I want that flavor to be? I hate to admit this, but I love butter. I don’t dream of it, or think about it all the time, just when I need to cook with it, or when I walk by the refrigerator section of a grocery store , or am traveling to a country that specializes in dairy, or am eating toast, or …there are so many times to think about butter. Some people can’t pass by a shoe shop for danger of being lured in by footwear. My obsession is butter.

I blame England for my addiction. Okay, it isn’t completely responsible. I do remember sitting at a holiday meal with my sister-in-law – long before English butter entered my life – loading our baked potatoes with pats from the silver dish and laughing that the potato was just a delivery vehicle for the butter. It is something I’ve enjoyed since I was a child, when we had “real butter” on Sunday and margarine during the week. Living on my own meant “real butter” daily.

But it was mid 1990’s, while vacationing in the Lakes District of England that I first ate farm fresh butter. We sat around the kitchen table of our little cottage, eating the scones we had picked up that morning. I remember biting into it and the flavor jumping out at me. It was so light yet had so much flavor, not just fattiness, it was like eating fresh cream only better. I shouldn’t have been surprised. This is the country known for shortbread ,which is just butter held together with some flour and sugar. My favorite cookie.

We slathered butter on everything we ate in England and Scotland. When we returned home, the poor American butter felt inadequate and we’d sit at the dinner table and sigh over the English version. But we got on with our lives and the British butter became a faded memory.

Come the year 2000 we made a trip to France. We bought some butter at a local farmers’ market and as we were biting into the baguette laden with it, my daughter and I both looked at each other and exclaimed, “Oh my God, the butter.” Yes French butter was just as good, sometimes better, than the English.

Jean Yves Bordier Butter

Jean Yves Bordier Offering Butter

It has everything to with where and what the cows are fed as well as the hand of the producer. I read about the famous Brittany butter maker Jean Yves Bordier. When asked why his butter is so good he said, “I haven’t invented anything new, I use old methods that respect the land, the animals, and tradition.” That respect is what makes his cow’s milk churn into such a creamy delight.

I was now on a mission to learn more. When I went to the Fancy Food shows trade shows for people in the gourmet industry, I found myself in the dairy aisles talking to the artisan butter makers. This is how I found the stuff not carried in the big chain stores: Vermont Butter and Cheese company , Sierra Nevada, and Meyenberg Goat Butter. I learned about cultured butter (the cream is slightly fermented adding depth of flavor) more popular in Europe, and sweet cream butter (made with pasteurized milk).

One day I was waiting in the checkout line at my local grocery store and there was Saveur Magazine with a whole issue devoted to butter. I had hit the mother load. I bought several copies, certain that everyone would want to enrich their knowledge of this golden goodness. Isn’t it funny that when you are intensely interested in something you assume everyone shares your enthusiasm?

An article in the magazine lead to me to Restaurant Jean in Paris. They serve the Brodier butter from Brittany. I had to try it. Yes it was worth the trip. I was in a local French market and noticed their huge assortment of butter from around the world. I filled my basket with Anchor from New Zealand, Pamplie from the French Coast and at least thirty dollars worth of other butters from all parts of the globe. Oh the decadence, the joy of being able to sample such an array all in one sitting.

French ButterMaybe it isn’t just the butter that captivates me. It is the fascination of where products come from, how they are made, what makes each different, much to the boredom of my friends sometimes. I don’t want to eat something just because it is touted by the latest gourmet magazine or blog. I need to see for myself, form my own opinion. My shop feeds this obsession by allowing me to taste five different english toffees before deciding which I’ll carry. Recently we opened four different bags of potato chips to determine which had the best potato flavor. Today I listened to the man behind the counter at Canter’s Deli as he explained how to reheat the pastrami I had just bought to bring out the best flavor. It is the pride he had in his pastrami that delighted me. Artisan product is crafted by someone who wants to bring out the best in the material he is working with, whether that be stone, fabric, or cream.

It comes down to the search for truth in every aspect of life; my true passion. They say curiosity killed the cat. It won’t kill me, but it certainly contributes to the fifteen pounds I chronically want to lose.

Kitchen Meditation

About to hit the frying pan

Down comes the knife, it glides seamlessly through the fennel. First I cut it lengthwise, along the green veins; four long slices, then I hold that together as I cut along the width, making nice small bites. The 8 inch chef’s knife I am using, one of the few possessions I care for lovingly, was picked up after a knife skills class at Sur La Table. The teacher emphasized the need for a good one, that it was a personal decision, it had to feel good in your hand. Mine fits me perfectly. I can’t wait to get into the kitchen and start slicing.
I hear the leeks sizzling on the stove, and Etta James wailing At Last as the orchestral strings swell in the background. I feel all the worries of the morning slip away as I cut nice even squares of fennel. I breathe deeply, sway a bit to the blues coming from the cd, and concentrate on making small uniform pieces. This is where I relax, in the kitchen. A few minutes earlier I was thinking, thinking, thinking – making arrangements to meet my sister in Italy, who will get over to help grandma with her lunch, organizing the fundraiser at my shop tonight, which flight do I put Rene on, I need to make hotel reservations for New York , oh I forgot to answer Gary’s email, a client is coming at 9 am, can Wally handle it or should I be there…and so on and so on and so on.
But now I have asparagus on the counter behind me and it needs tending . I add a little lavender salt to the mixture of leeks, fennel , celery and garlic I have in my treasured oval copper skillet that used to be my mom’s. I remember the day in the early seventies when we were at the store buying it, another one for her collection of Revereware. She loved looking through the catalog to decide which would be next, hung them on the wall of the kitchen, but rarely used them. “I don’t want to get them dirty,” she would explain. As a teenager I used them as a mirror, loving the copper tone they gave my skin. I’d put my hair in braids and pretend I was Native American, vogue in the mid seventies – this was the era of Cher and songs like Half-Breed. It is the skillet I use the most, partially as a connection to my mom.
The music has shifted to the funkier horns of Tell Mama and I pick up my dance moves as I watch the spinach curl up as it hits the heat. Luckily I am alone so I can do all the very jive dance moves I want – that is part of the therapy. My IPod has playlists for most of life’s activities including cooking. Sometimes it is the jazz/blues styling of Ella and Etta, but then Dean Martin is always a good cooking companion. My guilty pleasure is pure 80s with Footloose, Kung Foo Fighting and some Wham thrown in. That’s when my dancing is at its best – sliding across the floor, hands in the air, maybe a twirl or two.
I know some people unwind in a bath, candles lit with a glass of wine, or maybe a good massage. My sister loves the sense of running, running away from her house and all the responsibilities therein. But for me, it is the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, Wusthof knife in hand, with my favorite music playing. Give me a counter full of washed vegetables and a good knife and my blood pressure drops.
I look at the pan admiring the comingling of the different shades of green and add in chopped tomatoes. The bright red just pops. I sigh, both for the visual appeal and how good this is going to taste. Food for the body and the soul.