We couldn’t let American Craft Beer Week pass by without recommending a few craft cheese and beer pairings for your enjoyment this weekend. As many cheese lovers know, fermented milk matches marvelously with fermented beverages of any variety — so no need to limit yourself to just champagne, as we may have short-sightedly done when naming this blog… Fortuitously, I was invited to attend the Taste of Vermont Thursday night on Capitol Hill, an annual event hosted by Senator Patrick Leahy (D-VT). I suppose it’s only natural that the Senator be a foodie, coming from the land of so many delicious creations.

How much of a foodie is the Senator? Here are just a few of his tweets from yesterday:

@SenatorLeahy: Not to be cheesy but #VTs is hard to beat: @cabotcoop @cellarsatJH @VtCheeseCouncil @maplebrookvt. Try them all #TasteOfVermont

@SenatorLeahy: Congrats @KingArthurFlour on new expansion: inspiring people 2 bake & bringing wholesome tasty food to a table near you. #TasteOfVermont

@SenatorLeahy: Diet tomorrow. @CherryGarcia @ComfortCookies @LCChocolates @VTMnliteCookies and Bakery at Farmhouse Kitchen, all at #TasteOfVermont tonight.

Back to the subject at hand. We know and love many of the cheesemakers from the great state of Vermont, and it’s only natural that the state’s brewers produce a range of cheese-friendly suds to choose from. Did you know that Vermont has the highest number of breweries per person of any state? Two of my favorite pairings from last night: Magic Hat‘s newest Elder Betty, a delightfully tart summer weiss-style ale, with new-to-me Sage Farm Goat Dairy‘s Sterling, an ash-ripened Valencay-style pyramid of Alpine goats-milk, and Wolaver‘s Wildflower Wheat with Spring Brook Farm‘s Reading Raclette.

Other delicacies savored at the event included Jasper Hill‘s Weybridge on Castleton Crackers, Vermont Farmstead Cheese‘s luscious Lille, a pickled fiddlehead on Vermont Salumi‘s pate, Vermont Shepherd‘s Invierno and Consider Bardwell‘s Pawlet with Whistle Pig Rye, Vermont Yak chili, goat curry, Green Mountain Distillers maple liquor, Maplebrook mozzarella caprese, Vermont Soy tofu nori rolls, and pumpkin brulée topped with Fat Toad Farm‘s divine goats-milk caramel. And brought home cheese snacks from Cabot for the kids, maple syrup and honey. Phew. Oh, and between each course I cleansed my palate with a few Vermont Pickles. The maple sweets are a divine complement to just about any cheese.

The annual Taste of Vermont in DC is an invitation-only affair, but you can get your own taste of many of these creations (and so many more) at the fourth annual Vermont Cheesemakers Festival on July 22, 2012, at Shelburne Farms. The event is sure to sell out, so be sure to purchase your tickets today. As if the cheese wasn’t a big enough draw, you can also attend a “How Cheese Works” seminar with Cellars at Jasper Hill’s Zoe Brickley (reservations required).  I haven’t made it back since the first fest in 2009 … don’t make the same mistake!

What craft beer are you drinking this weekend?

Colleen has been eager to try the new bistro menu at La Fromagerie since it debuted last fall, and when she finally made it there for a meal last week, she had a special guest with her – me! In town for a whirlwind work trip, I managed to squeeze in an extra day so I could visit some of my favorite people and places, and there was no question where we’d go for lunch on my way to the airport. And on a stormy afternoon, there is nothing more comforting than a hearty cheese plate, warm soup and good company.

We restrained ourselves and ordered a three-cheese plate that represented three categories: soft, stinky and blue. My sister Mandy, who joined us, was pleased her stuffed nose prevented her from fully experiencing the stink, but Colleen’s daughter E had a fine time literally licking the cheese from our knives (the non-sharp end, of course). We feasted upon:

Sofia (Capriole Farmstead, IN) This creamy goat cheese could easily draw comparisons to perennial C+C favorite Humboldt Fog, with its mild flavor and layers of vegetable ash running through the paste, but it’s a little less lemony and a tad more salty. We had to fight off E to get our fair share of Sofia.

Caveman Blue (Rogue Creamery, OR) We adore all Rogue cheeses, and the raw-milk Caveman Blue is no exception. It expertly balances the umami tones of a finely aged blue with the fruity sweetness that keeps the blue flavor from becoming overpowering. Pairing each bite with a dried apricot or fig spread made for an even better tasting experience.

Hudson Red (Twin Maple Farm, NY) Here’s our stinker! Raw-milk Hudson Red gets its pungency and bright orange rind from a brine containing B. linens. Its funkiness, dense, pliable paste and toasty flavor were well-matched with a crisp apple slice.

With some other fruits and crispy flatbreads – and, of course, glasses of bubbly – we had one of the most satisfying lunches a cheese lover could ask for. Colleen also enjoyed a bowl of stinging nettle soup with a swirl of goat cheese, while I nibbled on some steamed asparagus. We both dipped into E’s decadent, buttery, bread-crumby mac and cheese. Cheers to Sebastian and Mary for putting together a bistro menu that hits the spot!

Little makes me happier than asking my cheesemonger what’s new and having them offer up something from a local cheesemaker. Virginia has but a handful of cheesemakers, which is a little disheartening given the explosive growth of our wine industry in recent years. The ones we do have, however, are top notch, so I didn’t hesitate to pick up a wheel of the new cheese from Caromont Farm.

What’s a chef to do when they can’t find quality ingredients to work with? Move to the country and buy some goats, of course. At least that’s the story told by Gail Hobbs-Page, who launched Caromont Farms five years ago in Esmont, Va., near Charlottesville.

Caromont Farm is locally known for its exquisite goat cheeses. Bloomsbury represents a more recent foray into cows milk cheeses. A petite bloomy-rind wheel, Bloomsbury is delightfully fresh and creamy, a tad sweet, with just a hint of mushroom in the rind. As with all bloomy rinds, it’d be lovely with sparkling wine or a spring rosé (better yet, a sparkling rosé), or a mild lager.

Read more about Caromont Farm at Beyond the Flavor — fair warning: the photos of Gail and her kids will leave you considering running away to a farm as well. I found Bloomsbury at La Fromagerie, but as of this spring, Caromont cheeses can also be found at Cowgirl Creamery in DC and Murray’s in NYC. Viva Virginia cheese!

Most cheese novices would look at the slab of Red Rock and think it was a cheese gone horribly bad, but you and I know that looks can deceiving. In the case of this blue/cheddar hybrid by Wisconsin’s Roelli Cheese Haus, the craggy, veiny interior of the cheese symbolizes the elevation of your basic mild cheddar to an artisan foodstuff. Red Rock is a case in point why your mother taught you not to judge a book by its cover.

Though Red Rock is relatively new, debuting late last year, the Roelli family has been making cheese in south-central Wisconsin for four generations. Best known for most of those years for making Wisconsin classics like cheddar, brick and colby, the Roellis first ventured into artisan territory with Dunbarton Blue, which has won critical raves since debuting in 2008. Though Dunbarton Blue and Red Rock both feature cheddar bases criss-crossed with blue veins, Red Rock is, as Wisconsin cheese champion Jeanne Carpenter put it, “a working man’s cheese.”

But while Jeanne implies that Red Rock is more suitable for a sandwich than a cheese board, I wouldn’t hesitate to feature it front and center, not only for its striking appearance (it has twice the amount of annatto of a typical cheddar), but also for its delightful flavor. The cheddar, though mild, dances across the tongue, and the blue streaks add a minerally, earthy overtone that boosts the cheese’s overall savoriness. For a kick, try it on an all-cheddar cheese board, comparing its merits to other favorites like Isle of Mull and Lincolnshire Poacher. With some beer (Pastoral recommends Port Old Viscosity from Port Brewing Company), a hearty wheat or rye bread and some apples, you’ve got a ploughman’s lunch that’s sure to satisfy. For as much as we love our fancy-schmancy cheese plates, sometimes you need a cheese that’s solid, dependable and, well, a rock.

Want to hear from the cheesemaker himself about Red Rock? Watch Wisconsin Cheese Talk’s interview with Chris Roelli.

Prairie Fruits Farm first caught our attention in early 2009, when it was rumored that its goat cheeses were served at a presidential inaugural dinner, and once we sampled the Illinois creamery’s Moonglo, we realized why. We loved the raw-milk tomme-style cheese, which Benjamin at France 44 ordered upon my special request, but since then no Prairie Fruits Farm cheeses passed our lips. That is, until last week, when I ordered a trio from Murray’s. Hey, once you pay for the shipping for one cheese, it just makes sense to order three.

Though best known for its goat cheeses – made from the milk of the La Mancha and Nubian goats that cheesemakers Wes Jarrell and Leslie Cooperband raise on the farm – Prairie Fruits Farm also creates cheeses using the milk of Friesian-Lacaune sheep raised on an Amish farm about 45 minutes south of Champaign. And of the three cheeses I purchased, one of the sheepy specimens was my favorite. Black Sheep (pictured right) resembles a Selles-Sur-Cher in shape and appearance, but the sharply pleasing tang differed considerably from the clean goat’s-milk flavor I remembered about its French counterpart. Black Sheep is covered by a salt-ash mixture a day after ladling, which Jarrell and Cooperband say reduces the acidity and results in a mellower, creamier cheese. It certainly earned my two thumbs-up, and you’ll find me sneaking extra tastes of the Black Sheep more often than its sisters.

That’s not to say I found fault with the other two cheeses. Ewe Bloom (pictured left), another sheep’s-milk variety, blew me over with its full-bodied flavor that reminded me of a washed-rind but less funky cow’s-milk cheese. Patterned after an Italian Robiola, Ewe Bloom is aged for a brief period (about two weeks), which lends it that beefy punch, but still retains the delicate rind and runny paste of a young bloomy. While I’d suggest a sparkling wine for any of these cheeses, Murray’s suggests a fruity red to accompany Ewe Bloom. My solution: Buy a bottle of both and perform your own taste test.

Angel Food (pictured right), the only goat cheese I sampled this go-around, also featured the look of the yeasty overcoat of a washed-rind cheese, but perhaps that was because my wedge was on the older side of the spectrum. Compared to its sheepy sisters, it stood out for its frothy paste and oozy consistency. I have to admit I hoped for more of a tang upon first bite – perhaps because I was so enamored by Black Sheep, which I tasted first – but several samples later, I can appreciate Angel Food for what it’s meant to be: a sweet, young cheese for goat’s-milk lovers who prefer a pillow of paste.

Is there a family of cheeses you esteem? Share your favorites with us!

Farmers market season is beginning (in DC, at least) and spring and summer’s fresh produce often calls for fresh cheese, like chevre, mozzarella and feta. I noted last summer that I had had the chance to sample some new-to-me cheeses from Maine — and the good folks at Pineland Farms were kind enough to send a box full of samples for my budding cheese snobs and I to taste. (Proof that you reap what you sow: my five-year-old has recently sworn off string cheese, instead asking me, peering into the cheese drawer, “Do you have any of those cheeses I like?”)

Pineland Farms Creamery in New Gloucester, Maine, is part of a 5,000 acre educational farm and cross-country ski facility (among other outdoor recreational offerings). The farmstead creamery uses milk from the farm’s grass-fed (and artificial hormone-free) Holstein cows to produce cheddars, flavored Jacks, Swiss, feta and more. The two-year aged cheddar was nicely sharp. This may come as a surprise, but the cheese that really caught my attention was their Monterey Jack. A cheese I rarely give a second thought to, Pineland Farms’ version is just so milky and creamy that I hardly wanted to share it with the kids. (They enjoyed it in quesadillas, while I nibbled on those crispy bits of cheese that ooze out of the tortilla in the pan.)

We were also smitten with the feta, pictured below. It may not be a traditional feta in that it’s neither made from sheeps milk nor a product of Greece, but cows milk feta is often well-suited for cooking and can be a stepping stone for people who don’t (yet) appreciate a briny feta. This feta was, like the Jack, notably creamy and clean-tasting with a not-too-salty tang. I used it in a Corn and Feta Quiche that was a hit with the whole family.

You can find Pineland Farms cheeses in Whole Foods in the Northeast or Bloom/Food Lion stores along the East Coast.

(Feta is so in fashion that Culture magazine placed it on the cover of its spring issue; pick up a copy at your local cheese shop. We’ll surely be cooking with it more as summer approaches.)

What’s your feta style? Sheepy or bovine? Salty or creamy?

Disclosure: I received cheeses from Pineland Farms for the purposes of this review. No other compensation was received and all opinions are our own.

With apologies to Jill and our other Jewish readers, I must note that National Grilled Cheese Day is upon us again. Aside from filling the need for media outlets to fill up space, I’m not sure who decided that grilled cheese needed its own day. I mean, Passover excepted, every day is a perfect day for grilled cheese.

My favorite sandwiches require fresh produce that’s not in season yet, anyway — apricots and chevre, peaches and quark, fresh tomatoes with manchego, figs and blue cheese, and of course crisp apples and cheddar in the fall.

It’s easy enough to make at home (two things to remember: use butter, liberally, and grate the cheese), but here’s a montage of grilled cheeses I’ve loved around DC. Clockwise from top left, the pimento grilled cheese at Cheesetique, the Wonky grilled cheese at Eat Wonky (alas, no longer on the road), the Barely Buzzed from The Big Cheese, and the jamon y manchego flauta from José Andrés Pepe Food Truck.

Had a better grilled cheese around town? Tell us where!

If the cheese equivalent to Lay’s potato chips existed, it would be Bonne Bouche. It’s impossible to have just one taste – or one serving. The label on the box says one button serves four. Yeah, I don’t think so. It was hard enough to stop at half the 4-oz. round. I don’t think sharing with three other people is ever going to happen.

We’ve sung the praises of other Vermont Butter & Cheese creations before, and if it’s getting tiresome, well, tough! You can’t fault a cheesemaker like Allison Hooper for consistently turning out such top-notch cheeses. Like recent discovery Laurier, Bonne Bouche is an aged goat’s-milk cheese, but its calling card is its overcoat of vegetable ash that adds a delightful zippiness to each bite. While the interior of the cheese retains the freshness and texture of a young chevre, the edges just underneath the bloomy rind liquify as the cheese comes to room temperature. The combination of the bulging ooze, the slightly chalky paste and the zesty rind send Bonne Bouche over the edge. Seriously, challenge yourself to stick to a 1-oz. serving. I bet it’s never been done.

While the label suggests a glass of riesling and a few hunks of dark chocolate as a pairing, I’m more apt to celebrate this cheese’s superiority with a flute of bubbly – and the chocolate, of course, along with some dried mango or apricots. If you plan on joining me, bring your own button. I’m not sharing.

Terraluna: the cheese without a cheesemaker. Well, I assume someone had to make this yummy specimen, but no cheesemaker is listed on the Artisanal website where I purchased my wedge. That’s a shame, too, because I’d like to give credit to the person who crafted a sumptuous, raw-milk delight like Terraluna. Will the real cheesemaker please stand up?

Made from the milk of Jersey cows, Terraluna is often likened to a cheddar, but I found it to be very different from most of the cheddars I’ve enjoyed. To me, cheddar is a full-bodied, coat-every-tastebud-on-your-palate type of cheese, and Terraluna tasted quite delicate in comparison. While definitely not as salty as Seven Sisters, it has a similar summery nuttiness that made it seem very seasonally appropriate for this wildly mild spring we’ve had in Minnesota. Terraluna is hearty enough to anchor a cheeseboard and enjoy with an ale or lambic, but I’m more likely go with Max McCalman’s suggested pairing of a pinot noir and a selection of gourmet crackers.

If anyone has any hints as to Terraluna’s creator, let us know! We’d love to raise our glass of pinot and give a more formal salute to the person responsible for this beauty.

After a two-week spring break of sorts (meaning we busy moms hadn’t had much time for blogging), we’re back with perennial favorite and seasonal smash Winnimere. Yes, we have written about Winnimere before, but this cheese is so special and eagerly anticipated each spring that it deserves an annual post. Colleen and I both got our hands on a Winni wedge last week and found that not only does it have the ability to soothe a sore throat, but it’s impossible to consume any less than your full portion in one sitting. Imagine that.

I never got any Winni love last year, so the 2012 vintage tasted even more amazing – absence does make the heart grow fonder, you know. It was perfectly ripe when I brought it home from France 44 (marveling at its peak form, cheesemonger Song said she was going to take some home for herself that night), and a couple hours on the counter made it an oozy, boozy delight. Each dip of the spoon drew out a luscious, liquidy bite that harkened visions of barbecue, bacon (or how I imagine bacon tastes, since I don’t eat it) and bonfires. My husband walked by as I was savoring each spoonful and remarked how stinky it is. That’s right, honey, go on thinking that. I’ll keep all the Winnimere in the house for myself – except that I ate it all at once and am once again Winni-less. The 2013 version can’t arrive soon enough.