Cheese: Brique du Forez

Brique du Forez

Given the abundance of cheese France produces, I’ve decided to tackle the subject once a month in a series of posts that bring some of the lesser known cheeses, (at least outside the France borders) into focus.  Some cheeses have a complicated history which I try to boil down to what makes them unique and notable, and others simply developed from “farm cheeses” made to be consumed where they were produced.  Either way, “Cheese” gives me a chance to explore one of the gastronomic delights of France and justify my excursions to a cheese monger as “research”.  And the research can be oh, so grueling…

Cheese: Brique du Forez

Christophe noted a new cheese had been purchased when he opened the fridge this morning, “Whoa, not what I was expecting before my coffee”, he said taking a step back.  “What did you buy?”

Brique du Forez is a soft cheese, made from goat or sheep milk and sometimes mixed with cow’s milk.  Its form is notable: rectangular, 17 centimeters by 8 centimeters and 2.5 centimeters high.  The name, brique, comes from the form of its pine mold in which it is aged.   It is fabricated in Auvergne, Puy de Dôme, which is located in the central and rather cold part of the country.  Traditionally, it is made from raw milk, but like with many other cheeses, its producers are caving into market trends and creating a pasteurized version.

No considerable history on the cheese has been found, except for the fact that the fermentation process has been modified from pressure to the use of lactic curds over the last 20-30 years.

Its texture is creamy, soft and has a slightly hazelnut taste.

Ratatouille

Eggplant

So the question is, what do I do with all those tomatoes?  We can a lot, but one of my favorite summer dishes is ratatouille.  We have everything needed in the garden: sweet onions, zucchini, eggplant, and of course, tomatoes.  It was the first dish Christophe ever made me, and I swear to this day, no one makes it better.  When he told me he was making ratatouille that first time, I didn’t understand at all; it’s that whole accent thing.  He repeated the word over and over again, and then I finally had a light bulb moment and got it. (However, understand Jewelia Rowbear for Julia Roberts took a good hour.)

And, I have to be honest, before that moment, I never ate ratatouille before.  Growing up, we had more zucchini than we knew what to do with – zucchini bread, zucchini and tomato casserole, zucchini chocolate chip cookies, and zucchini chocolate cake – but we never ate eggplant.  I think if I was handed it as a child I wouldn’t have known what to do with it.  I grew up in a typical Mid-Western family; we had green beans, corn, and of course, zucchini.  In the winter, we ate potatoes.  Its funny how all that has evolved; I’m in a Mediterranean environment.  It’s super-hot, we eat late, and eggplant (2 varieties) is an everyday summer food.  Ratatouille anywhere else just wouldn’t be the same.  Yes, part of it is the vegetables are fresh from the garden, but the other part of it is location; the vegetables scream “Mediterranean” and not “Mid-West”.  I do miss a good ear of sweet corn freshly husked, boiled, and buttered, but I have an appreciation for new local comfort foods, that like that ear of corn, reflect the place and the people who live there. 

The 2012 Tomato Line-Up

I gave a run down last year on the tomatoes we planted, so I think it’s only fitting to give this year’s crop its props.  Here we go, in no particular order:

Gardener’s Delight:  (heirloom) Small and grows in bunches; very sweet.  They are also very productive.

Great White Beefsteak: (heirloom) Last year we got a plant from our neighbor, who thought she forgot seed them this year.  Luckily, she was wrong.  We have at least two in the garden.  Mild, sweet and has meat that can look like a peach.

Caro red: (heirloom) Another, “Opps, I forgot seed this”, but “wrong”!  We ate the first one last night and it was delicious.

Cornue des Andes:  (heirloom) Shaped like peppers, these tomatoes turn bright red and can be pretty heavy.  An excellent sauce and cooking tomato, but a little too mealy to eat raw.

Noir de Crimee: (heirloom) From the “purple” tomato family.  Excellent raw, thin skin, and lots of meat.

Prince Noir: (heirloom) Another purple tomato, but smaller than the Noir de Crimee. Rich and sweet.

Roma: Well-known Italian tomato use for sauces.  Many of my Roma seedlings got sick, so we only have two plants that I am fiercely coddling.

Russian: (heirloom) This is a very large, tasty, and juicy tomato.  These seedlings fared well, so we have many in the garden.

Beefsteak: Classic round, and red.  This doesn’t have as much character as some of the other tomatoes, but it works when mixed in sauces.

Tomatillos: This green Mexican tomato is used to make salsa verde.  I don’t like them raw in salads, which is how Christophe ate them until I came along.  They are very rustic and grow well with other plants.  I’ve never seeded them; they sprout from fallen fruit the previous year.

Pickle Infatuation

I know I’m being a bit single minded about this lately, but I can’t seem to get my mind off pickles.  Perhaps because it’s hot and I’m craving salty foods, or because they’re crunchy and I find they go great with a slice of ham and cream cheese, or because I get a quick blast of cold air from the fridge when I fish them out of the jar, but I’ve been doing nothing lately than thinking about pickles.  I’ve dreamt about finding new cucumber plants in the garden to make them, and I even bothered Facebook friends about them, extensively.  I have successfully made “ice box pickles”, but I decided I wanted pickles year around.  We normally travel state-side at Christmas for a few weeks, so we unplug the fridge and empty it of its contents.  (Which is not easy with Christophe, who loves having a full refrigerator.)  That of course means I sadly have to dump out any remaining pickle juice before I board the plane.

We only have two cucumber plants, so I have to use our cucumbers wisely. Christophe saw me come in the house last night with the four ripe cukes we had and shook his head saying, “So if I understand this correctly, all the cucumbers we have will be pickled?  What’s wrong with fresh?” 

The answer to that is: nothing.  Fresh cucumbers are great, but pickles are just better.  I’ve canned for years now and even though everyone says pickles are easy, I’ve worried about it.  Basically, I just wanted to get it right: a salty brine, a dill-garlic bite, and of course, the illusive crunch.  I completely over-studied the subject.  There are hundreds of pickles recipes out there. (I saw one that took over three days.)  There appears to be no exact science to it, but nothing is worse than a let-down for something you’ve waited for months to open.  The photos are what I’ve got to look forward to once 2013 rolls around. Undoubtedly, you’ll hear about when the jars are finally opened.  Until then, I’ve got my ice box pickles.  I just need to find a good excuse as to where all the sliced ham and cream cheese is going.

Morning Coffee

The garden.

This is where I had my morning coffee.  The sun had not yet pasted the mountain crest so it was cool outside.  I say “cool”, but that’s all relative.  It was only about 80 degrees (F).  I was the only person out and enjoyed the temporary solitude.  Even the birds were silent, except for a neighboring rooster, but he crows at all hours of the day.

I’m preparing for a hot day; August is making its presence clear: hot and bone dry.  While we are still reaping the benefits of the garden, I’m thinking ahead to fall and a welcomed change in the weather.

Homegrown

Ratatouille – all from the garden, of course.

As gardens are starting to go into full bloom, I’ve noticed more Facebook profile photos changing to photos of vegetables.  I’ve seen various photos of tomatoes, cucumbers, and even corn (clearly, a very rare oddity this year) grace my page as people share what they’ve been doing all summer.  Even more so, I’m seeing photos of what people are doing with all those fresh vegetables afterwards.  Pickles seem to be a favorite this year as one tries to handle an avalanche of cucumbers.  There’s also been a variety of tomato-basil salads, and a few adventurous lads have shared photos from their first jamming session – with delicious looking results.   Now, I don’t think this means the whole world has gotten up and gone granola, but I do think it shows a conscious effort to benefit from fresh and local products.  Honestly, a homegrown tomato does taste better than a supermarket one, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.  People are proud of what they grow and even prouder of their creativity in what they do with their products.  Canning, and complaining about the kitchen heat is popular, but those who are doing it are doing so willingly, and are very happy with the results.  Admiration is shared for those generations who’ve done this for survival, and even more so, a deep appreciation for modern conveniences such as a freezer.

It doesn’t mean the world is going to give up tomatoes in winter, but it does mean, and I’m making my own judgment here, that people enjoy making something from start to finish or from seed to plate, if you will.  I’m not starting an ecological or nutritional debate, but rather sharing an observation of trends.  People are growing gardens; it’s cheaper and better tasting, and not to mention, a lot of people clearly like getting their hands dirty.

Inspiration

Red Sweet Onion, Yellow Patisson, Tomatoes: Gardener’s Delight and Black Prince, Basil

I love this time of year; well, I love this time of year besides the blazing, unforgiving, and constant heat.  I can walk into the vegetable garden with no idea of what I’m making for lunch and I can fill my basket with almost anything I’d like and I’m back in the kitchen with a plan.  It’s more than just having a menu idea; the vegetable garden is a place where I find ideas about my life beyond the kitchen.  I often sit on one of the stone walls in the evening and try to take it all in: the garden, the surrounding mountains and forest, and the setting sun.  I hone my future plans and realize what ones are worth keeping and what ones need to be modified.  Perhaps because it is the only green space for the moment, the various colors, or the appreciation I get from watching my seedlings grow into plants that tower over six feet tall, but the garden is a place where I find my inspiration.  I learn more about who I want to be and how to be a better person.  It is constantly changing, and I hope me too, for the better.