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Lynn Deasy is a freelance writer, author, foodie, and garden tinkerer. She lives in a 600 year old house in southern France with her husband, Christophe. Currently, she is looking for a literary agent for her memoir CA VA? STORIES FROM RURAL LIFE IN SOUTHERN FRANCE which examines the oddities of French provincial living from an outsider’s point of view through a series of adventures that provide more than a fair share of frustration, education, admiration, and blisters…. yes, lots and lots of blisters. Lynn blogs every Monday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Cheese: Cantal

Cantal is a pressed, mild semi hard cheese made from unpasteurized cow’s milk.  It comes from the Cantal region of France, which is centrally located and is about 2/3 way down the country.  It is believed to be the oldest cheese in existence and there is evidence to that dating back to the 1st Century.  It holds the AOC or Appellation d’Origine Controlée title, which means it needs to be made within a certain region.
Cantal cheese is firm, and depending on its age, very mild.  It has three distinct categorizes:

·         Cantal jeune (aged 1-2 months)
·         Cantal entre-deux or Cantal doré (aged 2-6 months)
·         Cantal vieux (aged more than 6 months).

The best way I can describe the difference between the aged cheeses is to compare this to the terms “mild” and “sharp” used for cheddar.  “Mild” is just that; it is creamy and soft on the palette.  A young Cantal, or Cantal jeune is nutty, sweet, and milky in flavor.  A “sharp” cheese has more of a bite, almost astringent, and has a distinct character, just liked a Cantal vieux.
            There is also a Tomme version of this cheese, which is an unaged Cantal and used in aligot, a very popular mash potato dish rich in cheese.  The dish is unique in the sense that it is often made in giant pots stirred with wooden paddles for a large amount of time to obtain the desired consistency.

1 comment:

  1. When I was young, I went to France for a (very) brief homestay. The mother served aligot (although she didn't prepare it in a giant pot) one night, and I fell in love not only with its taste, but also with its fascinating texture. I miss that.

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