This Cheese Doesn't Suck: Pecorino Romano

Pecorino Romano is certainly the iconic hard grating cheese of Southern Italy.  Also know singularly as "Romano", this salty (Almost too much. But I really like it), kick-in-the-face tangy, sheep's milk cheese is widely known outside of its native region.  Sadly it seems most of what we are served as "Romano" here in the states is in fact not the real stuff.  In order to be true Pecorino Romano it must be made, get this, in the province of Rome.  Crazy right?  

Oddly enough you won't find this cheese much north of Rome where Parmigiano Reggiano rules the culinary world.  This relatively sharp divide in cheese preference really illustrates the cultural and habitual differences that exist in Italy.  

For a rather small-ish country we get the misconception that Italy is a single united culture.  The wild, sheepy,vegetal, peppery, dry crumble of Pecorino Romano, versus the refined crystaline, nutty, melted butter flavors of Parmigiano, subtly illustrate the complexity of culture and cheese making in Italy.  Although Pecorino Romano is used primarily state-side as a grating cheese, don't forget that it is a worthy table cheese on its own. Look for it in your local cheese shop as a beautiful pile of bone-white cheese or as a rustic 16lb cylinder with flaky black paint.  Its extreme salt and olive oil textures make it a delight to explore chunk by chunk. Be sure to pair it with a big, sumptuous, leggy red wine. 

 

This Cheese Doesn't Suck: 3 Month Manchego

The Cheese from La Mancha.  Three month aged Manchego is a prime example of Spanish cheese.  Made from the milk of Machega sheep, this cheese has a texture and flavor unique to its origins.

The particular fattiness of sheep's milk ensures a texture that is supple, springy under tooth, but not rubbery.  Really shining textually, as most cheese does, when eaten at room temperature.  The flavor profile is strong on the grassy olive oil note, with a good measure of piquant and clean lanolin-sheepiness on the finish.

 Three month Manchego is truly best when consumed in late fall and though out the winter.  Which means those wheels of cheese will have been made with the fattiest, richest milk from summer-autumn grazing.  Do it up right like a Spaniard with a sparkling glass of Cava and a slab of membrillo on the side. 

Bloody Mary Week: Classic B.M. w/Capricho de Cabra + Manchego Stuffed Olives

     As the cocktail train keeps rolling I realize that I should have labeled this "Garnish Week"  being that it's what I'm most excited about in these Bloody Mary's.  I am pretty stoked about today's offering.  
    What we have here is an olive stuffed with a mixture of Capricho de Cabra and One Year Aged Manchego.  That's right, I'm mixing milks here.  Goat Cheese + Sheep's Milk Cheese = Love (Forever).  I told you it would get crazy in here this week.  
    The Capricho is bright and balanced, with a touch of that familiar lemon zest of fresh goat cheese.  Meanwhile the Aged Manchego adds depth and fatty-earthy aroma.  Together they make my favorite stuffed olive yet.

 Olives w/Capricho de Cabra and 1 Year Aged Manchego

Pitted Olives

(Green works best with this variation)

Capricho de Cabra, plain

1 Year Aged Manchego

• Bring Capricho and Manchego to room temperature.  About 20 minutes out of the fridge.
• Drain and pat dry olives.
• Shred Manchego using a hand held cheese grater
• Mix 1 part Capricho with 2 parts shredded manchego
• To stuff the olive roll a pinch of the cheese mixture in the palm of your hand and gently poke it into the  olive. 
• To get the pretty "snowball" effect from the photos dip the large end of the stuffed olive into any remaining Manchego shreds.  This is also good for extra Manchego flavor.  

Enjoy!

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Summer Food.

Ricotta Salata w/Watermelon & Mint

It is summer.  It has been summer here in Colorado since mid-April.  Actually, it seems that most places in America hold this to be at least mostly true (80 degree days in march anyone?).  Potential catastrophic weather patterns aside, this heat brings out my longing for cliche, classic Americana, backyard barbecue food.  The kind that dyes my fingers with artificial colors, is slathered in pickle relish and eaten off of floppy paper plates that at some point will drop a huge glob of baked beans onto my sandaled feet.  Naturally at my behest The Guy & I have been unabashedly consuming burgers and brats (okay, so turkey burgers & andouille sausage on buns. because i must be fancy) this week.  

In the spirit of our "fancy" cook-out nosh I decided to whip up a cool little salad to take the edge off of the heat.  I managed through some combination of luck and wizardry to pick a watermelon that was both sweet and crunchy (i.e. perfect).  The cheese to pair it with was more of a no-brainer.  

The Ricotta Salata I used in this dish is really not the milky soft cows milk cheese that you buy by the tub at the grocery store.  This one is sheep's milk, crumbles readily (though it can be sliced with a good kitchen knife) and is much, much drier in texture.  It's flavor is milky, lightly animal, and brine-y.  Bringing to mind more of a whiff of seaside spray than salt-lick.  

I tossed the sweet cubed melon and Ricotta Salata together with a few sprigs of freshly plucked mint.  The sugary melon made the perfect salty/sweet pairing with the cheese. While the mint lent a high singing chill cutting through any extreme cloying or briney-ness in the salad.  

The overall result was the culinary equivalent of standing under a cool waterfall on a scorching summer afternoon.  The refreshment (and the going back for more) was never ending.