blessed are the cheesemakers

Although we’re a little late for this season with first Advent last Sunday already (I suppose that necessitates that we’ll just have to eat extra morsels to catch up) and as the finished kit won’t be ready until next Christmas—via Bored Panda, there are instructions on how to make a cheese Advents calendar of one’s own. That sounds perfectly delectable and preferable—at least to my wizened old palette—to chocolates. I know quite a few fancy delicatessens and fromageries that could pull together some truly gourmet ways to count down to the holidays. What would be your daily treat?

cocktail hour

Discerning gourmand Nag on the Lake had two successive food and drinks posts that paired very well together indeed. First, there were the exquisite still-lives of artist Greg Stroube who imagined how the Renaissance masters might depict a Bloody Mary or a Lime Rickey with all its garnish and the hyper-realistic detail of Bellini (also the name of a cocktail, Prosecco and peach nectar) or Vermeer.
These delights of and for the palette are then served up with a selection of sumptuous recipes from the mind of Salvador Dalí from a cookbook being reissued over forty years after its first and only print run. The surreal and bizarre cult cookbook called Les Diners de Gala has over a hundred illustrated recipes—of the strange and decadent variety, like toffee and pinecones or frog pastries. Be sure to indulge more delectable delights on Nag on the Lake.

smoke-screen or homo habilis

Just as a tolerance for dairy afforded some populations an advantage over their neighbours in more recent epochs, an early mutation in humans may have privileged them over their hominid competition. As Mysterious Universe informs via Strange Company, Neanderthals may have been quite literally smoked out by humans who could far better handle the ill pulmonary effects of cooking and keeping bonfires for warmth, light, staving off predation and perhaps rituals. Our view of our extinct cousins is generally a dim one, but gradually we are being disabused of a lot of these primitive stereotypes, including the discovery that most all modern humans have a small percentage of stowaway DNA fossilised within us as a reminder that we once shared our society.
It strikes me as a little ironic that this respiratory robustness may have been responsible for humans pulling out ahead, while there’s such incapacitation and moral panic over air-pollution, asthma and allergies—external and self-imposed. I wonder if those bits of cavemen genes (though a very small component of our total genetic makeup, the traits that we’ve inherited are different from one individual to the next) aren’t responsible for our collective frailties. Maybe our ancient ancestors got help from other sources as well.

still life with wine and cheese

An interesting meta-analysis from Cornell University of over half a millennium of food and drink in art—without even the need to repair to the food-selfie iteration of the still life—reveals that we’ve always had a penchant for the exotic and indulgent and much more likely to capture that in portraiture—or as a social snapshot, rather than every day fare. With license, certain subtle messages were encoded with the spread that appears on the table and this in depth study is an appetising reflection of how tastes evolved over time and even, through the lens of the Last Supper, how portions have grown. Take a look at the gallery of artfully arranged meals for yourself to better understand what the statistics and trends disclose.

on top of spaghetti

Via the ever-intrepid Atlas Obscura, we find out that American stockpiles of cheese and other dairy-products are at the highest level in three decades, thanks to a coalition of factors that have glutted the market with European imports to the detriment of domestic products.
I don’t feel that this is an imbalance something like the dreaded TTIP would solve to either party’s satisfaction, as you cannot punish an exporter for making (and we’re partial) a superior product, from cows whose welfare is better looked after. Perhaps the US Dairy Council just needs to get more aggressive in their campaigning and make Wisconsin Colby the new bacon, a flavour touted almost as a condiment for all those years, or craft-beers or the backlash against the anti-gluten leagues.

cheese it, the mads are calling!

Although never wholly out of sight and out of mind with projects like Cinematic Titanic and live-shows in the years since Mystery Science Theater 3000 went out of syndication, there has never been a reunion event to get the all the Mads and their hapless experimental subjects back together again. As Mental Floss happily reports, they’ll be on stage late this summer but tickets are going on sale shortly. In case you are curious, the name of this blog is an homage to players of MST3K.

le fromage, la légende

Via the ever-inspiring and inspired Nag on the Lake, we are treated to a very fine monograph on the limestone caverns of Roquefort-sur-Soulzon in the Aveyron region where the legitimate and right-honourable king of cheeses is cured, in accordance with age-old methods.

A particular mould that thrives in the soil of these caves—Penicillium roqueforti—creates the blue veins and imbues the distinctive taste, and prior to the isolation and understanding of penicillin, the cheese was used as a salve by local shepherds to promote the healing of wounds and stave off infections. Although remarked upon by Roman naturalist and historian Pliny the Elder and prehistoric cheesemakers’ sieves have been found in the caves, local lore has it that a young shepherd enjoying a repast of bread and sheep cheese was beguiled by the sight of a beautiful maiden, and stashing his meal in a cave (and apparently abandoning his flock for the requisite months it takes to transform plain ewe-cheese into Roquefort) and pursued her. The shepherd returned empty-handed and retrieved his remembered lunch, eating it in spite of the mould. Reading the article reminded me how back in 1999, le Roi de Fromage was embroiled in a heated-tariff war when the US imposed an impossibly high “Roquefort tax,” duties on French exports in retaliation for the country’s stance against hormonally beefed-up beef and against malbouffe—fast-food culture, in general.

soup-and-sandwich syndicate

For a few years, we’ve had one of those sandwich-makers to take camping with us, but having received a “panini-press” for the holidays, we’ve aspired to create some soup and sandwich combinations for indoors as well. Lately, we tried Cheese and Leek soup with egg and cheese toasts.

For the soup, ingredients for four bowls call for:

• Salt, pepper, parsley, bay-leaves nutmeg for seasoning
• 100 millilitre (about half a cup) of dry white wine
• Six slices of wheat bread for toasting and for the croutons 
• A heaping tablespoon of flour
• Butter
• 100 gram (4 oz) container of heavy crème 
• 1 litre (4 cups) vegetable stock from bullion 
• Around 600 grams (about a pound) of leeks, washed, peeled and cut into thin rings 

For the toast:

• Bread and butter from above
• 2 eggs 
• Sliced cheese (Gouda or Gruyère) 
• Spinach leaves or lamb’s lettuce (Feldsalat) 

There’s no cheese left out of the cheese soup, of course, but that’s where it gets a bit tricky. In German markets, there’s Schmelzkäse that’s made for soup and I suppose it’s like the pasteurized processed cheese food that’s available in the States, but looks some much less estranged from natural cheese and is much more appetising. In any case, use about 500 grams of your local-equivalent. In the soup pot, braise the rings of leek in butter for three minutes, dusting the leek with the flour afterwards. Introduce the white wine, vegetable stock with the bay leaves and allow it to cook on low heat for another ten minutes or so. Remove the bay leaves and breaking the cheese product of choice into small cubes, add that and the heavy crème to the pot and allow to cook for an additional ten minutes, stirring often and making sure that the cheese is melting. In the meantime, cut two slices of the bread into little cubes and braise them in butter in a separate pan (you can save the pan for the eggs) for about three minutes until crisp and set aside on a paper-napkin to dry. Prepare two eggs sunny-side-up and in your sandwich-maker/pie-iron/panini-press, make the toasts with the egg, cheese slice and leafy green filling—sort of like a croque-monsieur. Season the soup with nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste and garnish with croutons and parsley.

rarebit or why do we call them comics

Atlas Obscura presents a really fascinating essay that deconstructs a constellation factors that make up the hallmarks of modernity through the lens of a turn of the century comic strip that centres around midnight-snack, indigestion fuelled nightmares with the blame laid squarely on an “imported” (the focus seems to be mostly from an American perspective as the caricatures were but is surely of a universal character since internationally people were experiencing similar cultural shocks) delicacy called “Welsh Rarebit,” basically cheese-toast soaked in beer as a sort of hair-of-the-dog ballast for late-night revellers.
Assiduously, Winsor McCay, under the consultation of his series “Dream of the Rarebit Fiend,” documents the development of rather Freudian fantasies as carried out in the restive slumber of the indignant, whose psyche and drives might be explained mechanically as an assault by cheese as heartburn. Far from funny, at least to contemporary viewers—much like a lot of the reserve content of the funny pages—McCay portrays secret and vengeful scenes that one would rather not disclose, lest one shows his or her vulnerabilities and suppressed desires. As easily, however, people were willing to adopt a litany of compromise to gain modern conveniences—the electrified dwellings that invited staying up through the night, the logistical coordination that allowed people to live in growing urban-settings (to cultivate such routines and support surplus consumption), I believe that the illustrator though that his readership could recognise that something other was driving this feeling of being unsettled besides just alcohol and cheese, unlike the spectre of Jacob Marley who was initially dismissed as a spot of gravy gone bad. Such fiendish behaviour reflected perhaps made the world more receptive to adopting new customs and paradigms, like the psycho-analysis and other accommodations (and necessary back-lash) that came in its wake. Check out the thesis for further details and panels. Turophiles, what do you think?

6x6

op-art: 8-bit watercolours of classical masterpieces

annual: the year in pictures as captured by the official White House photographer

waschbär: little raccoon wets a piece of cotton candy only to have it dissolve

perfect for beaufort cheese: Alpine village is being powered by left-over whey

expatriate: one American candidacy is becoming awful diplomacy abroad

umschlag: author and illustrator Edward Gorey’s whimsically decorated correspondence

caseus formatus

Although I was quite proud of my handiwork with a periodic table of cheeses, though incomplete, I also find this infographic by Pop Chart Labs to be a pretty keen way of representing the casein continuum as well. A gourmet or connoisseur of cheeses has the funny sounding designation of turophile—from the Greek τυρός (τυρί), cheese, which while sounding different from the familiar formaggio, fromaĝo, fromage, Käse or queso but compare the word for butter, βουτύρου, literally cows’ cheese and suggestive of the turning and churning of the process.

curdling

After several decades of speculation—reverting to staple theories of bacteria or nibbling mice in the mix, researchers have determined why what’s classed as Swiss cheese was traditionally riddled with “eyes” but has now more or less become “blind” (in cheese-talk). The lack of the characteristic holes does not affect the flavour of course but their source was an enduring mystery—until, that is, the holes started to disappear. It was not the fermenting agents, however, that carved out these voids but rather other impurities, like splinters of hay, in the customary wooden milking buckets that have been employed for centuries. In fact, it was not really until modern times that the holes were considered desirable at all and cultivated as something of a trademark for foreign markets.  With processes becoming more automated and sanitary, however, large holes are not likely to develop.

five-by-five

tron, troff: vector map that renders cities as if out of the film Tron 

milk’s for babies: a look how cheese and tolerance to dairy changed the world

sky hostess: gorgeous vintage collection of stewardesses in uniform, via Neat-o-Rama

phoenix: from out of the rubble, a show-and-tell of San Francisco rebuilding and reinvention after the great quake

digital syndicate: a roundup of podcasts to peruse

five-by-five

exfoliate: make your own day-spa lady cheese and dip platter

mannerism: artist Matthias Jung creates beautiful architectural collages

landmark or bats in the belfries: cute series of animals posing as skyline familiars


psyc 101: some heuristic psychological hacks safe to try at home

singing telegram: tweets presented as antique wireless messages 

curds and whey

Here is an incomplete Periodic Table of cheeses. I only made it as far as the transitional cheeses and realised that I probably should have undertaken my method of classification in a more scientific manner to be useful. I started with base ingredients, hoping to end with hardness but I exhausted recognised varieties. Perhaps someone better organised can finish this project with this blank template of the classic layout of the periodic table or create their own system for items that demonstrate characteristics and predictability that can be fit into this format or quiz one selves on the elements that actually belong in this chart. Perhaps even someone could incorporate other basic properties, like wine-pairings.

hard-currency

When my mother and I were together for the first time in Germany, we were bemused by the profileration of what we called cheese-banks, Sparkasse—saving cheese (Käse, we thought). It turns out, via Oddity Central with a bonus report from the BBC, there are such institutions in the Parmesian producing region of Italian, at least, which will larger wheels of cheese as collateral for loans to local businesses at a nominal interest-rate, including a fee for storing their assets in conditions where they will mature properly.

who moved my cheese?

Doubtless the governments of Cyprus, Portugal and Spain will accept the extra funds and for the latter the extended repayment periods offered coming out of the summit in Dublin, but in a rare moment of clarity—though mostly ignored I think as disingenuous, there was a lament by the recipients that more money is not what the beneficiaries need in this crisis. It is possible to throw good money after bad, but no one is going to turn down generosities, even when they might lead to greater sorrows later. The plaintive alternative requested was instead for more administrative flexibilities in managing the assets they have, reforming leadership, regulation and enforcement with but not around those initial life-lines before being presented with overtures of more—with new terms and conditions.

This preposterous suggestion, dismissed, made me think of this scholarly interview from Der Spiegel’s International desk examining the rise of anti-German sentiment across Europe over the euro and re-packaged austerity. It is a difficult and probing question, but I think, from these latest rounds of renegotiation, the public protests are a reflection in part at least of frustration that little flexibility—the structural might that Germany appears to have and seems to influence the body politic, that’s not accorded to the people equitably. Unfortunately, more credit does not equal a measure of determined reform, despite similarly deferred wishes for greater alignment.

lobbyland or don't mess with the cheeses

European Corporate Observatory, which reports on fraud, abuse and the revolving door arrangement between government and business in the EU parliament, is trying to continue to raise awareness on this sometimes situation rank with hypocrisy and lobbyism that’s reached a dangerous point concerning food and the agricultural industry.
The EU Food Safety Authority (EFSA), a supranational organ that can dictate, among other thing, whether France gets to extend its moratoria on GM crops or Germany can continue to label its food as organic (Bio) or otherwise or if certain additives can enter into the food- chain, has a full complement of agribusiness advocates on its staff and threatens to relax restrictions and safeguards further. The EFSA will hold its annual conference and draft new rules at its base of operations the city of Parma, purveyors of fine hams and cheese, who has seen its domestic industry shocked by not just the peddled austerity in response to economic crises but also by a strong earthquake not so long ago. I am sure the venue appreciates the ceremony on some level, but this just further illustrates how austerity and tough-times are just code for opportunities for business to acquire something that’s usually not for sale on the cheap. Appointed representatives are not like our bodies, which generally demonstrate more intelligence than each of us and can adapt and even thrive despite our worst efforts, and ignoring what the politicians settle on is definite to our peril.

colophon

Mostly I tend to think that one should not mess too much with an established look, no matter how basic it is since it’s a part of one’s identity and recognition—although polishing and experimentation within limits, I think is perfectly acceptable.

We’re presented with pretty good and serviceable templates for use, and I suppose too that there comes a point of departure, best taken in small steps mostly, when one becomes a bit more sophisticated and curious with web-design to take strokes at something more than the standard quiver. 

Even if that’s just a bit of kerning and alignment that’s otherwise too subtle to notice. I wouldn’t want PfRC to become too busy and crowded and would like for the page to look sleek and composed. I am getting a little better—or perhaps just more conscientious, about placement and position and hopefully too making positive progress on having the patience and taking the time to fully unwind a thought, which still some times comes across probably as obtuse and obscure.

Content and scope aside, I did want to develop a nice new masthead that worked with the background as it is, nothing very ornate and overpowering but something a little more personal and unique. Matching the weight and character of a typeface to the idea (or lack thereof) that one has in one’s head can grow challenging enough on its own, and I respect those type-setters and artists who can turn out something very professional and know what tools to use with instinctual prowess, but try to add a cohesive image to that and I can certainly see why marketers, free-lance and consortiums, are vying for bids and commissions.

I am also learning why they say imitation is the purest form of flattery, though being derivative is usually asymmetrical. Though after some searching for inspiration and trying on own to conjure up something original and associative, I eventually settled on incorporating a logo from the Independent Wine-Makers of France (Vignerons indépendants de France), since wine and cheese go together, although there are plenty of other good pairings too.

In the process, however, I stumbled across plenty of motivating artwork and posters of a certain vintage and style, like the series on California cultivars (which incidentally replenished a significant portion of French stocks when the parent vines were killed by a blight in the 19th century; these vineyards then took decades to recover from the wanton neglect of the Prohibition Era themselves).

There were also several classic travel posters and campaigns that incorporated local, regional cuisine with allure, providing some good ideas and nostalgic impetus that will be certainly worth revisiting later as well.

appellation d'origine controlee and prussian blue

 Unlike Roquefort cheese, Champagne from Champagne, Dijon mustard, and dozens of other regional delicacies and specialties, Bavarian Obazda (also known as Obatzter, Angebatzter, Gerupfter in Franconia or as Gmanschter in Switzerland) was not awarded the proprietary protections of a geographical viticulture designation by the German courts. This spicy cheese spread is certainly unique and a signature Brotzeit dish--however, I like the fact that it was also ruled that it cannot be copyrighted. Too many things are overly-litigious as it is, without affording food and drink a court-appointed attorney and though imitators will be opportunists, distinction and quality are usually self-regulating.

Tradition, like the Reinheitsgebot (legally enforceable) and secrecy, as with the German chemists and dye-makers or Venetian mirror-makers or authentic charter house Chartreuse, whose blend of herbs is only known to two monks, forms a process with checks and balances, rather than monopolization--renown is not exclusivity, and a better model than relying on trolling and cartels. Family recipes, handed down, though there is a shift to jealously guard collections once shared under a gettization scheme, creation and experimentation should not be hindered by the letter of the law when it usual fails to keep the plaintiff undiluted in the first place.