Say Cheese - Recap

Alton begins in a video production room. Amidst clutter and sleeping members of the production staff, Alton reveals that he has amassed footage for a sequel of sorts to his earlier paean to cheese, which he hopes to call “Say Cheese”. He has at last finished this masterwork, and has discovered that it is... thirty hours long. There is only one choice: Alton will air the episode in several parts, starting with tonight's collection of short films that will shed light on Alton's favorite food – cheese, which is not only good, it's... Good Eats!

The first vignette describes the origin of cheese. According to it, a Bedouin traveling across the desert to sell chickens provisioned himself with a freshly tanned calf's stomach filled with milk. Hours into his trip, he reached for his milk and discovered that it was no longer milk! The motion of the cow, the heat of the desert, and a collection of chemicals called rennet found in the lining of the stomach had turned the milk into curds and whey. Fortunately, the Bedouin realized that what he had was actually better than what he'd started with... and cheese was born!

The next segment, “A Beautiful Rind”, finds Alton at a cheese shop. Here he confronts a shopper experiencing “cheese-lock”. So many choices confront her she has become paralyzed with indecision. In a wine shop one may obtain basic guidance by checking bottle labels for a preferred variety of grape, but even that scant guidance is denied the cheese shopper. There is, however, one thing Alton can recommend: look at the rind.

Hard and dense cheeses have very thick rinds that are sometimes waxed or oiled. Cheddar, Parmesan, Gruyère, and manchego are examples. Makers cut and press the curd before molding it, extracting most of the water. Aging removes much of the remaining moisture. These cheeses are often salty and usually have complex flavors. They grate well, making them suitable for inclusion in other foods, which brings Alton to the Cook's Warehouse, and a table on which is arrayed a wide assortment of devices designed to turn hard cheese into shavings or slices. There are dozens of choices, but Alton sees a need for only a few. One of them is a box grater with a wide base and slightly convex sides (this cuts down on surface friction). It has a sturdy handle and comes with a container in the base which can hold the grated product. Another is an eight inch chef's knife – it will go through most any cheese. For serving cheeses, Alton prefers ordinary butter knives, his last choice. And for the really hard cheeses? A clean screwdriver can crack them open.

Back in the kitchen, Alton discusses one of the hardest cheeses: Parmesan. He has the real stuff, made near Parma in Italy. It takes about seventeen pounds of milk to make a single pound of Parmesan cheese; makers age the cheese at least a year after production. Parmesan cheese has a nice granular structure that grates well, which is why most Americans have only ever seen it grated. Grated Parmesan works well on pasta and salad because of its sharp, distinctive flavor. But the unique protein structure of this cheese presents other options.

Protein being sticky by nature, Alton lines a half sheet pan with a silicone baking mat (parchment paper will also do). Then he sprinkles a tablespoon or so of grated parmesan around the mat, creating six little piles. He spreads these out a bit (the convex side of the spoon works for this) and flavors a few with paprika and black pepper. He slides the pan into a 375° F oven for ten minutes. The result is a delicious cheesy “cracker” that will set up nice and hard. Or, if molded around a “form” right out of the oven it may be shaped into a small bowl that can hold appetizers like meatballs or even small salads.

Alton next addresses the semi-hard cheeses, which typically have rinds of brown-orange or brown-gray. This family includes both rubbery textured and meaty flavored cheeses like Edam, and so-called washed rind cheeses like epoisses (made in a French village of the same name) and langres. The washed rind group gets its name from part of the manufacturing process: producers wash the cheese with a special brine that sets the texture and encourages the growth of specific bacteria.

Back in the kitchen, Alton stands before a pair of large pots. Here he explains for certain young runny cheeses like Brie and Camembert, Europe has an advantage; they can use high-quality raw milk. In the United States, the government permits the use of raw milk only for cheeses that age at least sixty days on the theory that sixty days is enough time to eliminate any serious pathogens present in the raw milk. Cheeses made here and aged for less than sixty days must be made from pasteurized milk.

Pasteurization is named for Louis Pasteur, who figured out that food spoilage was caused by microscopic organisms. Pasteurization uses heat to destroy these organisms. In slow pasteurization a temperature of 145° F for a half hour kills most everything while keeping much of the milk flavor intact. A temperature of 161° F (ultra-Pasteurization) can do this job in about fifteen seconds, at the cost of destroying nutrients, denaturing enzymes, and leaving the milk less than it was. But speed is essential in manufacturing, so that's the temperature most milk producers use. To get a young cheese made from raw milk, one could visit Canada, but returning with such a cheese might cause legal problems (Alton's alter-ego, the government man-in-black, dangles a pair of handcuffs).

For his next trick, a top-hatted Alton tries to coax a wedge of cheese to jump through a hoop to the accompaniment of a calliope, but sadly, he has no luck. Good thing he has a fall back trick: cheese soup! Cheese soup starts in a large vessel - a soup pot, dutch oven or large sauce pan. Alton also gathers a spatula and a strainer, and two appliances: an immersion (stick) blender, and an electric kettle.

Alton starts by pouring packaged (yes, packaged) chicken broth into an electric kettle to heat. While it warms, he adds butter to the large pot and then diced onion, diced carrots and diced celery with a pinch of salt. Like many soups, this one starts with a sweat. Five to ten minutes softens these vegetables nicely. When they are soft, Alton uses his strainer to evenly distribute flour onto them. He's making a roux, and that involves coating the flour grains evenly with fat. To do this Alton cooks the floured vegetables for a few minutes longer until the flour disappears. He adds the heated broth slowly, stirring as he does so, and then adds a bay leaf and some finely minced garlic. He lids the pan and lets that cook.

A half hour later, he returns and adds heavy cream, then uses a stick blender to mix everything until it is very smooth. Now the broth is ready for the cheese. Alton chooses a semi-hard cheese called fontina. He adds grated fontina a handful at a time, giving each handful a chance to melt. The cheese melts and cooks well but for the best results should be added slowly. Once the cheese is in, it is time for finishing flavors: marsala wine, Worcestershire sauce, a little hot sauce and white pepper. Why white pepper? Chiefly for reasons of presentation. It really differs from black pepper only in color.

Alton enjoys a bowl of his cheese soup with a glass of beer. Those who must store their soup should use a vacuum bottle; storing it over heat may make the soup grainy. For similar reasons, if soup must be reheated this should be done using a double-boiler and very gently.

Soft-ripened cheeses are up next. These usually come as disks, loaded with a mold called penicillum candidum. These cheeses retain so much of the milk's original moisture that they oozes. The group includes cheeses such as Brie and Camembert. Most are highly aromatic. Rinds in the United States are always white due to the use of pasteurized milk. In Europe the rinds are often reddish or brown because they use raw milk.

Alton turns his attention to cheese storage. It's best to think of cheese as a living thing with likes and dislikes as have other living things. It likes to be cool but not cold, it likes to be moist but not wet, and it likes to breathe. To meet these storage goals, Alton prefers the top shelf of his refrigerator, generally the warmest shelf in there (relatively speaking). He stores soft or aromatic cheeses in plastic boxes. These keep the funk from spreading around, and allow him to store a bit of damp paper towel or slice of apple with the cheese to contribute moisture. Alton wraps harder cheeses in waxed paper which he secures with a rubber band, never in plastic.

Before dining on any cheese, one should allow it to reach room temperature. Cold hardens the fat, which traps the aroma and flavors. When he serves cheese, Alton has no real rules, but he does have two suggestions. The first is never serve more than three cheeses at a time. More than three cheeses just creates a muddle. The second is to shoot for a theme. Examples he offers include three cheeses made from the same sort of milk, three examples of the same cheese from different creameries, three different cheeses of the same type (such as washed rind), and even three examples of the same cheese from the same creamery, but at different ages. Finally, one may serve just one cheese, but accompanied with one or two contrasting accompaniments. Plan on about a quarter pound of cheese for each diner, and provide a clean butter knife for each cheese.

Mold-veined cheeses (like Roquefort, Gorgonzola, and Stilton) are easy to recognize. They're dappled, striped or speckled by colonies of the molds that give them their distinctive flavors. Because these molds require air, creameries use long needles to create small channels in the cheese through which air reaches the molds. These cheeses range from soft to firm, and from mildly flavored to extremely flavored.

Fresh cheeses typically have no rind. Cream cheese, feta and cottage cheese are sold fresh – usually less than two weeks old when sold. Flavors range from weakly grassy to weakly citrus. Most spread well (brined feta being an exception). Some are rolled in ash, seeds or leaves before sale.

That brings Alton to his next cheese trick. For this trick, he clears out the chill chest of all the accumulated bits and pieces of cheese from recent weeks. Too old for a cheese party, they are not too old for another use: fromage fort. He brings a pound of leftover cheese to room temperature and removes any remaining rind. He grates really hard cheeses (such as Parmesan) and cuts others into cubes about ¾” on a side, before shoveling the cheeses into the bowl of his food processor. He follows them with a little white wine and a little unsalted butter (also at room temperature), a whole clove of garlic and a small handful of parsley. He spins that for a couple of minutes until it is nice and creamy, and – homemade cheese spread! Alton's not sure how long this lasts, because around his house folks eat it long before it can spoil!

Most people worldwide are lactose intolerant. They cannot digest the lactose in milk, and if they try, they get a painful stomachache for their trouble – as Lactose Man proudly crows. Alton offers the villain his stomach and invites him to take his best shot; moments later Lactose man is soaking his sore hand in ice water. The reason is that aged cheese has very little lactose. Bacteria consume the lactose during manufacture and aging. Even those with lactose intolerance can normally eat cheese.

Back in the production room, Alton hopes viewers have enjoyed what he's sure is the first of many shows devoted to cheese. He can't think of a food more deserving!

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