A Lesson on Swiss Fondue

Having recently returned from her native Switzerland, my friend Anne invited our friend Stephen and me over the other night for a traditional Swiss Fondue. The weather, cold and miserable, set the perfect scene for gathering around a warm pot of melted cheese.

"There are as many recipes for fondue as there are people!" Anne told us. Hers is a family recipe for Fondue Moitie-Moitie (or "Half-Half"). The "half-half" refers to the cheese mix, which is half Vacherin Fribourgeois and half Gruyere. This mix, Anne explained, is not only classic in the region of Fribourg from which she comes, but it lends the dish its perfectly smooth texture and flavor.

She was kind enough to share the recipe below along with some key pointers. It is written for one serving, but, with the exception of the cornstarch, should be scaled up as necessary. It's no fun to eat fondue alone!

Ingredients:
1/4 pound per person Vacherin Fribourgeois, coarsely grated
1/4 pound per person Gruyere, finely grated
1/4 cup per person dry white wine, Swiss if you can find it
1 scant tsp cornstarch (optional)(scale up conservatively, ie. use 2 tsps for 4 people)
1 whole clove garlic, cut in half

Technique:

1. Rub a caquelon*, or heavy pot, with halved garlic and discard clove. (For a stronger garlic taste leave clove in pot.) Turn heat on to medium.

*A caquelon is an enameled cast iron pot with a stubby handle that is especially suited to fondue. If you don't have your own caquelon, use a pot heavy enough to distribute the heat evenly.

2. Mix cornstarch and wine and add to pot.

3. Add grated Gruyere and slowly mix in. When nearly melted, add Vacherin in small amounts, stirring constantly.








4. Continue stirring over medium heat for three to five minutes until thickened and smooth.










5. Take pot to table and place over a low heat source. Serve with large bites of crusty white bread (day-old works best) and freshly ground black pepper. (To answer Kendra's earlier question, the Kirsch may be added directly to the pot, or kept aside in a glass and dipped into on the way to the fondue pot.)




6. The rest is pretty self-explanatory: with a long fork, dip into the pot and stir vigorously until your bread is soaked with cheese. (Careful not to lose your piece in the pot, as by tradition you're then required to buy the next round.) Twist any lingering strings of cheese around the fork as if twirling pasta.

Enjoy with good friends and plenty of dry white wine!

Will work for cheese

Patricia and Eric Lefebvre, Fromagerie de Paris

My last 10 days in France were to be spent in Paris visiting cheese shops and, with any luck, working in one for several days. Although an unconventional approach to continuing education, I thought it would be worth a try. I'll save you the depressing details of rejection. The conclusion: no work for Kendra. The responses varied from the very abrupt, "No one enters my cave! And no photos!" to the more gentle, "I'm sorry, but I have too many appointments already." Dommage. For those shops not allowing any photos, I took the liberty of lingering a while so as to create a memory. I'll refrain from bitterly naming the shops offering the more coarse rejections (although I will say they are among the more famous.) On a brighter note, however, there was one gem that made the entire Parisian sejour worthwhile. La Fromagerie de Paris on rue Charenton is run by the oh-so-friendly and welcoming Patricia and Eric Lefebvre. Upon my first visit (they at least considered letting me work there) they regretted not having an aging cave to show me, but directed me to the fromagerie of Alain and Marie Quatrehomme. It was here that I received the gentler of rejections, although you can't say I didn't try my hardest. While I did not get to see an aging cave or get to work in a shop, I still learned a few things to pass on:

1. Paris changes fast. The majority of recommended and published cheese shops ahd already shut down or moved. I highly recommend a long distance phone call before your trip, if you plan to visit them. This will save you many euros in metro tickets to get all over the city.

2. The verdict on Brie: According to Patricia Lefebvre, and I trust her authority on the matter, Brie is eaten at peak ripeness, creamy and soft, in Paris. Everywhere else in France, it is eaten before this creamy state, firm and, in my opinion, lacking that 'umph' in flavor. This would explain the firm Brie I had in Belfort.

3. Just as Paris's local business climate changes with the tide, so do the EU laws on food. All the "I don't know"s from previous blogs rest as so, since it is so difficult to keep up with them as they change. Why can't our American cheese laws change?! Bring in the fresh raw-milk cheese please!

All in all, the trip afforded me many surprises--disappointing and equally exhilarating. If you plan to take a trip to Frane in the future, feel free to contact me for suggestions on restaurants, sites, cities, and other things. And if you ever need an interpreter to accompany you of a French food extravaganza, my bags are packed!

Cheers!

A Visit from the Veldhuizens

Yesterday was a great day at the market because we were joined by Stuart and Connie Veldhuizen, the cheesemakers who make all of those fine raw milk cheeses in Dublin, TX.

Having just stepped off a cruise ship in Galveston, they looked tan and happy, and repeatedly mentioned that they still felt the waves rocking the ground beneath their feet.

Since they arrived in the middle of a rush, all I could do was hand Stuart a hunk of Paragon and a knife. He immediately jumped into cheesemaker-mode, offering samples to the crowd along with all sorts of interesting information about cows, raw milk cheesemaking, and the importance of good grass. A number of Veldhuizen loyalists were there to show their appreciation, and first-timers stood in thrall. I wish we had pictures of the action, but we were frankly too busy to take them.

As they were leaving I told them that I hoped they felt loved, and Stuart explained how when they were just producing milk for the co-op they would only get feedback if there was something wrong. As cheesemakers, they get to hear how much their hard work is appreciated.

Thanks to all of you who came out to let them know that it is!

And thanks also to a world-class stand-in Dairymaid, Doris Scott (aka Kendra's Mom).

Old School Production

A Lesson in Slow Food:

The last day in the mountains led us to an even smaller production facility. Marion, the ever generous and knowledgable hostess, arranged for us to tag alongside and elementary school field trip of one of the only cheesemaking facilities still adhering to the age-old hand and teeth tradition. When we arrived (late of course) at La Combe Laisia, Thomas, an ex-wine-seller from Dijon was already busy cutting the curds in a large copper cauldron for gruyere. After trekking past the barn, mounds of cut grass for fodder, and piles of mud, we entered the cheesemaking room and also travelled back in time a few hundred years. In an effort to bring back the missing human link one sees nowadays with technology, La Combe Laisia has stuck with tradition quite impressively.

After about 30 minutes of hand-churning, Thomas set up the mechanical churner--the kids were getting a bit ansty, so it was time to change things up a bit. All milk here is pasteurized, for the facility does not exactly meet the EU's modern standards of production. La Combe Laisia was given the green light to continue making and selling cheese thanks to Monsieur Pasteur. For the pasteuriwation, the cheese is brought to 52°c by way of wood fire. This takes a good while, so the kiddos are sent to see the cows. I linger to talk with Thomas.

My questions about pasteurization and EU laws seemed very American to hm at first, as he, and just about every other cheese person in France, think Americans possess an unfounded and "idiot" fear of raw milk. I tried to explain that I and others in the U.S. did not agree with FDA laws in place. I guess in countries where voices are heard and votes count, it might be hard to understanc the disparity between U.S. laws and certain American thought. Understandable. Once Thomas understood my position, things eased and information flowed with less hostility.

In an effort to truly educate people of the cheesemaking process, La Combe Laisia--also organic--keeps things slow and simple so as not to miss a step. Excellent for me as I even have difficutly explaining where vegetable ash comes from to inquiring customers. When I asked Jean-Paul at the previous fruitiere, he responded with a dumbfounded, "We buy it." Yes, I know, but how is it made? It remains a mystery, as he did not have an answer for me. At La Combe Laisia, I saw everything, including the source of rennet, the enzyme added to the milk to make it separate. Thomas told me that they might buy the rennet (let me clarify: buy the baby cow's stomach to then make the rennet), but a neighbor that had recently slaughtered a calf for consumption was kind enough to give them the stomach. He pulled a plastic shopping bag off the hay-laden floor in the hallway and showed me the fresh stomach. He then showed me a dry stomach that he would cut into 30 1" x 1" pieces to add to a jar of whey, which would then ferment and become, voilà, rennet. Whew! This is slow food folks.

Thomas cutting the dried calf stomach for rennet

When the kids returned, it was time to finish the cheese. Thomas took the caldron off the fire, prepared the wooden mold and cheese cloth, and proceeded to drain the whey with a sieve and pump.

Once most of the whey had been drained, Thomas took the cheese cloth, one side held above whey and curd by his teeth, and slid it under the curd at the bottom of the pot. Teeth and fists, he lifted the curd, put it on a pully, and moved it to the mold. Through this whole process, whey drains into a bucket. After one turn of the cheese, the tour was over. After we left, there was still more turning, draining, and salting to do, as well as months of aging before it would be edible. And the taste? Delicious.

Medium Scale Production

Organic Production in the Jura:

On a much smaller scale, I found (Marion took me to) an organic cheesemaking facility--fruitière biologique. For this visit, I'm sure mostly due to having Marion with me, I was able to have a closer look at the production facility. Arriving after 5 p.m., there was no cheesemaking to see and I was too early for the 7:30 p.m. delivery of milk. For this facility in Chapelle du Bois, all milk comes from the farmers in the town, all of which meet the guidelines for earning not only the AOC distinction, but also that of being organic. Jean-Paul Blandot, one of the farmers, gave me a detailed and humble tour of the facility. It harkened memories of our small, dedicated Texan cheesemakers. Jean-Paul continually insisted that I would not be interested in seeing the facility, no production to see, no innovative technologies, nothing of interest to me. It was all I could do to express that every bit of worn-and-torn secondhand vats, chipped tile, and fluorescent-lit caves brought more excitement than ten Eiffel Towers. I think he got the point eventually. More than anything, I was happy to meet Jean-Paul and see the facility for I could sympathiwe and get behind the operation. I've got a special place in my heart for the small guy persevering from passion and integriy. I also gfelt a bit at home, pulling for our small production facilities in Texas offering a product of quality rather than convenience.

However, even the small producer is still pretty big. They had 4 caves, one of which was being phased out for it consisted of plastic walls, which do not allow for proper control of air flow or huumidty. Farmers did not want their milk-turned-cheese in there, and stores did not want it either. Hence the three new caves, which housed Comté and Morbier. Due to a lack of space for the amount of cheese they produce, not all of the cheese is aged to the point of sale here. It might stay for a few months, after which wheels are sold to stores and arffineurs throughout France where they will finish the aging process.

The new cave for Comté

After the tour, Jean-Paul invited me back to his farm to see the cows and witness the delivery of the milk. I regrettably had to decline as the dinner hour had arrived and I had about an hour drive to the bottom of the mountain to find food before the stores closed. Despite the missed opportunity, I'm still willing to sacrifice convenience for quality.

Me and Jean-Paul