I am very
excited about these two cheeses, since they were totally unexpected, and if
they hadn’t literally been shoved into my face about a month ago, I would have
never have given either of them a thought. Both are farmstead cheeses, Sunset
Bay made from goats’ milk by River’s Edge Chèvre on Three Ring Farm in Oregon
and Ladysmith made from organic cows’ milk by Samish Bay Cheese on Rootabaga
Country Farm in Washington. The silliest part is that I’ve known about these
cheese makers for a while. Last year I bought River’s Edge Fresh Chèvre for
about three months until my local supply dried up, and Samish Bay Cheese has a
booth at several Seattle Farmer’s Markets. In my defense though, Sunset Bay
never makes it to Seattle, and Ladysmith is a relatively new cheese - in the
past all I noticed in the Samish Bay booth were wedges of cheese, vacuum-packed
in plastic. After I tasted these cheeses at Steve’s Cheese in Portland, I
searched for them in Seattle. No luck on the Sunset Bay, but Samish offers Ladysmith at the Farmers’ Markets, and they cut it to order!!!
Sunset Bay
was a complete surprise, and I almost turned down Steve’s taste. Bloomy rind
goat cheeses are not high on my list although I do love fresh Chèvre, wash
rind, and hard goat cheeses. As Steve described the layer of smoked paprika, I
gave it two more strikes - flavoring a cheese was bad enough, but flavoring an
American cheese with a smoked red pepper from Spain! He echoed my sentiments,
but pressed me to taste. Wow, it all worked. Pat Morford raises Alpine goats on
her farm in Oregon’s Central Coast Range. She sandwiches a layer of smoked Pimenton between layers of her creamy Chèvre, and
then coats the whole wheel with ash. It’s hard for me to decide whether I like
it more when the paste is still young and firm, or when it’s more mature and
runny. The light saltiness of the ash and the sweet, light smokiness of the
Pimenton add amazing counterpoints to the creamy paste with its lightly piquant
finish. It’s the first thing I think of for my morning toast, when I have it in
the fridge. It’s especially good with medium bodied white wines like dry
Semillon or Pinot Blanc.
Ladysmith
was an easier sell, especially when Steve showed it to me and said it was a
“fresh cheese.” Suzanne and Roger Wechsler keep a mixed herd of Jersey, Shorthorn,
and Dutch Belted cows on their organic farm in the Skagit Valley north of
Seattle. They started selling the fresh cheese at the end of last year, and I’m
really sorry I missed the introduction. The delightful aroma of tangy, cultured
butter caught me by surprise as I raised the piece to my mouth. The spreadable
cheese had a tangy, fresh milk burst on my tongue, with a hint of sweetness
before its long, lingering finish. It was creamy but also strikingly
refreshing. Its flavor and tanginess brought to mind the center of a freshly
made ball of buffalo mozzarella, and I just can’t wait for tomato season to
arrive to test out my theory with a salad of heirloom tomatoes, arugula,
Ladysmith, olive oil, and sea salt, or maybe I'll just put the salad into a warm baguette.