Appreciating Roquefort Cheese

My humble Wisconsin origins have not sufficiently prepared me for the smell and the taste of some of the sharpest, most pungent of French cheeses. Sure,  I've tasted ash-lined and algae-layered varieties; I didn't regret eating the raw milk cheeses, nor has the odor that comes with nearly all French cheeses stopped me from enjoying the dietary richness of such cheeses as the Camembert de Normandie.

Roquefort is another story: it is literally moldy. The cheese owes its existence to a boy leaving cheese in a cave only to return some months later to find it "deliciously" moldy (read the Wikipedia article). It has a distinguishing look, a strong taste and, not surprisingly, a pungent odor beyond any of the other cheeses I've tasted. 

Enjoying cheese is an essential part of French culture, I've observed; the French really enjoy the nearly 300 varieties of cheese for which their country is known, so I cannot live here without at least appreciating a cheese that I have until know avoided eating at dinner parties, at family gatherings, etc. 

My new year's resolution is to... appreciate Roquefort cheese. I will probably never love it, but the least I can do is eat it from time to time.

« Pays des 300 fromages »

I found a small booklet entitled "Prenez la route des fromages" in my apartment today. Inside, there is a list of cheeses from important regions such as Normandie and Auvergne, two regions I enjoy very much. I know nothing about their cheeses, even after having eaten them.

In our refrigerator, we have some Tomme Noir, a smooth cheese originating in the Alps. It is good on toast, in sandwiches or even alone. The fact is that I know so little about cheese after having lived in France for over a year is now starting to bother me. I must now be resolved to learn how to distinguish between the 350-400 cheeses comprising 8 or so categories. I must eat more cheese.