There is a new book coming out by an old professor of  mine, Jay Parini, entitled Promised Land: 13 Books that Changed America.  It isn’t a book about the books of the highest literary merit but about the most influential books that have changed our society.  I’m intrigued by this idea because the short list isn’t entirely high-brow, Dr. Spock is on there, as is Jack Kerouac.  The Great Gatsby isn’t even in the honorable mentions, but Jane Fonda’s workout manual is.

What if we thought about the 13 most influential cheeses to the American palate.  Not the most outstanding or well made or even most interesting (though some may very well be all of these things) but the cheeses that have decided what Americans want on their cheese plates and their burgers.

1. Mozzarella
2. Kraft Singles
3. Cabot Cheddar
4. Parmeggiano Reggiano

…really 13?

1. Aged Gouda
2. Gorgonzola
3. Fresh Chevre (probably with something, like herbs or honey or nuts)
4. Eppoise
5. Ricotta
6. Poll-yo String Cheese
7. The Laughing Cow (wax covered round)
8. Stilton
9. Pecorino Romano

And here in that same order, briefly are the reasons why:

1.      Pizza.
2.      Convenience, grilled cheeses
3.      Actual flavor, sharp, simple, seems damn classy
4.      Over your spaghetti and meatballs.  Often comes in a cheap shaker, a true American        original copy
5.      A burst of flavor, no subtleties here
6. Gooey stinky an obvious introduction to blue
7. Goat cheese but G rated.
8. We’ve all read about it.  In GQ.  It must be good.  Righht?
9.  Sweet, a topping, almost like milk.
10. Lunchbox.
11. Ibid.
12. Guinness.  Port.  Booze.
13. Sheep can be milked?

          Thanksgiving.  The truly American holiday dedicated to gluttony and imperialism.  No?  It is actually my favorite holiday, maybe for these exact two reasons.  I like to eat and I like to remember what it is to be an American (aside from the raping and pillaging of course). 

      But what first has come to mind this Thanksgiving is the question of Native American cheese, namely, does it exist.  Most tribes weren’t big into domesticating animals early on so this leaves us with a priceless image- a man chasing after a bufalo by the teat no doubt.  Maybe horses then, surely the earliest American cheeses must be from the equine family.  I’ve never had horse milk or cheese, but I have had camel’s milk cheese and for some reason I think they must be similar.  There must be that flavor reminiscent of urine and dirt in the pate somewhere.  The dairy products produced were most likely used in other dishes (correct me if I am way off here) and were masked by other, more enticing spices.

   I mentioned Sherman Alexie because, on a much more contemporary note, he discusses goverment issued cheese on the reservation in his short story collection The Lone Ranger and Tanto Fist Fight which was later turned into the fantastic movie  Smoke Signals.  He is one of my favorite writers, it is about time to revisit him.  he talks about contemporary Native American problems, including habits in eating. 

    On Thursday while you are slopping butter onto everything in sight think about the first Thanksgiving and ask your self: was there any cheese?

I know this is a blog about cheese but we all need our vegetables too.  Yesterday I wentto Queens, way out to Queens and visited the Queens County Farm Museum, well I didn’t so much visit as beg shamelessly to be allowed the privilege of sticking my hands in the dirt for a few hours.  Today is the first day Michael, the head farmer, will be selling his goods at the Union Square Green Market.  Think, how much more local can it get? 

yeah, that’s Queens. 

Anyway, everything from the farm is organic and fresh and cared for by a few loyal and loving farmers.  They have many many varieties of greens and a myriad of root vegetables.   It isn’t just a park but a real, functioning farm and if you want to learn more about where your food is coming from I recommend a drive out there  (n.b. via public transit it is a veritable nightmare).  They also have a lot of sheep, clean happy sheep, just begging to be milked and become cheese producers.  I can see it in their eyes.  Yeah, that sounds wrong.  Anyway, eat the veggies.

www.queensfarm.org

There has been a special request; a certain red headed cheesemonger wants to hear about the Laughing Cow.  It began as a discussion last evening at the bar and after a few hours, after she had left some of us went to the bodega across the street and bought a little net of wax covered cheese candies.  Some people think of slumming in terms of a one night stand or a deboucherous night at a shady bar- here at the cheese shop we think of it more in terms of industrialized cheese. 

 My parents used to put these in my lunch box when I was in grade school.  The cheese brought back a flood of memories, sitting at lunch in my school uniform, the aromas of Elmer’s glue and construction paper are as much a part of the flavor as the milk itself.  As it turns out we are in good company with these Laughing Cow memories.  The brand is owned by the Bel Group, founded in 1865, it is one of the largest dairy companies in the world.  The group has subsidiaries all over the world and creates marketing and products designed for each country- think the USA to Syria to Spain to Sweden and back again to Tunisia or Chile.  The genius of the Bel Group is mostly in their marketing and advertising.  They make cheese a snack food and a fast food while keeping low calories and health at the heart of their ad campaigns.  Miniaturization is also at the core of the business- the cheese is cute and hooks child consumers from an early age.  And it really works, I mean, we all work at a high end cheese shop and still crave this rather flavorless product ( I beg you to contest my feelings on its flavor, yes you brother).  The cheese also caters to a bachelor’s lifestyle with cheeses designed to make a simple cocktail hour snack.  I think I might pick some more up on my way home, some Tex Mex cubes or some Cheese Yatzi packs, and  mind you I am not being sarcastic- I’m turning into a junkie.

      Tomorrow the face of government cheese could change forever.  Or more likely the face of agricultural policies for small farmers, the guys we depend on for cheese.  Most New York City residents are not likely to be thinking about what the candidates will do for small farmers- but we all should be.  All of those purveyors who you regularly buy from at the Greenmarket are hanging on by a string while agribusiness tries to swallow them up. 

       Strong support of small farmers is good for our wallets, stomachs and the environment.  The government should be subsidizing small farms to encourage local economies- for us, the general tristate area and New England.  Most of our American cheeses hail from the great state of Vermont.

    So then, what do the two candidates have to say about small farms?  Well, nothing too clear.

 Senator John McCain believes that, “Farming and agriculture production is part of the backbone of our great country. As president, I will support addressing the larger needs of the farming community abiding by the same standards of common sense and fiscal restraint as demonstrated by our nation’s hardworking families.”

Obama said, “If Washington continues policies that work against America’s family farmers, our rural communities will fall further behind — and so will America. But if we reject the politics that has shut ordinary folks out, we can create a new story for rural America…”

Upon further reading on both of the candidates’ websites they actually tow a similar line.  Both promise to cut down on subsidies to agribusiness, change tariffs and put money into rural economies.  Hopefully this means cutting back on the chemically fertilized monoculture type of farm the government currently endorses with such energy and furvor.  The one difference is that Obama wants to work towards regionally supported agriculture.  McCain will push for freer markets and the reduction of trade barriers.  No real surprise there, at least for me, that Obama is the locavore of the bunch. 

    Where is this all going?  What does it have to do with cheese?  Well our farmers need us and they also need the government.  Farm insurance is largely dependent on the government.  A bad season, a disaster, illness can ruin a farmer’s livelihood.  In turn all of that local, organic and fresh food we city folk love can vanish as quickly as it arrived.  Those guys over at Slow Food keep telling us to “Vote with your fork,” they have a point, a big one and the values embodied by small scale agriculture depend on it.

 Ommmmm.  More like Ummmmmmm.  I am skeptical about this idea, but a lot of my closest friends, particularly my closest male friends seem enamoured with it.  Being a born and bred New Englander I have never encountered a Turducken, we’ve always kept our Thanksgivings to a plain turkey and a touch of familial tension; very little excitment over layered poultry.  In fact, I haven’t met anyone from the south yet who is a proponent of the Beast (read: Turducken) and I ask myself if it is a southern myth or if it is shame at the gluttony it represents. 

 

I am undecided if the gluttony of this dish is shameful or like a chocolate cake, or champagne and worthy reward for the holidays.  In general I am a stickler for knowing where my meat comes from, in the case of the Turducken, in order to justify it, I am for taking things one step further.  Each man (or woman) should hunt for his own hen, duck and turkey; each layer should serve as a reward.     Thanksgiving is a month away but everywhere I go there is talk of meats for the day.  Last night was a particularly carnivorous one as I listened to some friends of mine discuss the smoke-teepee in which they planned to cook the Turducken.  I then began to question how I, once nearly a vegetarian, friend of animals and vegans, fell in with this crowd. 

      I am actually a little nervous to mention this idea to my father, he likes experimenting with traditional foods and I don’t think he would much mind walking through the forest in search of at least a wild turkey.  Then again, he likely knows about the Turducken, I realize I am a little late to the table.   Maybe I will suggest it for the dinner next month.  Really, what is there to doubt about a whole animal terrine?

Lula’s Chocolate from Monterey is so incredibly good and we would know because of the amazing samples they sent us.  Maybe if you come in and beg we will give you a try.  I thought I had completely lost my sweet tooth, I haven’t been really hooked on a sweet in a while, but now I really cannot seem to stop eating this toffee; it is so smooth and crunchy, chocolatey and buttery.  I need to put the bag away and save some for everyone else.  Since it has only been sold on the west coast we are the only shop in the city who’s got it.  There are caramels, rockyroad marshmellow and some other addictive confections.  The company is family owned and operated by Scott Lund who follows his grandmother, Lula’s, recipes.   And it has arrived just in time to appease the most discerning trick-or-treater.

    Placemats are at the center of Italian eating.  If you are sitting at a table, you have a placemat in front of you.  I suppose it is a nice tradition, keeping things clean and tidy and not ruining one’s kitchen table.  The ironic thing is, however, that that the placemats often become dirty and worn so you are still eating on a suspicious surface.  The most problems infact, usually involve cheese.  Graded cheese, melted cheese, soft and sticky cheese, on the bottom sides of placemats all across Italy after months, even years of meals at the table.  I don’t mean to say that everyone has a house-full of dirty placemats, I admit it is probably just the people I know. 

    I once lived with two of the heaviest chainsmokers I have ever met for about six months.  They were cousins and created an axis of flith and confusion in our house, so strong, I nearly had to escape in the night.  They ashed their cigarette butts on their dinner plates after a meal, but the one time I sat down at the table and placed my dish directly on the wood they screamed in fright.  “Ma, sei pazza?”  I am afraid I was crazy because there was a reenactment of the same scenario only a week later at a friend’s house.  Had I learned nothing?  

      It isn’t that people don’t use placemats elsewhere,  it is just I have never seen any people use them with such urgency.  My grandmother used cloth placemats, which much like her tiled kitchen floor, served as a collection trough for anything fallen from plate or counter.  She did her best to rebel against the stereotype of the sparkling Sicilian kitchen.  The nuns from my Montessori kindergarten also were into placemats, but they made us clean them ourselves, with windex, when we were five. 

       I only think of it now because last week at my friend’s house, where he never is the one who cooks (his girlfriend and her sister do that…), he certainly remembered his placemats.  They were a little worn and had some bits of cheese embedded in them.  Frankly, it felt like home.  For all intensive purposes his kitchen was clean, but there was something antique about it all, some pieces that after decades would never change or vanish. 

A few weeks ago Bloomingdale’s had a photo shoot at the cheese shop.  It being such a glamorous place and all…

we stood around and gawked while the models and photographers made love to our window displays.

(See pages 12-13)

It is also rumored that our darling Amy has been featured in a past issue of Nylon Magazine that none of us can seem to get our hands on- June or July 08.  If you have a copy, please bring it in!

http://bloomingdalesbymail.shoplocal.com/index.aspx?pagename=flash&fsid=8440337e-dc77-415a-a85c-a9549740c8c5&pagenumber=1&circularid=13899