Cheese, part two

When I picked up my cheese to check on it last night, it was... leaking. Uh-oh, I thought, I hope it hasn't turned to mush. Although I had planned to wait until at least the end of February, as it's only been aging about three weeks at this point, I was worried enough to cut it open now.

It's an interesting sort of cheese. It's definitely firmer than the cheese I've been making, but it's a bit more like feta than cheddar in texture. In terms of taste-- well, it's interesting. You can tell that someday, it will be a cheddar, but it isn't quite there yet. There is a taste, but it's not hugely strong.

So: notes for next time.

1. Make sure to press the cheese with the right amount of weight for the right amount of time.
2. Make sure that the cheese is fully dry before you wax it.
3. More salt? I think it's not quite salty enough for my tastes.

Also: there is more cheese than I will eat before it gets moldy. I have about five pieces to give away; each is about three ounces. Who wants some?

Unexpected Sausage

As I've mentioned before, I had two goals during the summer of 2010: bread and cheese. I also had a goal for summer 2011: sausage.

In the fall of 2009, just before Halloween, I discovered El Salchichero at the Scotts Valley Farmer's Market. One of the first thing I bought from them was their chestnut crepinettes. They came two to a package, so I cooked them, cut them into quarters, and served them at a Halloween dinner for eight. It was a rather loud night-- we were watching movies, talking about costumes, and answering the door for trick-or-treaters. But as our guests ate, silence fell. Thankfully, it was the good kind of oh-my-god-how-delicious-is-this silence. By the end of the night, we had been converted to the absolutely amazing sausage-making skills of Chris LaVeque, the man who owns and runs El Salchichero.

The sausage stall became a regular stop for me on my farmer's market rounds, especially once they started carrying whole cuts of meat, lard, and, occasionally, rabbits. I was continually amazed by the creativity shown in the week's offerings: they changed with the seasons, using locally-available produce, and were, without fail, the best sausages (and crepinettes!) I've ever tasted.

Then, in July, Chris folded up his farmer's market stall in order to remodel an old t-shirt factory into a butcher's shop. While I tried to make my stock of sausage last, it was too delicious not to eat. I was left in a quandary: did I want to go back to eating grocery store sausage (both New Leaf and Scotts Valley Market make their own), or did I want to start my next summer's goal a little early? In early September, armed with a KitchenAid stand mixer and attachments, I made my first sausage: a fairly simple breakfast sausage.


To be quite honest, it wasn't great. Neither was my next try-- spiced apple sausages. In both cases, the sausages ended up dry and bursting from their casings. Eventually, I picked up a copy of Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn's Charcuterie.

Ah, I realised after following their instructions (slightly modified) for Andouille sausage, this is it. I'd finally gotten the proper fat/meat/salt/seasonings ratio. The andouille became a Thanksgiving Day appetizer, and hung around in the freezer long after, becoming breakfast and dinner (I'm fairly sure I have a few links still). It was followed by garlic and herb sausage, mild Italian sausage (Christmas Eve lasagna!), and, most recently, sausage made with ras el hanout.

So, thank you, Chris LaVeque and El Salchichero-- oddly, thank you for closing, however temporarily. I am very happy to have discovered a love of sausage-making. I am also extremely excited about the fact that El Salchichero's new face (local butcher's shop!!) is opening this Friday. I'll see you there.