A tale of three cheeses

France has a well-earned reputation as one of the great gastronomic centers of the world. In the area of cheese, the French are outstanding both in terms of quality and variety. To my knowledge, the total number of different varieties of cheeses produced here has never been accurately counted, though I’ve seen estimates range as high as a thousand! In Les Mots du Général (1962), Ernest Mignon cites former president Charles de Gaulle as having said: « Comment voulez-vous gouverner un pays où il existe 246 variétés de fromage ? » ("How can you govern a country of 246 varieties of cheese?”) Apocryphal or not, the quotation points to the independence and diversity found in the people and products of the disparate regions of France.

Since arriving here ten days ago, we have taken on the enviable task of “researching” the area of cheese. While in Carpentras last Saturday, we found our #1 choice for purchasing cheese since we lived in Lyon: a dedicated cheese shop. Owned by Madame Claudine Vigier, La Fromagerie du Comtat, has two rooms and several large cases full of all sorts of cheese, fromage blanc, crème fraîche, and the like—making decisions very difficult for the buyer. We finally chose an old favorite, Saint Félicien, both because it looked so delicious and because our friend Julia had just mentioned it this summer as being a favorite of hers. A “close cousin” of Saint Marcellin (a very religious family of cheeses, it seems!), Saint Félicien is a soft, somewhat mild and creamy cow’s milk cheese from a region just south of Lyon. It was hard to refrain from eating the whole thing after dinner at home that night.

In Bédoin, the cool and (as of late) rainy weather has prevented me from exploring as much as I’d like in town for places to buy cheese. Just like in the U.S., there are “industrial cheeses” (as they call them here) which are available on the dairy shelves at our supermarket, Shopi. Interestingly, the butcher case at the supérette ("mini-market") also contains a selection of “fromages traditionnels.” But so far the best shop we’ve found is just up the street from Shopi at the Boucherie du Mont Ventoux. The shop owner/butcher Jeannette also has a case devoted to cheese. This week we’ve tried two new cheeses from the Boucherie and have been pleased with each.

A creamy goat cheese of northern Provence, Banon first attracted our attention by its unusual wrapping, une feuille de châtaignier (or a chestnut tree leaf), and by a sticker proclaiming that it had won the Ministry of Agriculture and Fishing’s silver medal in Paris 2008. Jeannette told us it was très fort (very strong) and right she was. In terms of taste and smell, Banon is definitely not for faint-hearted types who find cheddar exotic. Especially on day two there was a strong taste not only of the cheese, but of the chestnut leaf as well. Banon, which may date from the Gallo-Roman era, has also received the designation A.O.C. (for appellation d’origine contrôlée), a classification that certifies that certain foodstuffs such as wines, ciders, cheeses, and honey come from a specific region.

Our final adventure in cheese tasting this week was trying another goat’s milk cheese, Picodon. Also rated A.O.C. and made just north of here in la Drôme, this was perhaps the most subtle of the three and very delicious as well. I might add that all of these above-mentioned products are made from raw milk, which, although viewed with disfavor in the U.S., doesn’t seem to harm Europeans and makes for extremely tasty cheese.