The Importance of Being an Eater

Endless combinations of pairings

With the second semester of cheese classes at the Kitchen under my belt, I have a better idea of what people enjoy: making cheese and drinking booze.

Setting aside any variables like advertisement, promotion, or timing, the three home cheesemaking classes had slightly higher average attendance than the three cheese tasting classes, with the exception of the wine and cheese pairing class. The cheese plating class and the raw vs. pasteurized blind tasting were successful in their own right; and the students in attendance seemed to really enjoy them. But for whatever reason, the current ebb in cheese demands (at least here) are in the more practical pursuits:  How to be self-sufficient. How to create your own edible product at a lower cost and higher quality. How to entertain your guests.

Unless you have a gathering of cheese and/or food nerds like me nobody is going to care about the family recipe and terroir behind a raw milk cheeses or the manifest bravery of attempting to create the perfect pickle and cheese pairing instead of throwing a bunch of grapes on the cheese plate.  Nobody -- or at most a scant group -- cares about parties like that. People do care about what's to drink and what you're eating with that drink. Because, let's face it, more people will come if they think there will be punch and pie...and the punch is heavily spiked.

We've come a long way in the last decade gastronomically (that odious term "foodie" aside), especially in caring about the effort and creativity behind our food. But the art of eating can still seem daunting at times. Perhaps the idea of admiring this final step before everything mixes with the bile in our stomachs is still seen as a lofty and self-righteous pill administered only by foodies and urban glitterati. After all, a cheese plate and accompaniments curated from a specialty shop is expensive and often a luxury, yes. The idea of reaching a palate epiphany from obscure, pricey, or glamorous foods is a combination of daunting, silly, and uncomfortable for the casual citizen of consumption. But the calculated appreciation of how flavors are created from so many individual parts is not relegated to fine foods. When it comes to the art of eating, everyone is an artist.

Six cheeses, six wines, one port, one whiskey,
and a cheese wheel = a good time

The take-home point in all three tasting classes was that there are no rules to a good pairing. There is no cheese law that says a raw milk cheese is better than a pasteurized one. Taste is not related to cost. Everyone, especially those damn foodies, will pretend to be an expert on the best pairings or the most amazing meal in the world. But a good cheese, a good pairing, and a good meal is whatever you enjoy. It's the company you keep when enjoying it. There are guidelines that may help you achieve a delightful flavor revelation. But the beauty in digestion is taking the time and care to notice the food in front of you -- from the love in your mom's pancakes to the medieval history of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

At our core all creatures in the food chain are inherently gluttons; we want our prey quickly and we want to eat our share faster yet. Caring about the act of nourishing our bodies, the community in eating, and the story of our sustenance sets humans apart from our primal brethren (at the very least) and unites us as people (at the very best). If you look at it that way, a tasting or pairing class isn't so intimidating...the booze probably also helps.