Appreciating The Greats: Applebys Cheshire

Cheshire cheese is one with great, if muddied, history. Some say it is mentioned in the Domesday Book of 1086, some say it is not mentioned until 1580 and others say the cheese is nearly a thousand years older than the Domesday book, dating back to early Romans. Whether it be 500, 1000 or 2000 years old, it is a cheese of pride in England, particularly for the Appleby family in Shropshire, England.

While many makes of Cheshire are industrialized (because Cheshire itself does not hold PDO protection), the Appleby name guarantees the buyer that the cheese is still handmade, and clothbound, under the watch of head cheesemaker Gary Gray. The milk comes from the families Friesian Holsteins cows (Holsteins are the black and white variety we're all familiar with) , which has a lower fat composition in their milk than any other breed.

Their cheese is currently being distributed by Neals Yard Dairy in England.

Tasting Notes:
Milk: Raw Cow
Brand: Applebys--from Neals Yard Dairy

Appearance:
  Rind: Clean, light tan. Faint remnants on the rind from the cloth it was wrapped in.
  Paste: Bright orange--colored with Annatto; Drier looking than many younger cheeses (aged under 1 year)

Smell:
  Rind/Paste: Both smell musty, like a basement. Likely due to the wedge being wrapped in plastic and not in cheese paper. 

Mouthfeel: Crumbly, dry.

Flavor:
  Rind: I skipped eating this one.
  Paste: Peppery, tangy, acidic--like sour cream.

Artemisia Cafe After Dark

Pleasant Street is a quiet path wedged between the chaos of The Old Port and the bustle of Congress. Most people wouldn't take notice of it except when they drive down it in search of parking for the Civic Center or the yearly Greek Fest held at the end of the street. Its only real traffic comes in the summer when basketball players occupy the courts in the park or when hordes of drunks make their way from the Old Port, to the West End, and stop to either piss in the park or throw their empties into the street. But, aside from this little seasonal blemish, the street lives up to its name. It's quiet. It's quaint. It's damn near perfect.

The one thing that The Missus and I have been missing, particularly since Chef Peter Sueltenfuss left the now defunct District, was a neighborhood spot for dinner. Since we moved to the neighborhood three years ago, we've always been quite lucky to have Artemisia Cafe for a weekend Brunch together or when my family has come to visit. The food, particularly their biscuits and sausage gravy, has always warmed and comforted our bellies, but I was always puzzled why they never served dinner. 

Then, very quietly, at the beginning of May, they started to. 

When I returned home from a work trip to Wisconsin, we walked in and noticed that the interior had changed a bit. Booths filled in what had been the side waiting room and the eclectic, funky art was gone from the walls. The bohemian seemed to have grown up since our last visit. Then, it all made sense when we were seated and noticed little cards at the tables announcing dinner service, Wednesday to Saturday, after 5pm. 

Not long after that excursion, and a nice post from Professor A. about his dinner at Artemisia, we found ourselves heading out across the street with high expectations. When we entered, we were greeted by the front-of-the-house half of the couple behind the endeavor, Heather. She kindly greeted us and showed us to one of the booths facing out over Pleasant St. At the time, there were two other tables sat, but as our meal went on, her work tripled. 

The menu is not overly expansive, a handful of small plates, some salads, four pastas and five entrees offered the evening we went. It can be best described as a hodgepodge of French, Mediterranean and Italian dishes, with little touches in other influences for good measure. After we settled in, Heather brought us a basket of bread and cute crock of butter and The Missus ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio to sip while we perused the menu.

After we ordered, our hostess surprised us with their nightly amuse from the kitchen. She presented  two teardrop shaped bowls of the potato and fennel soup, which was also their soup offering that evening. 

This was one hell of an introduction. The soup was nicely balanced with the spice of the fennel and earthiness of the potato. Fennel, at least to me, can always be a tricky little bugger, but this never threaten to drown out the other elements in the tiny bowl.  And, while there was obviously a bit of cream present in the dish, it never coated the tongue, which always makes me think that the person in the kitchen is trying to hide a mediocre soup. This was superb and raised our spirits on such a grey evening. 

The pork rillette, on the right side of the picture, was less stringy than traditionally prepared. It was presented more in the style and consistency of a tartar, minced up and spread atop some slightly over grilled slices of bread. The flavor was herby and clean; it was also nicely warmed from the toasted bread. The departure from tradition, in both texture and temperature, was a welcomed treat and the chef, in our eyes, had already won us over. 

The country pate, in the center, was more akin to what we were familiar with for the style, which is a meatloafesque shape and smooth consistency. It had more of an upfront pork flavor than the rillette, but that was pulled back with the addition of a balsamic drizzle on the slices. As it always tends to be with charcuterie plates, the ratio of crostini to meat was lower than required, so we finished the last nibbles plain. 

The last item on the plate was a brandy infused duck liver pate, a richer and more flavorful cousin to the familiar chicken liver variety. It had a bit of mineral to it, though not overly so, which can be the downfall to some nice attempts at liver pates. It also lacked any gaminess and came off smooth, fatty and sweet. I would easily put it up there as one of my most enjoyed liver pates (Farmhouse Tap and Grill still holds top billing for me). 

Our entrees were a bit 'land and sea.'  Our eventual choices were the two dishes that we both struggled between: the lamb meatballs with muhummara sauce and the lumachine pasta with lobster. So, we ordered with all of the best intentions of sharing. In the end, however, I do believe I stole more tastes from The Missus' plate than she did from mine.

The lamb meatballs came four to an order, a sizable serving for dinner, atop a good dose of muhummara (roasted red peppers, breadcrumbs, walnuts, lemon, pomegranate molasses and a few other bits making up the unbelievably concentrated sauce).  On the side was a light yogurt based raita, grilled pita and a cheese I was unfamiliar with (WHAT?!), queso De Freir (a cheese from the Caribbean, very similar to the better known Halloumi from Cyprus). The first bite I stole from The Missus' plate had me closing my eyes in bliss. The herbs and spices (A bit of mint? Oregano? Cumin? Coriander?) in the meatballs was delicious and each one in the bowl was succulent and juicy. And, while they were perfect on their own, combined with the other elements on the plate, it was a dish I kept going back to until there was nothing left but a few onions in her bowl. 

That's not to say that my entree, the lumachine pasta and lobster, was not worth my full attention. 

When it was placed in front of me, I was impressed with the generous portion of lobster that occupied the center of the dish. It was dressed in a cream and sherry sauce with a chiffonade of  tarragon and drizzle of truffle oil. I imagine this is what a lighter version of 555's famous "Truffled Lobster Mac and Cheese" would be like. It wasn't drenched in the cream sauce and the truffle oil was just enough to leave a lingering earthiness in each bite without muting the sweet lobster meat.With the warmer days coming up, when we tend to shun cream based sauces, this is just light enough to make it a favorite during any season.

Though we were satiated at that point, we thought we would be remiss if we ended the meal without trying one of the five selections of the evening. The Missus settled on the mascarpone triffle with berries and I went with the Mexican chocolate mousse. I stole a quick bite of hers before digging in to the dark chocolate mousse, seasoned with cinnamon and chile. Both were perfunctory, but I wasn't blown away by either one. Truthfully, though, it would have taken a Bresca or Grace level dessert to equal the meal we had just dined our way through. But, from what I hear from Professor A., the lemon cake is absolutely divine and on my list for the next time we head across the street for dinner. 

With it's quiet location and quality food, Artemesia Cafe is poised to make a name for itself outside of the weekend brunch crowd with Chef Guy Frenette, and his wife, Heather, at the helm during the evening hours. It's one of those quaint, near extinct spots in Portland, that make you feel at home.

Task Force Zulu: Operation Cochon

The latest sponsor for 37 Cooks was Lock-n-Load Java, a veteran owned coffee company that was more than generous with sending us out our choice of samples. Before I made the 'Charlie Don't Surf' cupcakes, I brined a lovely pork roast with some of their single origin Costa Rican 'Task Force Zulu' roast for over 24 hours and it paid off with a richly flavored, tender roast. Saddled up with some all day braised collards and a batch of mac-n-cheese and it was a smile worthy meal.  

Task Force Zulu: Operation Cochon
by Shannon T

adapted from Alton Brown's "Molasses and Coffee Pork Chops"

1 cup strong brewed Lock-n-Load Java’s Task Force Zulu—Single Origin Costa Rica coffee, cooled
½ cup molasses

¼ cup maple syrup
2 Tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 Tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 cloves garlic, minced
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
6 to 8 sprigs fresh thyme
1 ¾ pound pork loin roast, twine removed

Combine the coffee, molasses, vinegar, mustard, garlic, 1 teaspoon of salt, 1/2 teaspoon of pepper, the ginger, thyme and pork chops in a 1-gallon zip-top bag; seal and shake to combine. Marinate in the refrigerator for at least 8 hours (I kept it in for 24).

Preheat the oven to 350F. Remove the pork from the bag. Strain the marinade into a saucepan; boil gently over medium-high heat, stirring, until reduced to 1/2 cup, 12 to 15 minutes.

Dry the pork loin with paper towels. Heat olive oil in an oven-proof pan until just under smoking. Season the outside of the pork with salt and pepper and sear the pork loin on all sides. Place the pan in the oven and cook until the internal temperature is 150, approximately 50 minutes. Remove the pork from the pan, place on a plate, tented with foil, and let rest for 10-15 minutes. Slice and drizzle the reduced sauce onto the pork. Enjoy.

*Served with garlic and onion sauteed kale and homemade mac 'n cheese

Appreciating the Greats: Pont l'Eveque

I knew that The Missus would say something about the smell, she tends to. The cheese sat, quietly in its box, for a week in our vegetable crisper before it began to waft through the refrigerator.  The smell was strong enough to touch your nose, even when you opened the door to the freezer. But, being accustomed to comments being made when I've hidden a washed rind in the refrigerator, I preempted her and said, "It's my cheese," when she opened the door.

Pont l'Eveque is said to have existed, though known by another name, since the 12th century. It is produced by only 6 makers in the Normandy region of France, which is also home to Camembert, and they share the same wild mushroom aroma and velvety texture. Aside from the smell, the bright orange rind, which is created through the process of washing, brushing and turning which encourages the growth of Brevibacterium linens--known as B. linens in the cheese world. 

Though around for over eight centuries, it did not gain AOC recognition until 1976. Today, that distinction requires the following in production:

• The milk must come from a controlled area around the village of Pont-l'Évêque, extending to the départments of Calvados, Eure, Manche, Mayenne, Orne and Sein-Maritime. 
• The curd must be successively divided, kneaded and then drained.
• During affinage the cheeses must be washed, brushed and turned.
• The resulting cheese must be one of three sizes:
• Petit - 8.5-9.5 cm square, and a minimum of 85g of dry matter.
• Demi - 10.5-11.5 cm by 5.2-5.7 cm, with a minimum of 70g of dry matter.
• Grand - 19–21 cm square, with a minimum of 650g of dry matter.

 Because she was so vocal about this cheese, I invited The Missus to join me in my tasting.

Tasting Notes
Milk: Pasteurized Cow
Brand: L. Graindorge
Appearance:
     Rind: White, powdery-flour like rind with light orange hue underneath.
     Paste: Stark white, small eyes; young in age.
Smell:
     Rind: Mushrooms*, feet*, raw broccoli*
     Paste: Mushroom, hay
   
Mouthfeel: Creamy, but not runny, slightly firm at core
Flavor:  
     Paste: Slightly sour, peppery*, onion, hard boiled egg white. 
     Rind: Salty, nutty

*Notes from The Missus

'Charlie Don't Surf' Cupcakes

I'm coming up for air this week, trying to rest my brain after a week of studying and an extremely wonderful cheese tasting class with the staff of Bar Lola.  Thank you all for the card and humoring me and my dozen and a half cheeses on your Monday evening. 

So, I'll let my most recent post from 37 Cooks speak for itself.  And I would recommend getting some "Lock-N-Load" Kona Coffee when you can. Made a nice cuppa.

'Charlie Don't Surf' Cupcakes with Macadamia Nuts
adapted from Brown Eyed Baker "Mocha Cupcakes with Espresso Buttercream"

Cupcakes:

1-1/3 all-purpose flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup whole milk
½ cup double strength brewed Lock-N-Load Java Charlie Don't Surf Kona blend 1½ teaspoons espresso powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup light brown sugar
1 egg, at room temperature

1. Mix the espresso powder into the brewed coffee until dissolved; set aside to cool to room temperature.

2. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a standard-size muffin tin with paper liners.

3. Whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

4. Beat the butter and both sugars together on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2-3 minutes. Add the egg and beat until combined. In a measuring cup, combine the milk, brewed coffee mixture and vanilla. Slowly add the flour mixture, alternating with the coffee mixture, ending with the flour mixture.

5. Divide the batter evenly between the liners. Bake for 17-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a cupcake comes out clean. Cool completely before frosting the cupcakes.

Espresso Cream Cheese Frosting:

(Makes enough to frost 12 cupcakes)

1/2 cup 1 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 8-ounce package of cream cheese, brought to room temperature
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
1½ teaspoons espresso powder

1. Mix the espresso powder into the vanilla until dissolved; set aside.

2. Using the whisk attachment of a stand mixer, whip the butter and cream cheese on medium-high speed for 5 minutes, stopping once to scrape the sides of the bowl. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the powdered sugar a little at a time, waiting until it is mostly incorporated before adding more. Once all of the powdered sugar has been added, scrape the sides of the bowl and increase the speed to medium-high and whip until fluffy, about a minute or two. Add the espresso and vanilla mixture and continue to mix at medium-high until it is completely incorporated, scraping the sides as necessary.