There are few dishes more American than macaroni and cheese. Forget that we credit the Italians for pasta and the French for "the good cheese" -- it's here in the United States where we bring the two together together in glorious, comforting harmony.
Rumor has it that Thomas Jefferson introduced the dish to the United States. And though a boxed version was made wildly popular by Kraft over many decades, home and professional chefs have taken back the comfort food, and now make gourmet versions like this one from blogger Ezra Pound Cake.
This take on classic macaroni and cheese, adapted from a recipe in "The Gift of Southern Cooking," is made with grated onion, sour cream, half-and-half, heavy cream, Worcestershire sauce, dry mustard, eggs and cayenne pepper, as well as noodles and cheddar cheese. Fattening and flavorful -- just the way American comfort food should be.
Become a member of the Slashfood Flickr pool to get a shot at having your photos featured in Feast Your Eyes.
When it comes to American cheese, shapes and sizes can be deceiving. Smaller cheeses that come in the shape of a pyramid or disc (think Valençay or Selles-sur-Cher) are often associated with goat's milk cheeses. However, there are several American cheesemakers, like Cowgirl Creamery, that are defying these expectations by producing an array of cow's milk cheeses, including Inverness, in the shape and size of French chèvres.
Sarabande, a raw cow's milk cheese from Dancing Cow Farm in Vermont, is an astonishing example of this innovation. In a pyramid shape reminiscent of a Valençay, it shares more similarities with Taleggio and Langres.
"We have low production pastured cows that don't give a lot of milk, say 30 pounds a day average, but they give a very rich, flavorful milk," says Karen Getz, who co-owns Dancing Cow Farm with her husband, Steve. "We make cheese every day from warm, straight out of the cow milk [...], because milk is very fragile and starting with fresh milk each day allows the flavors of the pastures to shine."
The days when only Maytag Blue represented American blue cheese are long gone. From sweet and peppery Bayley Hazen Blue to the mineral-like taste of Tilston Point and the fruity pear flavor of Rogue River Blue, the options for American blue cheeses have dramatically increased. And, now, there's a new distinctly rustic blue cheese to add to this growing list -- Vaquero from Willow Hill Farm in Vermont.
Unlike other American blue cheeses, Vaquero has a creamy taste with a fascinating and delicious crispy dark chocolate flavor. "I would have to say it's the milk combination," explains Willow Smart, who co-owns the farm along with her husband, Dave Phinney. "We milk both sheep and cows, hence the yellow-ness from the cow's milk. We milk Brown Swiss and Dutch Belted cows, which always have very yellow milk as the beta-Carotene [red-orange pigment] from the pastures comes through in their rich milk."
Vaquero's rustic-looking rind, pale-yellow paste, and thick buttery consistency also make it stand apart from other blues. The natural exterior of the wheel appears similar to that of a Tomme de Savoie. Indeed, the cheese has the same brown Tomme de Savoie mold. Aged for three to five months, the molds, flavor and spreadable texture develop in caves that Willow and Dave built back in 1999.
When it comes to cheesemaking, the culinary exchange between Europe and America is especially noticeable. French cheeses, including Pouligny Saint Pierre and Sainte-Maure de Tourain, have influenced the style and taste of American cheeses, like Mont Vivant and Pipe Dreams ashed log. In addition to France, American cheesemakers, such as Charuth Loth from Farmstead First, look to other countries, like Holland and Italy. And, those looking for the American take on Welsh cheeses should look no further than Landaff, a raw cow's milk cheese inspired by Caerphilly, a cheese from Wales.
The reason for the Welsh influence is far from arbitrary. "The soils and rolling hills in Landaff, N.H., are similar to the terrain in the Cardiff area of Wales," says Deb Erb co-owner with husband Doug of Landaff Creamery. As with other cheeses, like Rogue River Blue, the taste of Landaff is affected by the soil on which the cows graze. Also, it just so happens that Landaff comes from Landaff, N.H. (hence, its name), which was originally named after the Bishop of Landaff, Wales, cleric to England's King George III. In short, this transatlantic influence can be attributed to history and similarities in soil.
Like larger than life art (think Andy Warhol print), cheeses, such as Époisses, can have such an immense flavor that people either love or hate them. We recently rediscovered torta-style cheeses, including Azeitão and La Serena, which, when ripe, have a degree of vegetal tanginess that would top just about any pungency charts. Torta del Casar, a torta-style cheese hailing from the region of Extremadura in Spain, has a distinct animal smell (some might say stink) that's sure to get the attention of even the most obtuse palate.
Named for its city of origin, Casar de Cáceres, Torta del Casar's meaty intensity can be detected the minute it enters a room. Its gamey taste and potent smell can be attributed to the raw milk of Merino and Entrefina sheep, from which the cheese is produced. Another explanation for this particularly sharp, nutty vegetal flavor has to do with thistle flower. Instead of using animal rennet to coagulate the sheep's milk, producers of this cheese use flower thistle.
Few of us want to make a complicated lasagna for solo dining -- by day six, you'll never want to see lasagna again! In this series, AOL Food staffer Sarah LeTrent taste-tests simple recipes suitable for a "table for one."
Oh, beloved pimento cheese; the Southeast's answer to cheese dip and queso.
The bright-orange spread is nothing more than extra-sharp cheddar, mayonnaise, diced pimiento peppers and cracked black pepper. Homemade pimento cheese is a snap to make and leftovers are a cracker's best friend. You could spruce up the spread with serrano peppers, garlic, cayenne, different types of cheese or even bacon. But to most, nothing is better than the classic four-ingredient mix between two pieces of bread.
The pimiento is a small cherry pepper which loses the "i" in cheese-spread form to become plain ol' "pimento." Known for its sweetness, you'll probably recognize it in the jarred and diced forms. As a relative of the red bell pepper, many cooks -- including Matt and Ted Lee -- even admit to substituting the latter for pimientos.
In "The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook", they write, "Conventional pimento cheese recipes call for canned pimentos, but we broil a fresh red bell pepper, skin it and cut it into small dice before mixing it with cheese. Sure it makes some eyes roll in Charleston, but we think this is a simple route to a more vibrant and sophisticated (less chemical-tasting) pepper flavor."
A new documentary chronicling Arkansans' infatuation with cheese dip has inspired a surge of statewide pride in what might be the region's signature dish.
Since Nick Rogers' short film "In Queso Fever" was featured on the Oxford American's Web site this fall, he's been making the local talk show rounds, reminding fellow Arkansans that their beloved Velveeta and Ro-Tel delicacy isn't widely available beyond the state's borders.
"Everyone's just shocked that if they were to travel extensively throughout the U.S., they wouldn't be able to get cheese dip," says Rogers, who works as an attorney in Little Rock. "The reaction I get from everybody is we had no idea cheese dip wasn't such a big deal everywhere."
Cheese dip is such a big deal in Arkansas that the Arkansas Times includes a cheese dip category in its "best of" readers' poll – and regularly receives more votes in that category than any other. When Conway native Kris Allen was named as an "American Idol" finalist, his hometown Stoby's Restaurant awarded him free cheese dip for life -- a prize many Arkansans likely considered better than a record contract.
Hand wrapped in grape leaves, Rogue River Blue has a smooth complex flavor that ranges from sweet and fruity to nutty. Its texture is intensely rich, reminiscent of a Roquefort Baragnaudes. However, unlike Roquefort -- which is produced from raw sheep's milk -- this blue is made from raw cow's milk. And in contrast to many blues, like Gorgonzola Piccante, this one is more sweet than spicy. So, for those of you whose palates have been traumatized by overly-pungent blues, this one is sure to win you over.
Like most delicious artisanal cheeses, the craftsmanship (and local collaboration) involved in producing Rogue River Blue is directly responsible for its brilliant taste and consistency. The cheese comes from Rogue Creamery in Central Point, Ore. There, in the Rogue River Valley, the wheels are covered in grape leaves that are harvested from nearby Carpenter Hill Vineyard. But these aren't just any grape leaves: They're all macerated in Clear Creek's Pear Brandy and then tied to the cheese with strands of raffia.
While affinage -- the process of aging cheeses -- is common in Parisian cheese shops, it's a striking novelty here in the U.S. So it makes sense that cheese shops like Artisanal and Murray's would reach out to our French cousins, fromagerieslike Alléosse, to perfect this age-old craft. Recently, we discovered beautifully aged cheeses, notably Pearl and Pipe Dreams Demi, from Saxelby Cheesemongers on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
Like Voltaire, the 18th-century French philosopherwho compared the intellectual work of assembling the Encyclopédie to cultivating a garden, Anne Saxelby also compares affinageto tending a garden: "I check up on them [the aging goat's milk cheeses] every half hour, moving stuff around and turning the cheeses," says Saxelby, who has been aging cheeses now for about two years.
We decided to try an un-aged Pipe Dreams Demi next to one that's been aged a week and a half to taste the difference (visually, they're extremely apparent – see the photo above). Upon cutting into the younger one (on the left), the paste tends to run from under the beautifully developed bloomy rind. The taste was surprisingly pungent and aggressively remained on the palate for several minutes. On the contrary, the aged Pipe Dreams Demi seemed like an ideal redistribution of the younger one's tanginess. The spicy taste, reminiscent of walnuts and similar to an aged Pouligny Saint Pierre, came in nearly perfectly measured successions.
Just when you thought fondue was any combination of melted cheese bubbling away in a pot, along comes the Swiss government with their strict rules and regulations. Not that we're surprised -- a country known for its precision and design sense would naturally prefer to mandate the definition of exactly what goes into the pot.
According to the Canadian Press, a new national cookbook, "The Swiss Cookbook," put out with the help of the country's tourism agency defines the recipe as a mix of "only Vacherin and Gruyere cheeses mixed with Fendant wine and a dash of kirsch (cherry) schnapps." The book even includes instructions on the proper way to eat the fondue, including stirring tips and what to drink with the dish. Aside from the classic fondue recipe, the book packs more than 140 national dishes for rib-sticking mountain fare.
Robiola di Capra al Fico. Photo: Formaggio Kitchen.
Many cheeses, like St Pat and Hoja Santa, are covered in leaves to add a distinct herbal, sometimes earthy, taste. Wrapping cheese in leaves may seem gimmicky, but it can actually serve an essential role in developing the cheese's flavor. For instance, Robiola di Capra al Fico is a fresh Italian goat's milk cheese wrapped in fig leaves and exuding a citrus aroma.
The amount of time the cheese is aged in the leaves triggers the growth of certain molds and flavors. Coming from the Burrati family in Verbania, Italy, this incredibly milky tasting Robiola is not aged long enough for the fig leaves to create too pungent or too tart of a flavor. Instead, these bright-green leaves establish a mild acidity that beautifully balances the overwhelming creamy flavor and texture of the cheese.
Unlike a book not to be judged by its cover, you can always judge a cheese by its rind. Manchester, a raw goat's milk cheese from Consider Bardwell Farm in West Pawlet, Vt., has a stunning rustic rind (that must be eaten!) with ridges and brownish-yellow molds. In the U.S., we tend to associate mold with spoiled food; however, when it comes to artisanal cheese -- especially Manchester -- this association is just plain wrong.
The clay-like appearance of Manchester's ridges (which comes from the use of Italian cheese-basket molds) cannot be separated from the cheese's smooth, sweet aromatic flavor, which makes it comparable to a French Tomme de Savoie. In fact, it's the bacteria and mold around the cheese that contribute to this deliciously well-balanced masterpiece. Just eight weeks into the aging process, Manchester's rind already develops spots of red mold on what Peter Dixon, dairy foods consultant and cheesemaker at Consider Bardwell Farm, calls a "wild rind."
By "wild," does Dixon mean to say that the molds and the bacteria grow naturally out of nowhere? Well, yes and no. After making Manchester, Dixon uses a soft brush dipped in whey to wash the rind. "Whatever microbes like that [whey] will grow," says Dixon. "We make the cheese, and then create the look by turning the cheese and rubbing it a couple of times a week."
10 More Dirty Restaurant Tricks
5 Things You Didn't Know About Turducken
10 Catchiest Food Jingles We Love to Hate
