Queso de Cabra Al Salmuera
Saturday, February 20, 2010 at 6:44PM A new day, a new discovery
Used egg box under my arm, I dropped by Iain Mellis this afternoon to top up my supply. Scotland's best cheesemonger, I buy eggs there not just because I can re-use cartons, filling them from the large straw-lined wicker basket, but because doing so reminds me of collecting fresh. A closeted city dweller, that's as close as I get these days!
Standing in line to pay (yes, I'm British), my eyes fell on the glass bowl under the counter top that's always filled with large, chalk-white rounds of ricotta. Which I always admire, somewhat longingly, but rarely buy because what's a single girl with an ADD-afflicted palette going to do with that much ricotta. Today, I registered something slightly different. Or at least my subconscious did; my conscious self was in a dwam, eyes only half focused, absently waiting for the assistant to call my turn.
Meantime, unbeknownst to me, my subconscious was amusing itself with a game of spot the difference. Same glass bowl - check; occupying the centre of the cabinet - check; laundry-white pressed rounds of cheese with patterned ends - check; handwritten tag spelling out Ricotta - ch... Nope! Different tag. My subconscious reeled the cheese-nosy me back from queuing daze, my eyes focused on their target and I zoomed in for a closer look.
Queso de Cabra Al Salmuera. Never heard of it. I scanned the description below. This Spanish goats milk feta has a slight edge over the original Greek ewes milk feta. Sounded interesting, I love goats milk cheese, and what do you know, there was a little quarter wheel peeking out from the underside of two full rounds. Waiting especially for me.
With a post-gym appetite gradually becoming more insistent, I scurried home with my dainty portion, stopping in at M&S for a loaf of ciabatta and Kember & Jones deli counter for some fleshy green olives stuffed with chilli.
Once back, I set about rustling up a sandwich. A carrot through the mandolin. A grilled and chopped spring onion. (I love spring onions but detest their interminable aftertaste. Eeuch. Grilling for a minute or so until they're just heated through, or microwaving for a few seconds, allows me to taste them only for so long as I want. That is, whilst they're in my mouth.) Several chopped olives. All three tossed with a drizzle of the blush chilli oil running around the bottom of the tub and the tiniest squeeze of lemon juice. A hunk of bread under the grill, toasted top and bottom. I like the balance of textures you get toasting unsliced bread this way: the flaky, shattering exterior that gives way to pillowy softness. I split the loaf in half to reveal steaming insides, on which I laid the cheese, topped with the tossed salad and a handful of mixed leaves.
Not as firm as traditional Greek feta, the cheese broke into creamy crumbles on slicing. Slightly salty with that characteristically goaty, clean, lemony tang, it paired perfectly with the piquant olives and mild chilli heat. Slipping into a warm fuzz of post-prandial contentment, I couldn't imagine it coming from anything other than very happy goats.
Yes, I know it's a billy, but just pretend it's a nanny munching on a very large mouthful of juicy grass
Incidentally, Mellis feel the same about its olive rapport. "Superb with olives or salami," states their online description (I might qualify that with green olives - I've a hunch most black ones would be too strong), adding, "particularly good with a little Pata Negra." I'm up for that on take two.
Or, on reflection, perhaps a chilled dry sherry. A nutty, musky Amontillado... Or maybe a drier Fino would work better... A Fino Amontillado? Oh, so many wonderful tasting possibilities. They guarantee I'll be back for more.
Queso de Cabra Al Salmuera, salted goats cheese (literally, the cheese of goats by brine) from Ronda in Malaga, available from Iain Mellis.
Reader Comments (2)
Wonderful story! You added so much life to buying cheese and making a sandwich. I feel like I've been there with you. Keep up the good work!
Hey Sarah, thanks for your words of encouragement. We should do a dairy swapsie - that butter of yours sounded enviably good! :-))