225BatonRouge.com - Blogs

In my attempt to shirk doofus-dom serious cheese tasting has commenced. First stop – the Spanish sheep’s milk cheese Manchego. My goal was to buy two or three examples and after carefully savoring and logging the nuances of each, emerge with a go-to Manchego that would wow party guests should I ever get around to staying up late enough to entertain grown-ups again. What I didn’t know about Manchego, but what virtual instructor Steven Jenkins (“Cheese Primer”) was happy to point out, is that Manchego is actually Spain’s most mass-produced cheese and there are a lot of crappy versions out there to avoid. Great. My first foray into exotica led me to the equivalent of American Colby. Thankfully, I read this after tasting, so it didn’t put a damper on all the oohing and ahhing taking place over my plastic cutting board. I had chosen the following: a one-year-old Manchego, a 6-month-old Manchego and Campo de Montalban, another Spanish cheese, all purchased from Whole Foods. Whether they were crappy versions or rare imports I have no idea. The cheese doofus must now add investigating pedigrees into the agenda. Whatever the case, I liked and can recommend all three.

Tasting notes:

In general, Manchego is a hard cheese, though not like Parmigiano Reggiano, and it is characterized by a buttery, nutty taste. It’s easy on the palate and I’d guess most people would enjoy it. Of the two Manchegos I chose, the one-year was slightly grainier and had more of a bite. The six-month was slightly softer and milder. Next to them, the Campo de Montalban emerged the creamiest because of its combination of both goat and sheep’s milk. Lining it up next to the two Manchegos demonstrated the difference between sheep and goat’s milk: the former produces a cheese that’s drier and nuttier; the latter produces one that’s creamier and more pungent. This, of course, is the reason to buy more than one cheese (or wine) at a time, because tasting is just one big comparison game.

Finally, a few more Jenkins tidbits to transform any Manchego-eating doofus into a full-blown snob: the cheese hails from the rocky, cold interior Spanish province of Castilla-La Mancha where only sheep thrive. Also, if you want to be authentic, serve Manchego in little triangles cut one-eighth of an inch thick decoratively fanned on a plate. Don’t present it in “a big hunk . . . with a knife stuck into it,” which, naturally, is exactly what I did.