French Have A Cheese For The Occasion

We are told that the French make 365 cheeses, one for every day of the year.

“No, no,” insists Hugues Parret. “There are far more than that!”

Monsieur Parret should know. At any time, there are upward of 400 varieties of cheese aging in his cellars in a back street of Sens, one of the historic towns of Burgundy.

Parret is a genial 50-year-old, always ready for a chat about his pet subject. His family has been in the cheese business for generations, first as producers of prime Emmenthal, now as maitres affineurs , specialists who buy immature cheese and ripen it to perfection under carefully controlled conditions.

“Cheese is nourished on water,” explains Parret, pointing to the white bloom on a 20-inch wheel of cheese. “Look at this brie. You see the fleur (flower)? It’s moisture that helps it grow.”

His aging cellars are kept at 90 percent humidity and a chill 43 degrees. Despite the low temperature, the nutty, sour smell of fermenting cheese hits the nostrils when the door is opened.

From floor to ceiling, the rooms are stacked with great 100-pound wheels of Comte (the best French Gruyere), neat chip-board boxes of Camembert, flats of little goat cheeses laid on straw to aid evaporation, tubs of fresh buffalo mozzarella packed in whey to keep the cheese moist. Parret looks surprised when I ask him how many cheeses he is guarding with such care.

“Perhaps 4,000,” he says.

Cow’s milk (from which the vast majority of cheeses are made) is at its best when the cattle are out to spring grass in April and May. To calculate the best season for a cheese, simply add the aging time - normally a few days for fresh cheese, around six weeks for Camembert, and nine months for a hard, Swiss-style cheese.

All of Monsieur Parret’s cheeses are made from unpasteurized milk, subject of bitter debate within the European Union, whose lawmakers feel that standardization and safety are top priority. The trouble is that pasteurization kills bacteria, but in doing so destroys most of the character that leads to the magnificent variety of textures and flavors in French cheese.

But Parret is optimistic: “As long as customers ask for fine cheese, it will continue,” he says. “Just now we are doing a lot of business with Germany.”

When customers ask for advice, Parret steers them toward a carefully balanced selection. The classic French cheese tray, served after the main course, includes a soft paste cheese such as Camembert, an aged hard cheese, such as Gruyere, a goat cheese and a blue. They will be set on a board or flat wicker tray, on fresh vine leaves if the season permits, and passed for guests to cut a sliver of each.

Cutting is tricky if the last person is not to be faced with mangled crumbs. The aim is to cut a cheese in slices (if square) or wedges (if round) which preserves the original shape. The cardinal sin is to cut off the “nose,” or tip, of a wedge of cheese.

Brie is Parret’s best seller. In an average week, he sells over 60 of them, around 500 pounds of cheese. They come to him 20 to 25 days old, to be aged an equal length of time in his care. Sens is only 40 miles from Meaux, center of brie production. Melun, home of a smaller, slightly thicker version of brie, is even nearer.

There’s no doubt as to which Parret prefers: “Brie de Melun has more character, more bouquet and a touch of salt.”

I ask Parret what wine he likes with cheese and there is a long pause. Clearly, it is a tough choice.

“Well, I usually serve a local pinot noir. But there’s nothing wrong with a white, perhaps a sancerre.” Then his tongue bursts loose.

“Of course, you could think of a drop of port with blue cheese, or a sweet wine for a triple cream. Chablis (the region is 50 miles from Sens) is too dry, but a red from Burgundy’s Cote d’Or, eh bien …”

His face breaks into a broad, beaming smile.

Madame Parret’s Cheese Toasts

Monsieur Parret’s wife Huguette has a dozen recipes for leftover cheese. This one calls for Morbier, a creamy aged cheese that melts well, but other cheeses such as Gruyere, brie, soft goat cheese, even Cheddar, do equally well.

4 large slices country bread, cut inch thick

1/2 cup medium-dry white wine

1/2 pound Morbier or other cheese

1 onion, thinly sliced

Salt, black pepper

Spoon 2 tablespoons wine over each slice of bread and set them in oiled baking dish. Thinly slice cheese, including crust, and set on bread to cover it completely. Sprinkle with onion and salt and pepper to taste.

Bake at 400 degrees until cheese is melted and brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve very hot.

Yield: 4 servings.

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