The day before I left France, Anita & I hotfooted it to Auchan for returning-to-England supplies. That translates as EUR35 on praline chocolate, fancypants biscuits, Maille Dijon mustard, dried cepes, tomatoes that tasted like tomatoes, cold pressed hazelnut oil, white peaches and bucketloads of cheese.
I hadn’t really considered the mechanics of transporting the cheese home, bar rejecting a Maroilles & an Époisses, because I knew I’d need a gas mask by the time we arrived at St Pancras. Unfortunately it all still smelt very delicious, and I felt rather sorry for my co-travellers in coach 15.
On Friday we had one of those sunny days in England that feels like the end of summer,with a little chill in the shadows, so laid the table outside and Muv, lil’sis & I fell on the cheese like ravening pigs.
One of the very few foods I cannot abide is blue cheese, so I indulged my tastes, and bought three super creamy cows milk,and two mild-medium local goats cheeses. The two goats cheeses are both Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée.
The village of Pouligny St Pierre is a mere 7km from my friends’ home in the Vienne, and is widely considered one of the best goat cheeses in France. Made from unpasteurised milk, it”s not too strong (the green packaged is fermier (farmhouse) and the red industriel (dairy), and is always this pyramid shape.
The Chabichou de Poitou is also unpasteurised and is a cheese with a lot of history (Wiki has the story.)
Brillat-Savarin from Normandy is the equivalent of rubbing extra cellulite in your thighs – it’s a triple creme Brie. But God it’s worth it. Saint Félicien & Saint Marcellin are very similar to each other – both from the Rhône-Alpes region, and incredibly creamy, soft rind cheeses that ooze and ooze as they ripen.