Estate Living Magazine Retirement Living - Issue 40 April 2019 | Page 61

G O O D
L I F E
Cheese spread Second Thursday
You can’t keep a good idea down, so soon the arty Greeks were also
making cheese, using the same method of milk coagulation. Most Greek
homes had a small room next to the kitchen, called the caseus, where
cheese was made a few times a week. Of course, the roaming Romans,
who were not really known for inventing things but rather for perfecting
them, did the same with cheese. They developed cheeses that could
last for longer periods – think Parmesan – and, more importantly,
spread the idea along with the not-really-peaceful-at-all Pax Romana as
Julius and his soldiers invaded surrounding territories. Of course, the
French, Germans, Spaniards, Dutch and English will deny it, but it was
the Romans who taught them to make cheese while colonising them.
Later, during the many bloody wars that took place on the continent of
Europe, it was the monks who preserved the art of making cheese –
mostly high up in the Alps and Pyrenees. During this time, and for many
years to come, cheese making remained a cottage industry like baking
bread, making wine and curing meat. During the early 18th century,
French restaurants began to understand the gourmet value of cheese,
and literally brought it from the peasant table to the fine restaurants of
Paris and Lyon. At about the same time, large cheese factories mass-
produced affordable cheese that provided a relatively cheap nutritious
food for the increasing army of factory workers that fuelled the industrial
revolution. The 10th of July 1952 was a Thursday in the town where I grew up, and
my parents had invited a visiting minister of religion for supper. This
kind gentleman had brought with him, from Cape Town, a portion of
cheese to be enjoyed after the meal. It was a blue cheese that had been
made in the then province of Natal. Although yellow sweetmilk cheese
was enjoyed in our home, blue mould was a no-no on food in our house,
so my parents politely declined to taste the mouldy cheese. Out of
curiosity, I accepted a slice on a cracker from the dominee. My parents
were watching me closely, probably to see if I was going to faint, and
perhaps to resuscitate me if I did. Well, I didn’t faint, but the resulting
flavour burst in my mouth changed my life forever, setting me on a path
of ever greater and greater involvement with cheese – my life, my job,
my passion. Today, some 67 years later, and after 50 years in the cheese
industry, I can still remember the flavour of that blue cheese.
By the early 20th century, cheese had spread from its birthplace in the
Middle East and its nursery in Europe. It was served on ocean liners, and
introduced as a new and exciting flavour sensation in the 1920s. By the
middle of the century, it had become a staple in many places, including
South Africa. But there is cheese, and then there is cheese, and in South
Africa in the mid-20th century there were basically two types of cheese
– sweetmilk and cheddar – and both were bright yellow, rubbery and
pretty bland, really. But then another Thursday rolled by. (There had
actually been lots of Thursdays in the preceding seven centuries, but
none of them was really important.)
Full circle
Being part of the industrial cheese-making scenario for many years
was exciting but, in the mid-1990s, small-scale artisanal cheesemakers
the world over reversed the trend and brought cheese making back to
the caseus – that little room off the kitchen. This brought a whole a new
dimension to cheese making throughout the world and, in South Africa,
we started seeing unique cheeses made by enthusiastic amateurs in just
about every province of the country. Hardly surprisingly, I fell in love with
cheese all over again, and revelled in every aspect. The colour of their
rinds – orange, brown, yellow and black. The creamy, vegetal, buttery
and earthy aromas awoke my senses, and I could not wait to taste each
new cheese as it emerged from a kitchen, a shed, a garage, or a small,
specially built cheesery on some tiny plot of land. I started to see cheese
as so much more than a mere promise of gastronomic pleasure. Each
cheese represented a small universe, maybe a family living on a farm
with their own dreams and circumstances.
Come and celebrate, taste, share, enjoy
O
Kobus Mulder, who studied dairy science when cows could still
jump over the moon, has been the chief judge of the annual SA Dairy
Championships for 50 years, and regularly judges in the USA, UK,
France, Spain and Italy.
Kobus Mulder ( Mr Cheese)
By the early 21st century, South Africa had such a wonderful offering
of new boutique cheeses that they had to be showcased – and so the
Cheese Festival was born. Starting small in the Cape Winelands, it
was a hit from the beginning because South Africans were hungry for
new cheese flavours and textures. Today, nearly 20 years later, cheese
lovers still stream to the Cheese Festival to taste cheese – but also other
related foods and, of course, wine. It’s held on Sandringham Farm near
Stellenbosch, and this year it’s on from 26 to 28 April, booking through
Computicket. Look out for me – I will be the one walking from stall to
stall with a big smile on my face.