Daily Archives: January 28th, 2013

Où êtes-vous, Roquefort?

Roquefort_2019009bThere’s blue cheese and then there’s Roquefort. I developed a penchant for the latter during three years of French class. Oui, oui!

Blue cheese is a general classification of cow’s milk, sheep’s milk, or goat’s milk cheeses that have had cultures of the mold Penicillium added so that the final product is spotted or veined throughout with blue, blue-gray or blue-green mold, and carries a distinct smell, either from that or various specially cultivated bacteria. Some blue cheeses are injected with spores before the curds form and others have spores mixed in with the curds after they form. Blue cheeses are typically aged in a temperature-controlled environment such as a cave. Blue cheese can be eaten by itself or can be crumbled or melted into or over foods. (Source: Wikipedia.)

Roquefort is a variety of blue cheese, but to be called “Roquefort,” by law, it must be “aged in the natural Combalou caves of Roquefort-sur-Soulzon.” According to legend, it was in those very caves when a young man, tempted by a beautiful girl, abandoned his lunch including ewes’ milk cheese in a cave. When he returned to the cave a few months later, he was startled to discover that the mold (Penicillium roqueforti) had transformed his forgotten lunch into Roquefort. Viola!

Only the French could have such a romantic backstory about the invention of a cheese.

The other day I was thinking about First Meal. I’ve been spending a lot of my time planning what I will eat after my 39-days of Abyss Island are over. I’ve taken to calling it First Meal and it has assumed legendary importance in my life. The odds on favorite is currently homemade fried chicken. Oh yes.

I was thinking about this when I remarked to my wife, “You know what I want to eat for First Meal?” She just rolled her eyes. “What the hell ever happened to Roquefort, anyway? I used to look for the official seal, then poof. One day it was just gone man.”

Well, I think found out what happened. And, believe it or not, the trail leads right back to George W. Bush. Holy moldy! Son of a bitch!
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