I don't go in much for the adulterated cheese. I'll have my cheese plain and simple, unsmothered in herbs and spices, thank you very much.
But this cheese caught my eye:my recent curiousity about "chanpon food", that is, the fusion of western and easern cuisine caused me to take a second look at this new product, Westfield Farm's wasabi chèvre.
I was afraid this cheese would be one of those other botched, fusion experiments. But to my happy relief, I turned out to be quite wrong.
Wasabi, or Wasabia pungens, a native of Japan, is closely related to the well known horseradish. It has a similar flavor, though I would argue, a much better one, as it has a level of complexity that is not masked by the incredible bite of Armoracia rusticana. Wasabi is used primariy, if not soley, as a dressing for sushi. In all but the best sushi restaurants, wasabi is served in its powdered form reconstitued with equal parts water. I'm sure you will all recognize the lump of unnatural green that you mix with your soy sauce. Fresh wasabi is completely different. And no, it's not bright green.
And neither was the cheese. I hefted it in my hand- it was a good 6 oz. If it was gross, I would be stuck eating it, or trying to convince others to do so (I hate throwing food away!). If it was delicious, well, I could always get more.
I suppose I lingered there for too long, looking undecided. The man behind the counter spotted me.
"That's really good," he said.
"Oh?" I responded, not able to shake the dubious note from my voice.
"Yes," he continued. "I convinced them to carry it."
I, like many, am susceptible to the suggestions of a charming young man, with falling auburn locks and shy brown eyes. "Well, now you can tell them, 'see? I told you it would sell.'" I said, putting the cheese down next to the register. He grinned appreciatively.
It was a risk worth taking. The flavor is nothing like what you might expect. It is most definitely cheèvre, with a gentle, nasal bite of wasabi. It's incredibly well balanced- just enough of the herb to give it a slight kick, a mellow, bitter undertone. From what I can see, there are bits of stem and leaf in there, which explains why they can sell it for cheep ($9 for the 6 oz), and still use the fresh stuff.
Posted by anne at January 6, 2004 05:44 PM | TrackBack