I am a Cheese Monger. Well, an apprentice actually. I believe the title of 'Monger' should be reserved for those who have been intimate with a least a few hundred cheeses. My tasting experience falls well short of that number but the hallowed halls of Mongerdom are within sight.
While I would like to make a profound statement like, ' I didn't choose cheese, cheese chose me' it wouldn't be accurate. The truth is my decision to begin a career in cheese was really just another of my lifelong attempts to turn my hobbies into careers. Most of us realize this is folly. We enjoy music but rarely decide to become musicians, we enjoy wine but don't dream of becoming wine stewards. But cheese had a spell on me. The thought of unfettered access to a world of cheeses had immense hedonistic appeal.
I went from manger to monger entirely by circumstance. I was fortunate enough to land a job working one weekend day a week at the cheese counter of my local natural food store. My second day on the job, my trainer ( the jilted lover of the bulk grocery lead ) decided to quit. I had no idea that my local market place would be awash in eddys of soap-opera drama. I just thought it was a cool place to shop for good food. Regardless, a 40 hour position was now available. Was I ready? I had spent the 6 weeks prior to working my paltry single workday cramming everything I could learn about cheese. I read Steve Jenkins, ' A Cheese Primer' from cover to cover three times. I raided the local library of every cheese book and read those thrice as well. I went on the internet and read everything I could possibly find ( I still do this regularly which is what brought me here ), I studied maps, histories and pronunciations. I was as ready as I ever would be without having actually tasted these cheeses.
When I started full-time my first goal was to taste, taste, taste. I wanted to taste those cheeses that only cheese mongers get to taste; the center of a freshly cut wheel of Parmesan made from Spring milk and still warm from microbial activity, cabicou's I could study daily and eat at their optimum ripeness, cave-aged Gruyere whose first gasp of air was ceremoniously granted by my cheese wire, Tallegio just unwrapped that smells like fresh hay and a clean barnyard.
Learning about cheese, for the monger as well as the customer, is a voyage of discovery. There is no Universite Du Fromage, I don't attend a regular schedule of cheese classes or tastings, there are no corporate cheese functions granted by my employer. It's all me. I read and I taste like everyone else. A cheese enjoyed is a cheese to be shared. So, let's talk cheese....
Posted by Aaron at March 3, 2004 10:24 AM | TrackBack