So this woman walks up to the counter, " I'd like to try something new..". I asked her if anything caught her eye and a conversation began about her recent trip to France and some cheeses she had tried. Then she mentioned The Banon.
This woman is legend in our cheese dept. because, despite gentle insistance from my boss that this Banon was EXTREMELY aged and would require a discerning ( if not masochistic ) palate to appreciate, she bought the Thing.
My boss was so incredulous she called me from home later that night to tell me she had sold it. Now, there were two Banon originally from the same batch that sat and sat and sat in the case. I finally took one home and peeled back the desicated leaves only to discover a putrid, seething mass ( it may have actually moved of its own volition ) that would have made a billy goat puke. Selling the other would be a travesty in my mind but sold it we did and the customer who bought it was standing there before me. Did she like it? In fact, she loved it and wanted to know if we had more.
We didn't so we moved on to a beautiful Tomme de Savoie; an aged, raw milk mountain cheese, rustic and beautiful. I had one small piece cut from a previous wheel and two uncut wheels. We sampled the cut piece which was a good reference point and she decided to take some home. I brought out one of the small wheels to cut. The first thing I noticed was that the top of the cheese was sunken, generally a bad sign. I cut the wheel in half only to be hit with an ammoniated aroma, another bad sign. I tasted a bit; somewhat acrid and ammoniated but underneath that was this deep, fungal quality like dried porcini and dank cellar. The customer had wandered off to look at wine while I cut her cheese so I had a few moments to contemplate. Should I sell her this cheese? Would she be offended by its more challenging qualities? I decided to take the chance. After all, this is the woman who ate The Banon.
I took her the cheese and warned that the piece I was offering was from a slightly more aged wheel and if she didn't like it just come back in and I'd give her anything from the case of equal value.
She went on her way but came back a few minutes later asking about the edibility of the rind. I took this as a passive way to return the cheese and I offered to take it back and try something else. No, she sincerely wanted to know about the rind. Now, Tomme rind is thick and I would characterize it as inedible. The piece I sold her had a rind reminiscent of shoe leather. But, this was the woman who ate (and enjoyed) The Banon. I told her that on this piece of cheese I didn't prefer the rind but to try it if she was so inclined. A week went by before she returned and my heart raced a bit when I saw her. Thankfully she was back to buy more of the Tomme, not to berate me for selling her a cheese that was well into retirement. I forgot to ask her if she ate the rind.
There was a lesson for me here. I have always tried to be judicious in my opinions of a cheese when speaking to customers. In dealing with this woman, I was reminded of just how important it is to simply describe the qualities of a cheese with nuetral adjectives and an open mind. If asked my opinion I will gladly give it but, after this experience, I am more reluctant than ever to judge a cheese as 'good' or 'bad'. Taste, after all, is a matter of taste.
Posted by Aaron at March 12, 2004 12:07 PM | TrackBack