June 29, 2012
Last night there was the
craziest storm. So, we couldn’t close the windows in our hotel room because it
was swelteringly hot, and around 5am the thunder started booming. It was
violent and earth-shattering. Thus, the time to wake up came far too early.
Breakfast was awesome! I was
so torn because I’m pretty sure I was still full from the night before. But for
the first time since coming to France, breakfast was more than just bread. So,
of course, I had to embrace the moment, go down a notch on my belt, and dig in.
There were eggs, whole fruit, cereal, and yogurt (my favorite)—of course bread
and croissants were options, too, but there were so many other things!
Once again, I was really
full. We left hotel and boarded the bus to go visit a farm where they were
making Comte (yummmm).
When we arrived, the milk truck was still in the driveway and huge copper vats were being heated and
stirred.
We then watched as the contents of one vat were pumped and showered
over another tub with 8 molds with sieves.
The molds were catching the curd,
and as we watched, the copper vat emptied to completion, the sieves were
removed to leave behind the metal mold, filled to the brim with fresh curd.
These were smoothed, capped and set on racks by machine to drain further.
They
then set up for the next batch. We learned
that they received their milk from a cooperative of farmers who
independently did not produced enough milk to make the cheese. This facility
would process 4 or 5 batches of milk per day to yield 32 to 40 wheels of Comte.
After observing the process,
we were shown the rooms where the cheeses age for several weeks. On sight,
there were thousands of cheeses waiting to be sent to caves for further aging. Like
all the other cheese facilities we’d been to, this one had a store as well. But
in this store, we could taste some Comte. Could I resist? Ha. No way.
We stopped off at the Jura
market that afternoon to purchase some supplies for a picnic lunch in the
mountains before our visit to an old fort, where they now age Comte up to 4
years. I picked up a cucumber and some irresistible 26 month Comte. Now this
cheese… this cheese. I really hope I can find some at home. Our picnic was
pretty epic. We had bread (weird, right?), a wide variety of cheeses, carrot
salads, cantaloupe, figs, cucumber, tomatoes, cherries, and so on. We also had
the opportunity to try real English Cheddar cheese FROM Cheddar. Now, after
that, I really don’t understand how they got American Cheddar. Why abandon the
method of something that was already so good? Or defame it’s good name with
such an imposter? Oh geez… I’ve been spoiled.
 |
| Our bus tried to fit though this tunnel... It was WAY too big. |
Filled to the brim, we
entered the Comte storage facility. Unfortunately, all the food began to take
its toll. This is precisely why I can do big lunches. I could hardly stand I
was so tired. At one point, when I was standing as far as possible from the
creepy mannequins which were demonstrating the cheese making process in
repeated, rigid motion, I leaned against a wall and started to fall asleep on
the spot. I was jolted awake as my knee started to give out under me. I
resorted to pacing.
As I said, the facility used
to be a fort, so the walls were several feet thick stone. Thus, the temperature
in the cellar was naturally seven degrees Celsius year round. We entered the
room where there were 4-year-aged rounds of Comte. The stench of this room set
our eyes watering and sent us running: it absolutely reeked of ammonia. It
turns out that this smell is a natural product of the aging process because as
proteins are breaking down, they release nitrogen compounds, therefore,
ammonia.
We ended our tour with a
sensual movie with a man in a robe talking about all the efforts involved in
caring for the Comte during the aging process and producing a high quality
product. And again, we were provided with a tasting of 6 month, 12 month, and
18 month Comte cheeses. The 12-month was produced using summer’s milk and had a
distinctly more yellow hue. Further, it was texturally different. It was more
crumbly, whereas the non-summer milk cheeses were slightly more firm and
rubbery. All different, all delicious.
After lack of sleep last
night because of the storm, all the food today, and the intense heat, I readily
stretched out in the last row of seats on the bus and fell right asleep for the
entire ride home.
- Adrianne Speranza
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