OMG: Sheep's milk camembert

My mother's a big fan of sheep's milk cheese. She once transported a duffel bag full of cheese across thousands of miles by land and by air. I didn't know what she was up to until the day after we'd landed in New York. I opened our refrigerator and founds a shelf full of cheese with Portuguese labels or no label at all. I'm reminded of that episode of I Love Lucy where Lucille Ball attempts to smuggle an obscene amount of cheese from Italy by pretending a slab of cheese is a swaddled baby. [Season 5: Episode 26]

I'm embarking on a cheesescapade. I plan to taste each of the varieties of cheese listed by Fresh Direct, an online grocer. And, it's been marvelous. My latest discovery is the buttery heaven that is sheep's milk camembert. Here's the strange thing: I have recent memories of turning up my nose at camembert. It was tooo strong. And that smell. Something was rotting and why on earth would I want to put that rot in my mouth?

But now the white mold that forms the ripe rind of the cheese doesn't bother me. I use to cut it off as though it had cooties. Now it's part of the cheese's charm. Perhaps, I'm finally growing up. That is, before I had immature taste buds, and therefore I liked the bland. Now, I'm judging cheese on it's own terms. Yes, it's moldy milk. But there are ways to cultivate mold that bring out the greatest flavors.

"You can't get this cheese here," my mother explained when we questioned her about the alleged craziness of her heist. Pasteurization kills the flavors. The best cheeses are local, as is the cheese that caught my fancy. It's made by Old Chatham Sheepherding Company of Hudson Valley. Spread it in some toast. It's like butter. Literally.

Eat Like a Gorilla

That's right. Eat like a Gorilla. As part of my quest to eat as many kinds of cheeses as possible this year, I'm diligently cutting non-cheese calories. But smaller portions are not my style. I like food, and lots of it. So I've decided to eat like a gorilla. Serve myself with a trough.

The catch: I gotta fill that trough with fruits, vegetable, and other high-fiber foods. Gorillas get to EAT ALL DAY. And so can you, if you eat the high-fiber way. I'm lucky. My job has an excellent salad bar, complete with lightly marinated grilled vegetables. I simply ask for ALL the available items (except meat). Unlike the proverbial gorilla, I add both feta and goat cheese to my salad. OMG, the saltiness! Such briny beauty. I used to eat Athenos feta, but now that I've tried real creamy, salty fresh feta, I can never go back. Never.

I also add fruit to my green salads. Like grilled nectarines. And all kinds of berries: blue-, black-, straw- and raspberries. So yummy.

Because the ingredients are super-fresh, I don't need to add much dressing. I used to plop on tablespoons of an lemon-Italian House dressing, but I found that my salads actually tasted better when I added just a tablespoon or two of balsamic vinaigrette.

Basic rule of thumb: the fresher the food, the less work it takes to prepare yummy meals, and the less fat needs to be added.

With less dressing, you actually taste the crispness of the lettuce, and benefit from the bite of the vegetables. The individual flavors hold sway, whereas when you over-dress, it all blends into a fatty mush.

Don't dull your salads by coating your taste buds with too much oily dressing. I'm loathe to repeat the cliche, but alas, it's apt: less is more.

Fresh & Fridge Salad

The Job: Make the freshest salad possible without leaving the apartment.

The Mark: Yummy, sweet yellow peppers from Whole Foods - The vegetable was just sitting there in the crisper, almost begging to be used.

The Seductive Scent: dark basil plant on windowsill, also from Whole Foods - I took a few leaves. No one saw me.

The Scavenger Hunt Booty: pre-washed red radishes, and pre-cut white-with-green-splash cucumber - Yeah, somebody else did the work. But, if I didn't take it, it'd end up in the trash. Probably. Waste not, want not, and what not.

The Staples: Team 1, The Fridge: grated parmesan, mixed-pitted olives, feta, pickled peperoncini

The Staples: Team 2, The Pantry: sea salt, olive oil, sherry vinegar

The Rejects: limp mesculun lettuce and dry, chicken breast leftover from yesterday's Taco Night - I'm a artist, not a junk man.

The Sensual Break-down:

Color: bright yellow (pepper), yellow-green (pepperoncini), dark green (basil); red, highly contrasted with white (radish)

Texture & Sound (Crunch): peppers; radish; long wet slivers of cucumber

Texture, Slippery or Smooth: emulsifying effect of grated parmesan & feta crumbles when combined with vinegar & oil; feel of rotating oil-soaked olives on tongue as they resist the teeth

Scent: Basil (proof there are forces for good in the universe)

Taste buds: salty (cheeses, olives, anything pickled), mildly sweet (pepper); mildly bitter (radish); sour (peperoncini, vinegar) tempered by oil.

The Salad: So good, I ate it before I remembered to take a picture for The Whatever Cook.

Image: Oracle ThinkQuest Education Foundation