Frico. Think of it as a cross between a crouton and a cracker. In 100% cheese form. What could be bad about that?
(Absolutely nothing.)
It's Reader Request week, and you've asked for more ingredient spotlights. Since so often our weekly cheese column already is a specific profile on an ingredient—that is, cheese—it might be appropriate to deflect just a bit. This week we're highlighting a favorite accompaniment for cheese, which deserves the spotlight to itself.
Every so often, great food memories live unrealistically in your mind: sometimes the recollection of a meal can be more vibrant than the experience actually was in reality. I feared this would be the case with the ricotta at Manhattan's Il Buco Alimentari & Vineria, as there was no way that a ricotta redux could meet my inflated expectations after my first visit.
There's a pretty great rule of thumb when it comes to pairing wine with cheese: stick with white wine. It's safer because whites have significantly lower levels of tannin, and they're often lighter in body, which complements rather than overwhelms the flavors in cheese.
But what if you prefer red wine? Luckily, rules about pairing wine and cheese are meant to be broken. Here are a few tips for choosing the best red for your wedge.
The combination seems almost obvious now, but even after all these years working with cheese, I only came upon this last week. I've already started prosthelytizing about the merits of this duo, and I've even made a convert of a close friend, who served it to raving guests at her own dinner party over the weekend.
When it comes to this quick and elegant way to serve blue cheese, it's pretty easy to become a believer.
Nearly any cheese—if it's tasty to begin with—can stand alone as dessert. But how do you distinguish a cheese that's meant for dessert from one that's better suited as an appetizer? Surprisingly, all cheese has the versatility to go from pre- to post-dinner. With these few pointers, learn how to make any cheese look downright dessert-y.
I remember going to the farmer's market in San Francisco long before it relocated to the Ferry Building, when it was still in a parking lot by the Embarcadero. Any San Francisco native will brag about this with an "I knew it when..." kind of nostalgia and pride.
And way back when, I was also a frequent visitor of the Redwood Hill Farm stand, before it became what it is now: a full-fledged, bustling cheesemaking facility, with reach beyond Northern California farmer's markets. And so, when I saw it in my now hometown of New York, I couldn't help but feel a bit of wistfulness for those childhood days when I'd hop around, sampling Redwood Hill cheeses with mini wooden tongue depressors.
Perhaps this cheese doesn't fit so neatly under the small batch, handmade, esoteric umbrella of cheeses that I more frequently flaunt. It's yet another guilty pleasure, most definitely of the mass-produced variety. But allow me this brief mention, especially considering its convenience and straight-up (though admittedly not deeply complex) tastiness.