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AN AMERICAN ACCOUNT OF PARIS : LIVING, EATING, AND TRYING TO SPEAK FRENCH

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

CHEESE TUESDAY - LANGRES





Since I'm a softy for soft cheeses I went for, yet again, another delicious soft silky stinky cheese for this week. I actually almost forgot that it was Cheese Tuesday until I passed my neighborhood boulangerie and realized I had no bread...or cheese! Luckily a fromagerie was just a few doors down and I bought a sweet little Langres to try. I, of course, butchered the pronunciation and said "Laun-gray" instead of the correct "Laun-gruh." Potato, potahto. The woman was very sweet about it at least and only gave a small chuckle before correcting my American accent.




Langres is an interesting little nugget of cheese. It's from, surprise surprise, the Langres region, and is traditionally served with champagne poured over the top. It has an orange hue to its exterior and delicate little ripples which make it look somewhat brain-like. It comes in a small, fat cylinder and is gushy and soft around the edges. Just the kind of weird stinky divineness that I look for in my fermented dairy.




The cheese was a wondrous texture, bordering between a soft butter and a smooth goat cheese, it was gooey on the outside and denser in the middle. It spread fabulously. Buttery smooth and with a nice rich buttery flavor to match. Though it looked, smelled, and oozed like something strong, it really had a fairly mild taste to it hitting all the right notes with a softness that I found pleasing and intriguing. There was a smooth bitterness complimented nicely but the creamy butter flavor. A mild nuttiness that slowly evolved to exhibit an underlying hint of fermentation that left a lingering sourness rolling around in my mouth.


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Before I knew it I had finished off half of my cylinder and I wanted more. It was one of those cheeses that could easily be eaten without even thinking about it because it wouldn't dare assault your senses, but the second you took notice you couldn't help but be enamored by it's innocent strength.

Writing this I can see it sitting across the table from me, quietly melting around the sides with its denser middle holding strong. It's beckoning me to eat more. And I may just have to take it up on that offer. I do have half a baguette left after all, and everyone knows those go bad in a night. I'd hate for that to happen.

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