More than a cheese expert, we’re the cheese maker.
Farm to table.
Elevated.
My ooey, gooey, cheesy love story.
It all began with a profound love of cheese. Sliced, shredded, crumbled. Mild, sharp, pungent. I find every kind of cheese a delicious experience. I love discovering cheese wherever I travel. You never know what unexpected flavors await. As newlyweds in 2003, my husband and I found ourselves on an unplanned trek for cheese in Ireland. We spotted a tiny sign along the highway that just said, “cheese”. That was it. Just the word cheese. And we set off on a daylong excursion to find the magical cheese at the end of this rainbow adventure. We drove for what seemed like miles between tiny signs. Sometimes the word cheese was accompanied by the occasional arrow. A welcome encouragement that we were on the right path. Yes, the highway turned to gravel road lined with moss covered stone. The stone flanked road turned to barely two tire tracks in the path. And the occasional yellow painted stake in the road with a white sticker on it to continue to lead us. The image to the right is the actual photo we took on our cheese adventure. Just beyond the elderly man on the bike is the tiny yellow sign. Later we discovered that the little white sticker was the cheesemakers label used to mark his wheels of cheese. Hopeful for cheese, we trekked on.
Finally, hours later, the stone lined, overgrown green path parted to reveal a tiny farmhouse in a clearing. A dirt path. A speckled horse. And a few, very free-range unruly chickens. We looked at each other and each opened our car door and stepped out. There was no big sign. No indicator we were in the right location. There was nothing on a map. There was no GPS. No google. We were in the middle of nowhere and no one knew where we were.
As we approached the tiny farm house, the front door opened swiftly. A tall, slender, bright blond man emerged. He ducked through the doorway as he was taller than its frame could hold such an Irish giant. He approached. All he said was, “Are you here for cheese?” His accent was more Nordic than Irish. He was as short on words as he was tall enough to touch to blue sky. Clearly he had never kissed the Blarney Stone to receive his gift of gab. But we said, “yes”, and followed him as he ducked back into the farmhouse. We stepped into the tiny kitchen lined with massive baskets of onions, potatoes, and apples. Our giant led us down a short hallway to a small room. I’ve been in closets bigger than this room. The walls were lined with thin wooden shelves. The shelves were studded with wheels of yellow waxed cheeses. Hundreds of wheels of a single kind of cheese. It smelled mild, milky, and slightly sweet. Our giant placed an oversized wheel of golden cheese on a small table at the center of the room. and simply asked if we wanted to try it. Perhaps we were as awkward sparse with words so we just nodded yes. He turned around and in one sharp movement revealed a double handled knife, the width of his broad shoulders. Briefly, I thought, this is how people disappear and never return home. Then our giant deftly passed his massive knife through the cheese revealing the thinnest slice of cheese and presented it forward to us on the blade. We obliged. Because when someone hands you cheese, you accept. And he had the knife and we had nothing.
I placed the cheese on my tongue and I was transported. I closed my eyes and let the cheese cover my tongue and fill my senses. I was transported to that very moment and will never forget it. While I can describe the journey, the farmhouse, and our giant, the cheese is wholly indescribable. A taste and texture I still chase nearly 20 years later. This was the day, the moment, I fell in love with cheese. I will never stop chasing that perfect moment. Now, I make cheese to satisfy that eternal craving, that adventure, and bring you a slice of gold that you don’t need a rainbow to find.
Waste Not.
I began as a reluctant cheese maker. The entire process yields so much waste! Depending on the cheese type and process, more than 80% of the milk can be separated into whey and simply thrown out. As a sustainable baker and pastry chef, I just couldn’t contribute to more wasteful food practices. Until I created a solution. I now use all of the whey - the cast off by-product of cheese making - in several different ways. I’ve created a delicious artisan bread fortified with whey resulting in a crisp crust and chewy crumb. I also developed a whey reduction into caramel. This golden caramel is perfect drizzled on pasties and make an incredible dip for apples and topping for ice cream.
The result is delicious milk, turned into incredible cheeses, artisan breads, caramel and zero waste.
What’s in the cheese cave?
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Cheddar
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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Honey Bovre
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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Formaggio Ubriaco
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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The Blue
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Asiago
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Colby
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Aged Blue
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Cloth Bound Cheddar
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Manchego
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Black Currant Wenslydale
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Bel Paese
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Paneer
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Irish Cheddar
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Mozzarella
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