Salva Cremasco, a cheese that can take you there
Last night I attended a casual mini trade show in Somerville MA. Gorgeous cheeses from around the world were out and available for sampling - including 6 I'd never tasted before. The crowd was small so you could actually talk to producers, and diverse, which made it interesting. Spain made a big showing, including a range of raw sheeps milk cheeses, and a lactic set goats milk from brand new Santa Gadea. Giovanni Guffanti Fiori brought a southern italian bell shaped 3 milk cheese covered in ash. Made with (I think he said) Maltese goat milk, this was a wild and wooly ride around a barnyard. I like it! but it is not for the faint of heart.
I brought The Man along too. He doesn't attend many cheese events. After tasting nearly every single thing on the tables (I tried to warn him to pace himself, but it's not easy to moderate when you're faced with cheeses you NEVER EVEN KNEW EXISTED) he ran through a long list of favorites. I have no idea what they are because he lost the names in his cheese haze, but he describes a raw spanish sheep cheese with a rind like a carving with great reverence.
And me? I had a special cheese experience too. I've had cheeses that made me cough, and sneeze. I was once shoked by a cheese that squeaked loudly when nibbled, one that so reeked of wet dog I nearly tossed it before discovering the taste was like buttered toast, and even one that summoned a snowstorm in summer. Last night, however, Salva Cremasco made me lay down in the high mountains of Lombardi and roll in summer grass. Made from saved--or skimmed--milk (hence the name) Salva started with a tang (that was the interdimensional travel jolt), continued with a sweet low note (that was the summer sun warming my skin), and stretched on forever with flowers and grass (I fell down in the field and couldn't get up.)
Armchair travel at it's best.