The Return of the Truckle!

On May 1, 2018 By Mark BilbreyIn What Cheesemongers DoLeave a comment

I cracked another Flory’s Truckle yesterday. The excitement, somehow, hasn’t waned with repetition.

Customers often giggle at the term “truckle,” and I encourage every kind of giggling for any reason at my cheese counter, but in case you’re curious, a “truckle” is a British term describing a large-format, cylindrical (we often say “barrel-shaped”) cheese. Essentially, it’s in the shape of three wheels of cheese stacked on top of each other. A truckle is almost always a cheddar made in the traditional clothbound or “bandaged” style. (I’ve also heard the term used for a few other similarly shaped cheeses like Blue Stilton or even a non-English cheese like Pecorino Romano.) The cloth (often muslin) bandaging around the cheddar is typically slathered in lard before sending the wheel to age in a cave or cheese cellar. This technique protects the cheese as it ages, while also imparting earthy flavors and collecting beautiful, natural molds on the rind. Unlike cheeses aged in vac-seal, a clothbound truckle can still breathe and interact with its environment while aging, producing much more complex flavors and a more profound sense of terroir.

Mongers sometimes refer to cheeses in this format as “Barrel 3,” which just means that it should be cut horizontally into three equal sections (and then wedged out for customers from there). With a clothbound cheddar truckle like this lovely Flory’s Truckle from Milton Creamery in Iowa, I first score the cloth 1/3 of the way from one of the flat edges, all the way around. Then I cut through with a wire. With the disk I’ve cut away, I remove the cloth, cut it in half, and cut one of the two halves into quarters. These quarters will be placed in the display case, from which I can cut tidy wedges to order. The other half is placed in backstock. The remaining two-thirds of the truckle is still bandaged on all but the top side, so I can wrap it and place it in backstock knowing that it will still be in great shape when I’m ready to cut another disk from it and remove the cloth.

A truckle is a great format for a small cheese counter like mine because it holds up so well over time and yet allows me to cut very neat, proportionate wedges for customers without fully cracking into the whole thing at once, thus preserving its shelf life.

I tried to upload a video, but was reminded that I’m a cheapskate whose cheapskate plan doesn’t allow posting of videos, but feel free to check out my Instagram account to witness the process in action.

Cracking the Truckle

On March 26, 2018 By Mark BilbreyIn Cheese Porn, What Cheesemongers DoLeave a comment

florys1 — Cheesemonger happiness is preparing to cut open a new wheel. (Photo: Taylor Fregoe)

In a recent post, I gushed about Milton Creamery’s Flory’s Truckle. A couple days ago, I had the pleasure of cracking open another wheel. This one isn’t quite as aromatic and fruity as the last, but it’s still damn good. And frankly, let’s not expect real cheese to be especially consistent. It should vary for a long list of reasons (maybe I’ll address that in another post). McDonald’s is consistent. Ritz crackers are consistent. Kraft slices are consistent. But real cheese isn’t, and that’s okay. There’s always some anticipation when I open a new wheel–how will this one differ from the last? Sometimes I find something special, sometimes I’m mildly disappointed, but such is cheese.

In any case, cracking a big wheel of a beloved cheese is always a great pleasure. I feel like it deserves a parade. Sometimes I actually do take a little lap around the shop, holding the cheese above my head and making trumpet noises. It’s just so exciting! It’s an event! Clothbound cheddar is especially exciting because there’s such a buildup of anticipation as one peels the cloth away–the dust flies, the barnyard aroma fills the air. You convince a co-worker to sniff the cloth and then laugh when they make an ugly face. You cut into it, hoping not to find major flaws. You take the first taste and offer samples to co-workers and any lucky customers who happen to be in the shop.

For many cheeses, that first bite of a freshly cracked wheel is the pinnacle, the best it will ever taste. This truckle of Flory’s sat in an aging room for a year so some lucky jerk–me!!!–could finally open it up and enjoy the benefit of that long wait.

florys2 — Hi, Flory, you lovely thing, you!

flory4 — Flory in her element. (Photo: Katharine Azzolini)

Milton Creamery’s Flory’s Truckle

On February 18, 2018February 21, 2018 By Mark BilbreyIn Cheese Reviews1 Comment

One last post from the newsletter here. This cheese… good heavens! It makes me blush. How can it be so vegetal and fruity and grassy and savory all at once?! Anyway, I gotta thank Kat for dreaming up “Mark’s Cheese Adventures” for the PRB newsletter, making it look rad, and promoting this blog. And, hey, Milton Creamery, you rock. These folks in Iowa make only two cheeses–no fussing about–but they’re both immaculate. Go Hawkeyes!

florystruckle — (Image: Katharine Azzolini)

You can learn more about Milton Creamery here.

Roelli’s Dunbarton Blue

On February 18, 2018February 21, 2018 By Mark BilbreyIn Cheese ReviewsLeave a comment

Here’s another cheese description from PRB’s newsletter. Roelli is the master of the cheddar/blue hybrid, as epitomized in two of their cheeses: Dunbarton Blue and Red Rock. You’d be hard pressed (pun intended) to find anything like it. There’s Huntsman, from the UK, which is really like a layer cake of two kinds of cheeses (Double Gloucester and Blue Stilton)–not at all the same. And there’s Weinlese, a cheddar-blue combo that’s really more like a soft blue with a slight cheddar tang–again, not at all the same. Dunbarton represents American cheese-making genius–I expect it to be a long-lived classic.