Washed rinds, ripening and robots: inside the wonderful world of aged British cheese

Article originally published in The Telegraph 04/04/18.

Washed rinds, ripening and robots: inside the wonderful world of aged British cheese

Patrick McGuigan 4 April 2018 

The maturing of comté and gruyere is an art form in France – but cheesemakers here are finally catching up CREDIT: Rii Schroer

 

It’s the smell that hits you first. Deep beneath brick railway arches in Bermondsey, south London, the damp air inside Neal’s Yard Dairy’s maturing rooms is alive with aromas of yeast and mould. The source is impossible to miss. Rows of spruce shelves reach high up to the vaulted ceilings and are filled with huge truckles of cheese covered in mottled rinds.

Guiding me around this pungent cathedral of cheese is Owen Baily, the cheesemonger’s high priest of maturing. Baily has been nurturing cheeses to maturity for 10 years, and there are flashes of fatherly pride as we walk among the greats of British cheese, from Montgomery’s Cheddar to Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire.

“This is tasting really good at the moment,” he says gently patting the dappled rind of an organic Welsh cheddar called Hafod. I try it later and he’s right; it’s mellow and buttery with a long, savoury finish.

How much of this is due to the way it was matured is hard to quantify, but controlling temperature, humidity, time and microbes as a cheese ages plays a part in the final flavour and texture, says Baily. Techniques such as turning, brushing and washing the cheeses, as well as regular tasting, also make a difference. “There are relatively few places to train in how to mature cheeses,” he says. “We’ve learned on the job to a large extent. It’s about attention to detail, being methodical and rigorous, but also creative and analytical.”

The Neal’s Yard Dairy’s maturing rooms CREDIT: Rii Schroer

 

Specialist maturers are widespread on the continent where the dairies that make comté, gruyere and parmigiano reggiano sell young cheeses to “affineurs” (maturers), whose sole purpose is to ripen them to perfection. For various historical reasons, the dark arts of “affinage” are less ingrained here, but this is changing as cheesemakers and mongers better understand the process and its benefits.

Cheese is a living, breathing product made up of cultures and enzymes that are constantly influencing flavour and texture. Get the conditions right and you can turn a good cheese into an extraordinary one.

It’s a key reason why Neal’s Yard moved to its new HQ in Bermondsey Spa earlier this year. The site has 50 per cent more maturing space than its old premises on Druid Street with temperature and humidity-controlled rooms for different styles of cheese. “I don’t know anywhere else that has this kind of set up in the UK,” says Baily.

Hard cheeses are kept at a steady 52F (11C) and 90 per cent humidity, but there are also five smaller rooms for soft cheeses and blues, where the impact of maturation can be seen (and smelled) even more clearly. “Cheese would be pretty boring without yeasts and moulds,” says Baily. “We work hard to create the correct environment to encourage the kind of activity we are looking for.”

Activity like the flossy white mould that has fluffed up all over a goat’s log in one of the rooms, while in another a young cheesemonger studiously spreads water on to the rind of a soft cow’s milk cheese with a paint brush. Washing the rind encourages specific microbes that give the cheese a sticky, smelly orange rind and meaty flavour, explains Baily. “Half our labour is in these rooms, but they only account for one fifth of sales. They are difficult to handle, but it makes all the difference.”

Left: wheels of rollright cheese, made in Oxfordshire by David Jowett. Right: Sparkenhoe Red Leicester testing being tested with a cheese iron. CREDIT: Rii Schroer

Washed rind cheeses are common in France, but there is also a new wave of whiffy British cheeses hitting the market. Rollright is a soft cow’s milk cheese encircled by spruce with a blushing pink skin. Made in Oxfordshire by David Jowett, it’s similar to reblochon and vacherin with a gentle doughy flavour from the rind and a texture like quivering custard. “It’s fairly approachable for a washed rind,” admits Jowett, who matures the cheeses at the dairy for four weeks, encouraging different waves of  yeasts and bacteria to form on the rind by washing it in brine.

Cheddar-maker Tom Calver at Westcombe Dairy in Somerset is also seeing the benefits of good microbe management, after building an underground cheese cellar on the family farm. The cellar is kept at a stable 50F (10C) with enough space to hold more than 3,000 of Westcombe’s 55lb cloth-bound cheddars.

It’s also home to the country’s first cheddar robot, nicknamed Tina the Turner, which trundles up and down the cheese-stacked shelves turning and brushing the truckles to remove mites. “The cellar has made a huge impact,” says Calver. “The flavour profiles are cleaner and we’re not getting nearly as much bluing. The moulds on the rind look and feel healthier.”

Back at Neal’s Yard, Baily is checking a batch of the blue cheese, Stichelton. A cheese iron is plunged into the rind and a plug of ivory paste laced with blue veins is withdrawn. It’s salty, creamy, spicy and utterly delicious. Not that Baily is claiming all the credit. “The cheese definitely tastes better, but that’s not just about what we’re doing,” he says.

“The cheesemakers have got better as well. There are more people making cheese with thought, energy, determination and reliability. If a cheese is not made well, there is only so much we can do as maturers. It’s not magic."