This was our meal yesterday, celebrating with champagne.
It was perfect. We didn't have to do anything but pop, cut, plate and eat.
And surprisingly, that cheese resembling a Stilton went suavely with the bubbly. Didn't expect that, but we dared to try, and it worked.
The cheese, which doesn't even have a name yet as far as I can tell, is designed to resemble a Stilton, but the cheese lady told Cranky, "We're not allowed to call it Stilton."
Because it's made in Marin County, zillions of miles from Stiltonshire. Appellation contrôlée and all.
It comes from Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese Company, from whom we have been buying a wonderful blue cheese for a good few years now. It's clear they know their mold inoculation.
This, um, let's call it "Stilter" (anyone reminded of a Monty Python skit?), is new for them. It is yellow, buttery, mildly tart. Yummy texture; a little soft but it definitely slices. Less in-your-face than an English Stilton. The wheels are smaller (and you can see in the picture that it has been cut in half horizontally).
Verdict: So damn yeah. I hope they continue making this cheese; I suspect they showed up at our farmers market (for the first time!) to get a general reaction from the public on their latest experiment.
I wish I could tell you how to find some; their website hasn't been updated since January, it looks like.
Oh, the rest of the plate. White peaches with some fanciful name like Pink Tutu. Bing cherries as big as beef hearts. Mouth toys, basically. Good with the cheese and champers (which, because it was made in California and not Champagneshire, we must call "sparkling wine," eek).
A good, good day.