The bright lights of glamourous cheese selling, here I come!

My second week of initiation into the cheese world took place in a smart cheese boutique in Halles Paul Bocuse, a very classy covered market in the posh part of Lyon. Fromagerie Mons in the Halles is run by an esteemed cheeseman and Meilleur Ouvriere de France, Etienne Boissy.  (a prestigious prize for people involved in gastronomy in France, recognising them as having an exceptional talent). I have to say I felt quite nervous about this post having had no training, the idea of wielding a large double handled cheese knife and serving customers in such a respected establishment was fairly daunting.

Tous les blues

I began with simple tasks, which I found immensely enjoyable, breaking up a huge chunk of parmesan into tiny pieces to sell in little shiny boxes. Wrapping up individual St Marcellin’s, handling these weeny squidgy cheeses and popping them into special wrappers, each one slightly different but perfect in its own way. Joy!

Then came the time to serve customers and get to grips with the 100 or more varieties of cheese they stock. “Was it Tomme de Berger or Tomme de Bois Noir, Madame ?”

”Forme d’Ambert or Forme de Mont Brison, Monsieur?”

“ And why are you speaking in the quietest voice possible and mumbling into your whiskers, don’t you realise I’m trying to fulfill my cheese destiny!”

Saint Marcellin all wrapped and ready

Despite having a vaguely good knowledge of cheese I learnt something during my time at Mons. There is so much to know, so much to consider, my colleagues were so knowledgeable, ce n’est pas evident.

After locating the correct cheese amongst thousands that look identical, then comes the equally puzzling question of how to cut it. Lyre? Wire? Big knife? small knife? Teeth?

To be honest the answer was never teeth but I considered it.

Heres some basic rule if you ever find yourself working in a cheese shop by mistake,

Blue cheeses are cut with a ‘lyre’, and the hand fondles the underside of the cheese through some paper to finish the job.

Goats cheeses and smaller sheep and cow varieties can be cut with a smallish sharp knife.

Hard cheeses that come from large wheels of cheese such as comte, emmental and parmesan require the sexy double handled knife that makes you feel like a proper cheeseman but also reminds you that you have no upper body strength.

Then there are the tricky little buggers like Mimolette, an extremely mature cheese from the north of France whose canyonous  rind is covered in tiny microscopic mites which nibble it a fine dust. This must be cut with a wire that is wrapped around the cheese then pulled towards you to the sound of thousands of tiny screams as the mites perish.

"ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

Luckily lots of our customers liked to buy the teeny individual goats cheeses that were as pretty as individual handmade chocolates, decorated with an array of herbs and flowers from the region of Provence and in every shape you could imagine. 

My work experience fell right in the middle of the season for Chevre de provence, the goats have apparently been snacking on all the fresh green shoots and spring flowers and are now producing the sweetest, herby, flowery milk that’s perfect for these beautiful farmhouse cheeses. I was a big fan of Tomme de Pebre d’ai, ranging from firm, grey and flavoursome to orange, creamy and gooey depending on how mature it was.

Beautiful little chevres

One day my boss made a cheesecake, but this was no ordinary biscuit and Philadelphia affair this was a true cake of pure cheese. Taking a brillat savarin he sliced it into three rounds using the lyre. He then created a mix of marscepone and cepes mushrooms, and layered this mixture between the rounds of cheese like a cake, then finished it off by icing the sides with the mixture. Talk about GOURMAND!

And so after six days of hard work, I sadly said goodbye to my friends at the cheese shop, but I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the end of my cheese adventures…

"Chez Mons ce n'est pas que les produits qui sont bonnes"