Winnimere Cheese

I am blessed to know a great number of awesome people.  One such person, whom I feel particularly close to, loves to find and try new things and then share them.  She has often gone out of her way to find strange or unique things and share them with Dale and I.

Her latest find was something called Winnimere cheese.  She really hyped this one up... it is hard to find, a wee bit expensive, was eaten at the White House, and has won awards.  It is modeled after a similar cheese in Switzerland:  It is a soft, two month aged cheese from Ayshire cows.  This is wrapped in some moldable part of the spruce tree, imbuing the creamy round with a fresh spruce scent as it ages.  These are all traits common to the Forsterkase.  However, it is then doused with a particular beer to set it apart from its Swiss cousin.  Sounded intriguing, although I did worry about the spruce part... I've had spruce gum.  Not my favourite thing.  But, I couldn't wait to try it anyway.  Surely it must be awesome if it has won awards, right?

Please keep in mind that anything I say about my experience with this cheese is said as lovingly as possible.  The first whiff almost knocked me over backwards.  But, I was warned it was pretty pungent, so I didn't let that phase me.  I tentatively took a few more whiffs and, beginning to feel weary, finally just dove in for fear I'd lose my nerve.  It was surprisingly good... cold, creamy, silky.  I ate several more bites and began to feel all tingly.  Then I paused to talk to Dale about it and the scent rose up into my sinuses.  For a moment I saw stars and the room began to dance sideways.  I quickly ate more and the pleasant creaminess returned.  I began to feel nauseous.  I had to stop.  The cream was rapidly replaced by its... aroma.  I did not get smoke, meat, mustard or fruit, but rather, a dizzying bouquet of toe jam wrapped in the delicate balm of a spruce forest and doused with the fragrant perfume of death.  Somehow I never rooted out the scent of the beer, which I'm sure was lovely.  I suspect the LSD-like effects were preventing me from focusing my senses on that aspect.

I set the spreader down and took a few steps backwards as I regained my balance.  Dale, seemingly unaffected, shrugged and said it was OK but that he preferred pepperjack.  He wrapped the parcel back up and we agreed to share it with others to see if it might be appreciated more by someone else.

We took it to a friend's house for him to try.  He began unrolling the bag and seemed to think there was no cheese he didn't like.  Then he kindly asked us if we were sure it belonged in his basement as he quickly rolled the top of the bag back up in an attempt to seal in the refreshing flavours.  He was very nice about reminding us to take it with us when we left.  We have such honest, helpful friends.

I really love the texture of the cheese, it's very cool and creamy and would be an awesome dip if my sense of smell was nonexistent.  Until the next time I get all stuffed up and can't even smell cold germs, however, I think I'll stick with Brie.  Sorry, Winnimere, but... you're just not the cheese for me!

~w