Cobb Hill: Four Corners & East Coast Privileges
What are some of the privileges of living on the east coast? Oh, Vermont. Being able to use "summer" as a verb without being looked at like you're a creep. Cobb Hill's Four Corners.
We don't get much Cobb Hill out here in Cali. If we're lucky, if we've been good boys and girls and the distributers we buy from are feeling giving and have CH when the stars are in the proper alignment, we might be able to pick up some Ascutney Mountain, but most sells out in Vermont. Most of what doesn't sell out in Vermont goes to NYC (another place were they actively use "summering" as a verb). And Four Corners, well, let's just say that it makes it to the bay area almost as rarely as George Bush Jr.
So you could imagine how happy I was when I got my hands on some Four Corners while touring Vermont in the beginning of August. Even better- I snacked on Four Corners and Ascutney Mountain in the Cobb Hill kitchen. In truth, it was a little difficult to eat the cheese in front of the cheesemaker while trying to appear semi-professional (I had to sit on my hands between bites to avoid from clapping them).
Four Corners, the focus on today's post, is Cobb Hill's version of Caerphilly. Caerphilly is a cheese that was created near Somerset, England, for miners. The women wiping up batches in their home kitchens made it so the cheese had a thick rind and firm enough texture that their miner men could pick Caerphilly up by the rind on their lunch breaks without worrying about getting the paste dirty or the slice falling apart. All hail the worker cheese.
Just like Caerphilly, Four Corners has a thick, dusty colored rind that gives when touched. I love the rind. If you press just hard enough on it, it will show a slight finger indentation, announcing your presence. I'm wondering if CSI script writers know about this- there might be room in the show for some awesome cheese finger print episodes.
Beneath the rind is a layered cheese. Directly under the thick exterior is a semi-soft, velvety layer the texture of a young provolone that is smooth and buttery. Underneath this is a slightly tangier layer that crumbles easily and, honest to god, tastes exactly how mac n' cheese should- creamy, buttery, a little earthy, and with just the right amount of tangy acidity so it feels like you could eat way more than you actually should (and of course, you do).
Dispersed through this post are photos I snapped when visiting Cobb Hill. Cobb Hill is a group living establishment that, frankly, I want to join. It's acres and acres of fun. Plow horses, tiny houses for kids to play in, lakes to swim in and ponds to skate on in winter. And of course, they offer their members great deals on cheese. I'm considering asking where their sign up sheet is.
Can you get many Cobb Hill cheeses where you live? Turns out they're going to start selling their wheels via the web soon, so if you're wanting like I am, we may be able to fulfill our Cobb Hill needs soon enough. Fingers crossed.