Cheese and Culture – Paul Kindstedt

A cheese scientist at the University of Vermont by trade, Kindstedt’s Cheese and Culture traces the history of cheese and its role in Western Civilization. I grimaced at “Western Civilization” in the subtitle, but was reconciled to it because, as Kindstedt argues, cheese as it is currently known is a largely western phenomenon because lactase tolerance in adults was more common in the Middle East and Europe than elsewhere in the world.

Kindstedt starts in the Fertile Crescent with the domestication of dairy animals, but convincingly shows that the inability to process dairy meant that these animals were not milked, but used for meat and hides. The change came, he argues, when at a time of ecological crisis and food shortage that saw the milking of animals to feed children and, eventually adults. Cheese and butter, which retain much of the nutritional value of milk but eliminate some or most of the lactose, followed soon after. By biblical times, fresh cheese was an appropriate gift for deities.

The strongest element of Cheese and Culture is the careful observation of changes in cheese-making techniques, which is perhaps to be expected from a scientist of the processes. For instance, Kindstedt meticulously charts types of cheese fermentation, particularly acid, heating, and rennet, the last of which he reasonably posits came about by shepherds witnessing cheese curd in the stomachs of slaughtered animals. Thus Kindstedt leads the reader through changes, including Roman agricultural manuals on farm practices, monastic cheese production, and the transition to industrial cheese production.

It is on that last issue during the 19th Century that I found most interesting. Cheddar was the king of American cheese production during the entirety of the 20th century despite Cheshire having been the most common in 1851 when the first “cheese factory” opened in upstate New York. But Cheddar was easier to develop industrial processes for, including guidebooks on measurements, cooking temperatures, and so on, as well as being a cheese that lent itself to production in large blocks. Then, with the Civil War forcing women (the usual cheesemakers) to do other work on the farm and England lowering tariffs on cheese in desperation to feed of a burgeoning population–and that London particularly loved Cheddar, industrial cheesemaking exploded. However, industrial cheesemaking also diluted quality and taste because overproduction drove prices down.

Cheese and Culture is a book that is strikingly “Vermont,” including that there are several sentences complaining about EU trade regulations about naming rights on cheese and mocking the idea that Vermont Cheddar would have been named something like “Vermont Delight.”

There is a lot to recommend Cheese and Culture, but it is not without flaws. First, although Kindstedt does a passable job covering cheese in Greece and Rome, his framework is still somewhat set along the lines of the bible since the epitaph for each of the early chapters is taken from the Bible. Second, it is possible to quibble that cheese is as central to a narrative of world history. For instance, Kindstedt has a tendency to elevate cheese in places where cheese is but one of the commodities being traded, which might suggest a manipulation to make cheese more important than it actually was. (Not that I am unsympathetic, I might add, as a loyal son of Vermont and fervent caseophile.)

Third, the scope of Cheese and Culture is so large that Kindstedt necessarily speaks in some generalities. This is particularly true in the latter stages of the book where, after describing how there came to be a diversity of cheese (largely the result of variations in geography), Kindstedt falls back on generalities about American versus European cheese and the admittedly interesting account of trade wars.The problem is not that it doesn’t work in the context of this book about “Western Civilization,” but rather that he hints at a wider story about cheese in America. For instance, there is emphasis on New England cheese, but nothing about California or Wisconsin, and only passing mention about how Cheddar (probably including American) was the dominant cheese in America until passed by Mozzarella in 2001. The cause of mozzarella’s (and presumably other cheese’s) relegation? It was considered immigrant food. Just as with the bagel, there is a wider story about the American assimilation of food. This is not Kindstedt’s core theme and I should not criticize him for what he is not doing, but I found that adding one more section about the assimilation of non-Cheddar cheeses in America and regional variation would have strengthened the latter parts of the book. Instead, there is brief summation of the US-EU trade wars about cheese and brief mention of the return of artisanal cheese that offer taste in return for more money. These are important topics, but came across as somewhat anodyne compared to the more nuanced discussion about the creation of cheese diversity.

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I didn’t turn on my computer this past weekend in an effort to recharge a little bit, and so I have fallen behind on writing up my reading. I finished Ken Liu’s The Wall of Storms (Dandelion Dynasty Book 2) last week and Michael Chabon’s idiosyncratic The Yiddish Policeman’s Union this morning. I am not sure what I am reading next, but on the nonfiction front it will either be Charles Mann’s 1493 or Stephen Pinker’s The Better Angels of our Nature; in terms of fiction, I have too many options to list and am currently pulled in several different directions.

Why skimp on the cheddar?

Warning, this post is entirely self-indulgent.

It is a heady feeling; one part pure desire, one part anticipation of a pleasure that is just beyond your reach. Not the ache of an unobtainable pleasure–that mixture of pure desire and the hollow pain that comes from the knowledge that the pleasure is entirely out of reach–but the rush that comes with knowing what you desire and knowing how (and how quickly) you can obtain it. The inexplicable craving that makes the entire world become sharpened to the point of fogginess. You notice every sight and every sound but are utterly incapable of concentrating on any one of them. Your heartbeat quickens while your mind and your body demand release. With luck, obtaining what you desire happens quickly and your senses return to normal, sated and weary. If not, your senses slowly return to normal, but the desire remains, muted. No longer the heady anticipation it is replaced by an ache. It is not a permanent ache that eats away at you from within–not yet, anyway–but a dull ache that will only go away when the pleasure is obtained.

Yes, it is a cliche to compare food to sex, but I did it anyway. So there. In some ways, this is a knee-jerk reaction to a great sandwich I had for lunch (great bread, tomatoes, avocado, chipotle mayonnaise). But for a white cheddar cheese sandwich, the cheese was decidedly lacking. There was plenty of it, but the cheddar on the sandwich was bland, hard, and a bit rubbery. This may pass for cheddar cheese in some places, but the sandwich disappointed me. Cheddar cheese should be on the verge of crumbling, moist, tart, and rich. It should be decadent. For a good, but not great cheddar I recommend Cabot’s Extra Sharp or Seriously Sharp cheddar. It is tart and it crumbles. But, if you want a great cheddar, I recommend Grafton’s Three Year Cheddar. Grafton’s cheese is tart and it crumbles, but it also melts in your mouth and is delicate. It was the disappointment of the sandwich, combined with the memory of Grafton’s cheddar that brought on the heady feeling, now slowly receding into an ache.

The world is more-or-less back to normal. I’m on my way back to reading for my comprehensive exams and I am sure that more sober topics will follow. Pardon the indulgence.