Endless Cheese Please!

In the beginning, there was Cheddar. Or in the home of my youth, Kraft American singles. DayGlo orange cheddar,(as Tom sniffed in referring to it,) might as well have been a gourmet cheese, though we never did sink to the level of Velveeta.

It wasn’t until Tom elevated my culinary existence to heights I could never have imagined in Kenner that I experienced any other cheeses beyond cheddars, the Pepper Jack my dad used on his sandwiches, Mozzarella for lasagna and pizza (made from the Chef Boyardee box,) and Provolone for muffulettas made at home.

Tom introduced me to stinky cheeses and creamy cheeses like Brie, Chèvre, and Port Salut. Where had this been all my life? (I did not have these thoughts about stinky cheeses.)

And then St. James Cheese Company arrived on the scene. A collection of cheeses from all over the world? In one place? Yes, I know about Murray’s in New York City (where the Joe of Nor-joe’s cut his cheese teeth.) I had never heard the word cheesemonger until the St. James Cheese Company cheesemonger Justin came on The Food Show and had me eating and loving cheese with an ash (yes, the remains from a fire) ribbon running through it.

The St. James Cheese Company sprang up here in 2006 when Richard and Danielle Sutton set up shop after leaving London where they began a life in cheese at Paxton & Whitfield, a centuries-old cheese shop in the St. James neighborhood of London, where all the great gourmet food items can be had. 

St. James is as much a restaurant as a food emporium, and the menu keeps expanding, with specials on a board, and a decent array of trendy tinned fish, with even a special dish for serving it!

Tom’s sisters and I had lunch there recently. The possibilities are dazzling. First are the boards. Boards of cheeses, boards of pates. I got a board for the table but it really was for one. Since the first time I heard of a Ploughman’s lunch I have been smitten by the idea. It happens to me a lot that I like the idea of something more than the thing. This is not the case with a Ploughman’s Lunch. It’s a UK thing and it just means working man’s lunch. But I love all the things on this lunch, and especially the gourmet version at St. James Cheese. A real one of these would have a simple slice of ham and one of cheese and some bread and mustard. The Ploughman’s Lunch at St. James is large, and I thought very reasonably priced for the gourmet items on it. A working man doesn’t usually eat pate, but that is on the board of the Ploughman’s Lunch here. It can be smooth or coarse, the diner's choice. There is also nearly a half baguette sliced and toasted, local Chèvre, a Bleu Cheese, and Cheddar, as well as coarse mustard or Dijon, cornichons, and a green salad of nice mixed greens with a light vinaigrette, and a generous dusting of grated Parmesan cheese. There was also a little pile of pepperone peppers and banana peppers the day I had it. 

I could eat like this every day. I chose the coarse country pate, which along with bread, mustard and cornichons makes a great bite. All of these cheeses were fantastic, and the little peppers added a kick to everything here. I loved the salad too, which had an eclectic mix of greens and was wonderful with the grated Parmesan. Delish.

One of the sisters had the Swiss Gruyere 1655 and caramelized onion grilled cheese, which also came with a side salad. The multigrain bread from Susan Spicer’s Wildflower brand was very toasted and the cheese and onions intermingled in a really rich, almost luscious bite. 

The other two sandwiches at the table were the Hook’s Cheddar on toasted ciabatta and a basic French Ham and cheese with butter on toasted baguette. Both came with more of this mixed green salad of eclectic lettuce with the light vinaigrette and a generous coating of Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.

The Hook’s 2-yr-old white cheddar and smoked turkey sandwich also had tomato, basil and avocado with a lemon pepper mayo on toasted ciabatta. This was as good as it sounds. Creamy avocado becomes almost its own spread when it mixes with the juices from the tomato, but the lemon pepper mayo is perky. And basil is always wonderful on sandwiches like this. The toasted ciabatta was perfect as bookends. 

It’s hard to beat the simplicity of a French ham and cheese sandwich on a baguette, the favorite grab & go street food in Europe. It’s just as good here. This toasted baguette was filled with Brie Pommier and thinly-sliced Fra’ Mani ham with French butter. It’s a simple and delicious bite, which is why it’s a classic.

This was such a delicious lunch I went back for some of the things I saw on the specials board the day of this lunch. They had a Creole tomato sandwich and a muffuletta. Both of these were a different take on the traditional understanding of each. Growing up with the simple and simply delicious Creole tomato sandwich of thinly-sliced juicy Creoles on white Bunny Bread with a generous schmear of our own Blue Plate Mayonnaise, I have been heartbroken for about twenty years that Creoles have gone to hell. They are mealy and tasteless. But it is interesting to see these sandwiches all over. Except they aren't the good Creole tomatoes and they aren't even close to the traditional version we remember. 

This one at St. James Cheese Company was on toasted white bread that was much better than the old Bunny Bread, but inside the sandwich were more but not better ingredients, like mealy Creoles, cucumber slices, fresh dill, and roasted garlic aioli as well as lemon-infused olive oil. This was a fine sandwich, but not a New Orleans Creole tomato sandwich. At least the cucumbers were extra crunchy, a trait I'm happy to notice everywhere. 

The muffuletta was also an interpretation of the local classic. It was first, a pressed sandwich. Inside was a good olive salad, some Provolone cheese, salami and pepperoni, with a smoked tomato condiment. Huh? Again, it was a good sandwich, just not a muffuetta.

I was reminded how wonderful this cheese-based place is. I will return soon for more of this. I still feel the same about cheese as I did when I was a kid and yellow cheddar and pepper jack were the most exotic versions of this wonderful dairy food. I always  want to say, more cheese, please.