They call it the “King of Cheeses”, and Roquefort is undoubtedly one of the most instantly recognisable of all of France’s fabulous fromages, thanks to its bone-white flesh pierced with flashes of blue-green mould and the perfectly balanced creamy-tangy flavours that are liable to send one’s mind wheeling off in the happiest of deliriums. It’s impossible to imagine a cheese board worth the name that doesn’t contain a good chunk of Roquefort cheese, rich with all the flavours of a lustrous, indeed spiritual, heritage.
It was Roquefort cheese that received the first ever AOC (appellation d’origine contrôllé) back in 1925, and its reputation was further secured with a Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) in 1996. But its roots go back much further back than that, to at least 1411 when King Charles VI gave the rights to age Roquefort cheese to the village of Roquefort-sur-Soulzon near Toulouse. There, in labrynthine caves formed by the collapse of the Combalou mountain, thousands of rounds of cheese are now matured every year — at least 19,000 tonnes worth — by just seven producers.
Made from the milk of Lacaune ewes that feed on the vast limestone plateau in the Aveyron, the cheese’s distinctive mould comes from penicillium roqueforti which was traditionally formed by leaving rye bread to mould in the caves — two producers still create it this way: Papillon and Carles. However, the milk and the mould are just two parts of the mix that results in Roquefort. The third part comes in the formation of the caves in which the cheese is matured. Their unique and consistent structure, humidity and aeration makes them as integral to the process as all of the other elements — perhaps one of the most distinctive expressions of terroir that is to be found.
These plateaux are part of a wild and arid region that is good for little other than grazing sheep because the porous limestone soaks up all the rain that falls there. However, they aren’t large enough to sustain the kind of production needed for modern demands, so some milk is permitted to be supplied from Corsica and the Pays Basque where conditions are deemed compatible.
But Roquefort’s roots go back much further than the King Charles VI, who was bonkers but at least had excellent taste. Evidence of cheesemaking in this area goes at least back to Roman times, though it it not known when the caves began to be used for storing and ripening cheeses. The first definite record of a Roquefort cheese dates from 1070 when an aristocratic lord donated a ‘cave’ and a manor to the Benedictine Abbey of Conques. Monks continued to play a key role in the development of Roquefort, with the Templars and Cistercians eventually operating a near monopoly.
Of course, because it’s French, Roquefort’s origins are traced in the lines of a love story. Legend has it that the cheese was discovered after a young herder spied a beautiful girl in the distance and instantly abandoned his meal of bread and ewes milk cheese so that he could bound off and “woo” her. Returning a few months later, the would-be lover returned and found the remnants of his lunch and then discovered that his plain old sheeps cheese had transformed into a glorious Roquefort riven with blue-green mould. The legend doesn’t tell us, but one can only surmise that the girl had quite rightly sent such a careless dope packing if he was by then hungry enough to tuck into a mouldy old sandwich. But at least it shows that not all failed romances are doomed. Or, at least, not doomed for everybody.
A good Roquefort is balanced, not aggressive, creamy like butter and tangy-salty with a touch of sweet. It is known for going extremely well with nuts and figs, but there are some other equally rewarding combinations that can be made, including beef — which is why it’s so incredible on burgers — avocado (think we’re crazy? try it), celery, chicken, broccoli and, of course, and bacon (some would argue that absolutely everything goes with bacon though).
But for an incredibly quick, simple and delicious supper, simply melt 25g butter with three large sage leaves (whose bitterness beautifully counters Roquefort’s salty-sweet flavours), and stir for a minute over a low to medium heat. Then crumble in about 75g of Roquefort and 150ml of thick cream and allow it all to meld then remove the sage, season and serve over gnocchi or pasta. Bon appetit!
