Goat cheese is a staple in any food lover’s repertoire. But although we’re used to seeing it on supermarkets shelves, restaurant menus, and most well-supplied cheese plates, it’s a relatively recent arrival—at least for Americans, who, up until twenty-five years ago, only had expensive, imported goat cheese as an option.
But once goat cheese (also known as chevre) became popular stateside, its versatile yet unique flavor became a hit. Usually found as a soft, fresh cheese that is spreadable and minimally aged, goat is used in salads, cooking, and is eaten plain. Hallmarked by its pungent, earthy, goat-like tang, the stronger varieties can be an acquired taste for some. (As a kid, I liked to call it “foot cheese.”)
Besides its many wonderful incarnations, goat cheese is also easier to digest than cow’s milk cheese, making it a viable option for the lactose intolerant. It’s also lower in fat, cholesterol, and calories than regular cheese. (Not that you really need a health-related excuse to eat it.)
Wondering just how diverse this category of cheese really is, we pooled six different goat cheeses purchased in the San Francisco Bay Area and did a taste test. Two California, three French, one Spanish cheese, and a slew of crackers later, we found that goat cheeses are hard to stereotype, but easy to eat.
Bucheron, France
Price: $15–24 per pound
Bucheron is a log-shaped cheese, often sold as a thick, round slice, that is native to the Loire Valley in France. It is mold-ripened, which results in a bloomy, white rind. It ripens from the outside in, so near the rind it is soft and buttery, while the inner part is chalky or flaky.
Our tasters found it to have a pungent and salty flavor, with a rich, creamy consistency. Some described it as “intense” and most thought it would be best eaten alone or with fruit or crackers—not something you’d top a salad with.
Valencay Jacquin, France
Price: $25–30 per pound
Perhaps the most interesting looking of our goat cheeses, the Valencay also has one of the more fabled pedigrees. It was supposedly created as a perfect triangle in honor of Napoleon’s return from Egypt. But upon seeing the cheese, Napoleon, haunted by a bad time in Egypt, drew his sword and chopped off the top. Now the cheese resembles a trapezoid. It’s covered with a salted charcoal ash and allowed to mature, which causes a blue mold to cover the cheese. The result is a dark outside and a creamy-white inside. It is soft when young, but hardens almost to shredding consistency when allowed to age.
