Livarot

In Normandy, not so very far from where the Allies landed, sit two famous cheesemaking towns.

One is Camembert, well known the world over. The other is Livarot, home to a thousand-year-old cow’s-milk style that is justly beloved by the French, though perhaps not so well known in the United States.

It feels very much like a farmer’s cheese, with an enormous aroma and a rustic, semisoft texture. In fact, most production today is commercial, but to exacting standards. Result: a product that’s bolder than Camembert in every way—taste, smell, texture—but which retains a certain earthy elegance that would be rare in a hand-made farmhouse cheese.

Livarot comes in little disks, with an orange rind that’s been brine-washed during aging and wrapped with five red strips of paper (called laîches) to hold the shape. The distinctive cross-cut pattern that emerges resembles a French officer’s stripes, giving Livarot its nickname, “La colonel.”

Despite its rustic provenance, the cheese can be moody. Serve it too young, and it may seem relatively disinteresting. But if it ripens too long, it becomes inedibly stinky (if it smells like ammonia, it’s a goner).

PAIRINGS: Livarot and Calvados, the Norman apple brandy, are a traditional match. Hard cider is good too, or bieres de garde, the full-bodied, slightly sweet French country ales like Jenlain. Fruits like apples and pears are likely matches, as well.

Click here to buy some.