Regional artisanal cheesemakers go above and beyond: Pierre-Louis Monteillet
When reviewing the artwork for this feature story on cheese I was struck by how much effort our photographer put into styling the cheese. The beautiful rounds adorned with whole peppercorns were striking. I complimented her on going above and beyond the call of duty but she informed me the cheese came that way! One more reason to support the many artisanal cheese producers in our region—the cheese is as great to look at as it is to eat.
-Deborah Kane
Monteillet Fromagerie's artisan cheeses. Photo by Christine Hyatt
THE FRENCH CONNECTION
A Northwest Cheesemaker Uses Techniques from the Old Country
Written by Angela Allen
For Fall 2007
Pierre-Louis Monteillet is easy to spot on Saturdays at the Portland Farmers Market. Wearing his trademark boater, graying ponytail pulled back, he cuts a debonair figure when he arrives on the South Park Blocks with several coolers of his farmstead cheeses.
When the market bell rings, his booth turns into a busy hub. All it takes for shoppers to ante up is a taste of his ash-rolled Le Roi Noir or Mejean, a syrah-soaked sheep cheese.
On a very good day, he sells as much as $1,200 of handmade cheese named for the plateaus near his former home in south central France. His cheeses range from a delicate herbed fresh goat variety to a soft-ripened Larzac, characterized by its inner layer of grape-leaf ash. The hard Causse Noir, made with two-thirds goat’s milk and one-third sheep’s milk, is aged for three months. His Provençale cheese is marinated in truffle-infused olive oil and is spiced with peppercorns, rosemary, garlic, and summer savory.
Each cheese is distinctive, and if you visit his booth week after week, each will taste slightly differently from the same type sampled the previous week. It all has to do with its artisan characteristics: handmade, farmstead, and seasonal.
Pierre-Louis and his wife, Joan, raise 35 French Alpine goats and 35 Friesian and Lacaune sheep on their 31-acre farmstead in Dayton, Washington, 28 miles northeast of Walla Walla.
Cheesemaker Pierre-Louis Monteillet at his Portland Farmers Market booth. Photo by Christine Hyatt
The fromagerie’s cheeses are featured at such classy Walla Walla destination restaurants as CreekTown Café, The Marc at Marcus Whitman, and Saffron Mediterranean Kitchen. The location in Walla Walla’s premium red-wine country has been fortunate. Walla Walla wineries are as hot on Monteillet’s cheeses as are market shoppers and restaurants.
Like a winemaker, Monteillet believes his cheese should reflect the terroir. “Our cheeses are made with the idea of terroir. Maybe it’s not scientific, but we try to capture the taste of the land,” in the same way that Old World wines hint of the earth where the grapes are grown.
Monteillet moved to the United States in 1979, after he met Joan in Mexico. They farmed wheat for 16 years at her family’s spread in Eastern Washington. Several years ago, they decided that making small batches of cheese was more suited to them.
In 2001, Monteillet returned to France’s Roquefort region, where he grew up, to learn how to make cheese with Dominique Castanier. Armed with traditional techniques and Joan’s animal-raising skills, he figured they could make a go of cheesemaking. He was right: The Monteillets churned out French-style cheeses that fast partnered with Walla Walla’s world-class cabs and merlots.
Despite his wine-country niche and market rock-star status, Monteillet says, “There is no money in cheese. After five years, we are starting to pay our bills.” If there is little wealth in making handmade cheeses, there is satisfaction in the milk-to-plate process, even if it requires dawn-to-dusk labor. As Monteillet says, “Making the cheese is the easy part. It’s everything else.”
Artisan cheeses are made by hand in small batches. Forget industrial techniques, chemicals, and big agriculture-raised animals. Some artisan cheeses are farmstead products, shaped from the milk of the family-raised herd. A few Northwest cheesemakers, like the Monteillets, raise their own goats, cows, and sheep for milk, almost entirely cutting out middlemen, other than feed suppliers. Farmstead cheesemakers have to buy alfalfa hay and, sometimes, grain for their goat and sheep herds, so the rising costs of feed fit into the equation of handmade cheese’s sometimes lofty costs.
Ancient Heritage Dairy’s Paul Obringer blends cow’s milk with goat or sheep’s milk, much like cabernet grapes are blended with merlot or malbec to make a smooth wine.
Cheesemakers who buy cow’s milk have felt increasing dairy prices, which have risen steadily this year due to a decrease in U.S. dairy farmers, high international demand, and the effect of ethanol production on the availability of corn for feeding animals. Rogue Creamery in Central Point, Oregon, uses 90 percent cow’s milk, and recently has raised its prices 5 percent to 10 percent.
Whether they buy milk or produce it on site, many cheesemakers, including Monteillet, are much more than culinary artisans.
“We are the vets, the sheep shearers, the hoof trimmers, the salesmen,” said Monteillet, who packs his cheeses to Seattle’s Pike Place Market every Friday before driving to Portland. “Sometimes you think you are killing yourself.”
And now Monteillet’s newest product, a sheep’s milk gelato in such flavors as Riesling and raspberry, is adding to the work. Beginning this summer, the eight-ounce containers go for $10 at the Portland Farmers Market.
With Monteillet’s cheeses gaining a regional—and even national—reputation, he wants more business, but not more animals. “We do not want to grow any more. We know what it takes to do it. It is hard work when you are hands-on. We took three days off in 2006.”
In January, things will change: He and Joan plan to be in France tasting Roquefort—that sharp sheep’s milk cheese made near his birthplace of Millau. Pas de problème: He’ll be back for the market when it opens in April.
Angela Allen is a Portland freelancer who writes about food, wine, music, style and other things. Until recently, she was a daily newspaper journalist for 25 years and wrote a nationally recognized food and wine column.
