We sold a lot of cheese this weekend. Which is pretty impressive considering the brutal cold and adverse weather conditions.
Because I can’t actually count, I can’t tell you how much we sold on each day, but I know that by weight we sold almost 19 cheeses over the whole week-end. Which is nice.
The late September cheeses are absolutely delicious. It is a testament to their excellence that people were still being rocked by the lovely complex flavour in the hellish Siberian cold. the paste had a beautiful fudgey appearance and the balance of acidity to creaminess was just right. One thing I noticed this week is how often people were commenting on the length and development of the flavour. One girl said it was the best cheese she had ever tasted.
The market was really quiet on Friday. Usually in the middle of the day it’s so busy that its actually hard to move around, but even then people were passing on ones and twos. I think because so much of the transport system was down Also it was the coldest day I have ever done on a market. You would think that would ruin sales as the cheese wouldn’t taste of much, people are miserable and don’t want to take their hands out of their pockets and the stall holders are so cold they can hardly move or talk. This seems not to be the case. I suppose the serious shoppers are going to come whatever the weather, also the cheese was superlative.
Saturday perhaps as a result, was really busy. It was warmer and the trains were running. People are definitely gearing up for Christmas now – we sold 3 midis and a lot of big pieces.
Continuing in our tradition of having absurdly over-qualified literary/academic types working on the stall we had a nice chap called Edgar trying out for us on Friday. He has just finished a degree at Oxford and will hopefully work with us over Christmas. He turns out to be a natural monger.
I may have implied in last week’s communiqué that it was a little bit chilly. I was talking nonsense. It was a balmy Spring day. The lambs gambolled in the flowery pastures. This Friday however, it was cold. Hardened veterans of the Siberian work camps shivered and cried for their mummies. At the end of the day, Imo poured some warm water onto the counter to wash it, turned away for a moment and in that time it froze. That is cold.
After our arduous day Imo and I decided to have a quiet night in on the sofa to recover. This is our recipe for such a night:
Fois gras with truffles, and a nice glass of Sauternes.
Rib eye steaks, chanterelle mushrooms and a bottle of Malbec.
Comte and champagne.
Who’s coming round for dinner?
I would put in a joke about cheese here but I don’t have one that is gouda enough. Ha ha ha it is funny.
Carry on. Best regards, Ned.
PS Don’t forget the Borough Market Cheese Evening on 15th December. See you there.