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“Walking into the Milkfarm cheese store and café at lunchtime, I was greeted by the pungent funk of melting aged Gruyère. Helen Harland was in town for a seminar and I was meeting her for lunch. I found her studying the sandwich case. "Gosh," she said. "I don't know what half these things are. Speck? Guanciale? Taleggio? Just pick one for me, please. Nothing too strong or spicy." I ordered her a grilled cheese made with Irish cheddar and French ham on pain au levain, and for myself, speck and young pecorino on a baguette.” — Michelle Huneven
Walking into the Milkfarm cheese store and café at lunchtime, I was greeted by the pungent funk of melting aged Gruyère. Helen Harland was in town for a seminar and I was meeting her for lunch. I found her studying the sandwich case. "Gosh," she said. "I don't know what half these things are. Speck? Guanciale? Taleggio? Just pick one for me, please. Nothing too strong or spicy."
I ordered her a grilled cheese made with Irish cheddar and French ham on pain au levain, and for myself, speck and young pecorino on a baguette.