Kelley Country Creamery

After four years of due diligence and market research that included visiting hundreds of dairy plants and retail operations, Karen Kelley and her family celebrated the grand opening of their farmstead ice cream factory this past weekend. Located just a mile off Hwy 41 south of Fond du Lac, Kelley Country Creamery is an ice cream oasis in the middle of dairy country.

The Kelleys craft 61 different flavors of ice cream – everything from Bleu Cheese Pear to Maple Bacon to old-fashioned Whitewash Vanilla. Customers pull up to a rustic-looking retail store, order their ice cream (I’d recommend adding a home-made waffle cone), and eat it while sitting in one of the many rocking chairs on the front porch, or inside an air-conditioned lobby.

The Kelley’s ice cream tastes different (and I would argue better) than most ice creams you’ve ever had, because 1) it starts with farm-fresh, non-homogenized milk from the Kelley herd of 65 Holsteins, 2) is created into a mix at the local Lamer’s Dairy, and 3) is then combined with top quality local ingredients to create a premium ice cream that truly tastes homemade.

In fact, if you’ve ever made homemade ice cream, you’ll recognize the taste right away. Milky, creamy, just pure dairy – I tried eight different flavors on Saturday and never discovered a kind I didn’t like. It reminds me of the ice cream we used to make in elementary school – when our teacher would bring in her own little ice cream maker, and we’d combine all the ingredients, mix it vigorously and have home-made ice cream for an afternoon treat.

About 1,500 people turned out for the grand opening on Saturday, enjoying ice cream, free t-shirt give-aways, a kids tent with activities and various games, all with the backdrop of the Kelley’s serene herd of dairy cows grazing in the background.


The day started with a noon ceremony, in which Jim Gage of the Dairy Business Innovation Center presented Karen and Tim Kelley with a letter of congratulations from Ag Secretary Rod Nilsestuen and a plaque from Governor Jim Doyle.

Karen then introduced her entire family, all smartly outfitted with Kelley green shirts. Kids Amy, Betsy, Heidi, Molly and Clark all seem to have a hand in the business, with Betsy even quitting her full-time marketing job at Miller-Coors to come home and help mom run the family business.

The highlight of the day had to be the “Wife Carrying Contest”, in which husbands carried their wives over their shoulders through an obstacle course. The wives wisely wore bike helmets (a few dropped on their heads – ouch) – but everyone seemed to be having an exceptional time. Later on, the brain freeze ice-cream eating contest attracted several contestants and a good time was had by all.

The next time you’re in the Fond du Lac area, be sure and stop by the Kelley Country Creamery. Not only do the Kelleys make great ice cream, they sure know how to throw a good party.

100-Year Old Cheese Plant

For a guy who’s 92, Arnold Imobersteg has got a lot of living left. Still farming just over the Wisconsin border near Orangeville, Illinois, Arnold recently took a look inside a building that’s sat on his family farmstead for more than 100 years and decided it was time to share the wealth.
So on Thursday, June 24 at 4 p.m., (the public is invited) Arnold will host a groundbreaking at the National Historic Cheesemaking Center in Monroe, where his century-old wooden farmstead cheese plant that’s sat unused and undiscovered for nearly 100 years will be moved, and where it will once again be making cheese by year’s end.
Unbeknownst to just about everyone in the dairy industry (probably because he’s about 5 miles shy of being a Wisconsin dairy farmer), Arnold is donating his farm’s cheese plant to the National Historic Cheesemaking Center in Monroe. The plant has sat unused on the Imobersteg Farmstead since 1917 and contains all of the original cheesemaking equipment, including the copper kettle, press table, huge intake wheel and wooden press bars.
“This is a one-of-a-kind find,” says Mary Ann Hanna, Executive Director at the National Historic Cheesemaking Center, who was kind enough to go with me to interview Arnold at his 400-acre farm last week. “It’s just unheard of to find something like this with all of the original equipment intact. We are just thrilled.”
Hanna says the Center will now be able to demonstrate how cheese was made in the late 1800s and early 1900s, which is especially exciting, as they’ve never had the equipment or facility to do that before. She’s got several Green County cheesemakers chomping at the bit to make cheese the old fashioned way – by hand, without electricity or running water – in the factory once it’s moved.
Turns out that Arnold’s farmstead cheese factory (calling it a factory is a bit of a stretch by today’s standards – it’s actually a 20-by-20 foot wooden shed with brick chimney, but in its day was state-of-the-art) has a long and storied history, some of it unknown even to the current owner. Arnold says the facility was probably already on the farm when his parents, Anna and Alfred, bought the small dairy in 1902, after immigrating from Switzerland. His parents made cheese, and later hired a cheesemaker to make Brick, Swiss and Limburger twice a day from the milk of the family’s 40 dairy cows, all milked by hand. The cheese was then shipped to Monroe by horse and wagon and sold to a number of cheese buyers, including Badger Cheese Company.

“My parents also had neighbors bringing in their milk with horses and wagons, and would make cheese for them,” Imobersteg said. “They made a lot of cheese by hand with no electricity and no running water. I sure wish I’d had been here to see it.”
Imobersteg never witnessed cheese being made on the farm, because the year before he was born, the Imoberstegs and all of their neighbors were required to start shipping their milk to the nearby Borden Factory in Orangeville, Ill., where it was processed into condensed milk and shipped to soldiers overseas serving in World War I.
By the time the war ended, a larger, more modern cheese factory had been built just up the road, and the Imoberstegs instead sold their milk to that facility. Their farmstead cheese plant was transformed into a storage and laundry room. As a child, Arnold can remember his mother heating water in the copper kettle, washing clothes, and hanging them to dry from the wooden beams and press bars.
Over the years, Imobersteg said he’s used the wooden cheese factory as mostly a storage shed, and never really considered the historic value of the building and its contents until last fall, when folks from the National Historic Cheesemaking Center learned of the factory and asked if they could visit.
“I guess I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about,” Imobersteg said, after he watched Mary Ann Hanna become speechless after taking a glance inside the cheese plant, and seeing the copper kettle still hanging from a wooden arm that swung on and off to go over a wood fire. She later brought back experts from the industry, including area Wisconsin cheesemakers who agreed to help restore and move the facility to Monroe.
“I’m glad it’s going to be restored and I’m sure looking forward to watching cheese be made in it again,” Imobersteg said. “That’ll sure be something to see.”

Staying Alert

Starting about the time I was 14 years old – the precise moment when a teen girl’s mind starts to wander away from the farm task at hand and into town where the boys are – my father used to tell me to “stay alert.” One of his favorite sayings was: “Try to stay alert, kid. The world needs more alerts.”


I was reminded of that saying this afternoon, as today was one of those days where I didn’t “stay alert.” Driving back to my home office in Oregon on the long straight stretch of Hwy 69 between Monroe and New Glarus, I did the unthinkable as a former farm girl. I didn’t slow down when I saw a tractor in the distance.

Too busy admiring the dairy cows basking in their day spa of lush grass in the pasture to my right, and singing aloud at the top of my voice to a Ricky Martin song on the radio (yes – I know, Ricky Martin – mock me later), I noticed a few seconds too late that the tractor was actually idling on the side of the road, manure spreader in tow, with a farmer outside the cab talking on his cell phone.

An alert person probably would have deducted that the large pile of brown stuff oozing across the highway was something other than dirt or mud.

An alert person would have at least hit the brakes.

Yeah, not me.

I proceeded to careen through the biggest pile of shit you’ve ever seen going at least 60 miles per hour. I was going so fast that I’m pretty sure I sprayed the farmer on the side of the road with a large amount of shit splatter.

Oh. My. God.

Let me share a little known fact with you: it takes approximately 1.8 seconds to realize you have NOT just driven through a puddle of mud when an overwhelming stench suddenly hits your nostrils. It takes another 2 seconds to realize, in horror, that the liquid you’re smearing back and forth with your windshield wipers is actually liquid manure.

Not a good day.

Being the sensible person that I am, I tried not to panic. New Glarus was only about four miles away, I’d stop and wash my car in the car wash along the highway. This was not going to be a problem.

I get to New Glarus without further incident, pull into the car wash, roll down my window, recover from the nauseous odor that immediately wafts over me, and attempt to pay for an automatic wash. The machine takes quarters, $1 or $5 bills.

I look in my wallet. I have one $20 bill. Frick. So I get out of my shit-covered car, stumble over to the changer and think, okay, I don’t care, I’m just going to get $20 worth of quarters. Life goes on. But no, the changer only takes $1 or $5 bills. Frick.

At this point, a line-up of cars also covered in shit, but not as much as mine – because it appears they were actually alert and at least hit their brakes – has formed behind me. With no choice, I just drive through the empty car wash bay and head to the next-door Culvers to break my $20 so I can come back and wash my car. At this point, it’s also about 1 p.m. and I haven’t had lunch, so I figure I’ll just go through the drive-thru and order a burger.

Not a good idea.

I realize this after I pull up to the window and watch the Culver employee’s face recoil in horror and plug her nose with two fingers after she opens her sliding glass window to take my money. I apologize profusely. She gives me a number and tells me to park in the waiting area, next to the other customers. I pull into the parking area. One by one, all of the cars next to me roll up their windows, all the while looking at me like I’m the biggest loser on the face of the earth. Finally, the guy comes out with my burger, hands it to me through the window and says “Dude, what happened to your car?”

I smile politely, throw it in reverse, and speed the 100 yards back to the car wash. Luckily, by this time, the line-up of cars has mostly made it through the car wash (well except for the poor guy who was towing a white pop-up camper behind his pickup – he’s still trying to spray the shit off his camper in the self-service bay). I stuff my $5 in the machine, drive into the car wash bay slowly, put it in park and breathe a sigh of relief.

I am going to eat my burger and get this shit off my car.

As I’m unwrapping my Single Swiss Butter Burger with ketchup, mustard and pickles, the automatic car wash finally roars to life. At this point, I have to ask you to imagine the worst hotel shower you’ve ever been in, where the water pressure is barely strong enough to get the shampoo out of your hair. Yeah, this is that kind of car wash. Three minutes later, the “car wash” is over and I drive out.

My car is still covered in shit. Frick.

Thirty minutes later, I’m back in my home Village of Oregon, where I know the super duper mother of all automatic car washes exists. I pay another $8 (this time on a credit card – hallelujah for technology), sit through another car wash (this one even has an automatic dryer), and emerge with a clean car. No shit in sight. Thank God almighty.

So that was my day. If you take nothing else from this story of woe, it should be this: when you see a tractor and manure spreader on the side of the road and a farmer standing outside talking on a cell phone, it’s fairly likely you should at least hit your brakes. Now you know what happens if you don’t.

Stay alert, kids.

Cheese Festival Announcement

Being June Dairy Month and all, my thoughts are naturally on cheese. Well okay, my thoughts are always on cheese. But this week, I’ve been concentrating on setting up the Second Annual Wisconsin Original Cheese Festival, coming up in November.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: November is five months away. But I can’t help it. I’m super excited and have to share my news.
So as you may recall last year, 700 tickets were sold out in just three weeks to a crazed crowd of cheese enthusiasts and dairy buyers from around the country. Thanks to all of you and the support you showed for the event, I’ve decided to expand the festival to a three-day hoopla this year. So boys and girls, prepare to put these dates on your calendar now:
November 5, 6, 7 – at the Monona Terrace in downtown Madison. Whoo-hoo! Cue the cymbals.

This year, more than 1,200 tickets will be available to a wide array of events, including two different creamery and dairy farm tours, seven private cheesemaker dinners, eight tasting seminars, an evening Meet the Cheesemaker Gala with 35 cheesemakers, and a new Sunday Artisan Marketplace with 60 vendors.
Here are the details:
Friday Tours: Choose between:

A) Take a behind-the-scenes morning cheesemaking tour of Chalet Cheese Cooperative, enjoy lunch at the legendary Baumgartner’s Cheese Store & Tavern in downtown Monroe, and then embark on an afternoon tour of the award-winning Emmi-Roth Kase cheese plant. You’ll end with an amazing Fondue Tasting in Roth Kase’s culinary center. Start your diet now to prepare for this tour. Limited to 20 people. Tickets: $55.


B) Visit Sassy Cow Creamery, a farmstead dairy plant near Columbus and enjoy a personal behind-the-scenes tour of this milk bottling and cheese plant. Taste cheese curds warm and squeaky, right out of the vat. Enjoy a farmhouse lunch and outdoor tour of the Baerwolf Dairy Farm, with an afternoon pasture walk and up close and personal visit with a herd of dairy cows christened with names like Marlie & Blossom. Limited to 15 people. Tickets: $55.

Friday Dine Around: Experience a culinary sensation at one of seven participating Madison Originals restaurants. Each chef will partner with a Wisconsin cheesemaker and host a one-of-a-kind three-course dinner. You’ll join the featured cheesemaker at a private table for 12. Tickets: $75.

Saturday Morning Farmer’s Market: Join a small group of 4-5 people for a personalized walking tour of the nation’s largest producer-driven Farmer’s Market with personal introductions to more than six cheesemakers. Lunch at Fromagination included. Tickets: $35.

Saturday Afternoon Seminars: Choose from a stunning line-up of eight seminars. Enjoy wine, beer, rum, chocolate & cheese pairings. Learn the art of building the perfect cheese plate. Discover a new era of blue cheeses. Meet the women who are making some of the best farmstead cheeses today, and introduce yourself to the next generation of Wisconsin cheesemakers. You’ll be a cheese geek by the end of the day. All seminars including cheese tastings. Tickets range from $25 – $40 per seminar.
Saturday Night Meet the Cheesemaker Gala

Reception: This is the highlight of the whole weekend. You’ll shake hands and talk shop with 35 Wisconsin rock star cheesemakers and sample 150 original cheeses. This event will again be limited to 300 tickets to allow all attendees 1:1 time with cheesemakers. Tickets: $28.

Sunday Artisan Marketplace: New this year! We’ll showcase 60 of the state’s finest artisan cheesemakers, gourmet and specialty food companies, and artists in a farmer’s market setting. All attendees will receive a free insulated cooler bag to keep your cheese purchases cold on the way home. Tickets: $12.
All events will require advance tickets, to go on sale in September. Because this festival is sponsored by Wisconsin Cheese Originals, tickets will go on sale to members of Wisconsin Cheese Originals one week before the event, with remaining tickets on sale to the public afterward. Fear not: if you want advance tickets, just join. Membership to Wisconsin Cheese Originals is only $35 a year and you get loads of stuff – including exclusive invitations to events like a June 20 Wisconsin Cheesemaker Dinner or an August 7 Cheesemaking Tour at Hidden Springs Creamery. Check out other membership perks here.
A special shout-out to the folks who’ve really stepped up this year and are helping financially sponsor the festival. Kudos to: Klondike Cheese, World Import Distributors, BelGioioso Cheese, Emmi-Roth Kase USA, Fromagination, Dairy Business Innovation Center, Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board, Hook’s Cheese, Planning Options, Uplands Cheese and Widmer’s Cheese Cellars. You guys rock.
I am SO looking forward to gleefully entering my annual cheese coma with all of you this November. Feel free to contact me with questions.

Kammerude Gouda


Blaser’s Cheese is producing a new line of flavored Gouda cheeses, each displaying a different painting by Wisconsin’s famed folk artist Lavern Kammerude.


I discovered the cheeses last week, after meeting with Stuart Hilderman, the company’s regional sales manager. We met to catch up on what Blaser’s is doing these days. Blaser’s cheese factory is located in northern Wisconsin, west of Rice Lake in Barron County. It was originally the Comstock Cooperative Creamery and now produces muenster, brick, havarti and about 35 different flavors of natural cheeses.

The newest addition to its lineup are Kammerude Gouda cheeses, made from whole cow’s milk. Sold in 8-ounce round mini wheels, sliced from Longhorns and individually packaged, the cheese is a good quality Gouda. It may not fall into the artisan cheese category, but it’s pretty competitively priced and is a good everyday cheese.

The thing I really enjoy though, is the packaging. Each flavor – and there are eight – sports a different painting by Wisconsin folk artist and farmer Lavern Kammerude. The label provides a comprehensive history and description of each painting and is available to read by peeling back the front label. The Fennel Gouda, for example, depicts Kammerude’s “County Fair” painting.

A little history: Lavern Kammerude, the oldest of Pete and Mary Kammerude’s three children, was born in 1915 on the family farm south of Blanchardville, about 30 miles from where I grew up in Lafayette County. His father was of Norwegian and Irish descent, while his mother was of Austrian descent. As a boy working alongside his father, Lavern grew up loving the land and his rural lifestyle.

From the time Lavern was 10 years old, he, like many other farm boys, was milking, plowing, planting, harvesting and taking on the other responsibilities of the everyday chores on the farm. His schooling never went beyond the eighth grade. By his early teens, Lavern was doing a man’s work on the home farm and working with neighbors for seasonal tasks like threshing, silo filling and wood cutting.

Lavern met his wife at a dance in Argyle, got married, and continued farming part-time and doing other jobs. In his mid 50s, Lavern began painting scenes of everyday life in America’s rural Midwest during the first half of the 20th century. For 20 years, he painted oil-on-masonite, and his paintings today provide a valuable historical record of the bygone era.

His paintings gained local popularity with farmers and small businesses and later could be seen in corporate offices of large agriculture-related companies. A Kammerude painting even graced the walls of the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture’s office. In 1986, Lavern was awarded the Wisconsin “Governor’s Heritage Award” for his renderings of old-time rural life. He passed away in 1989.

I think it’s wonderful that Blaser’s has chosen to highlight the work of this local Wisconsin artist by featuring it on a high quality artisan cheese. To see more of Lavern’s artwork, visit this website.

Prodigal Son Returns Home

Jon Metzig grew up – literally – on top of his family’s Union Star cheese factory near Fremont, Wis. He started helping out in the family business at age 7, earned his cheesemaker’s license at age 18, and after graduating from UW-River Falls with a degree in Ag Business and Food Science, did what a lot of young people do: he left home.

After a stint as a cheesemaker at Crave Brothers Farmstead Cheese, and after a two-month trip to work with cheesemakers in Ireland, England and Switzerland, Jon Metzig has at last returned home. Today, he’s once again working with his father – Master Cheesemaker Dave Metzig – but this time, he’s making a cheese he’ll call his own.

St. Jeanne is named after his grandmother – this family has great taste with naming cheeses, don’t you think? 🙂 – and is a semi-soft, washed rind beauty, similar to a Port Salut or Irish Gubbeen cheese – that’s actually Gubbeen pictured above – I was so excited about tasting the cheese when I saw Jon in April that I forgot to take a picture, but it looks very similar). Jon ages it for six weeks and is selling it now as a fairly young, mild stinky cheese. However, he’s thinking about starting to wash and cure some batches with beer, resulting in a heartier, stinkier cheese. He’s trying to figure out if there’s a market for such a cheese (I vote yes).

Jon comes from a long line of cheesemakers, and his family history is a bit colorful. As his father says on the family’s website, it all began with the age-old question of “low fat.”

In the early 1900s, almost all Wisconsin dairy farmers sold their milk to local cheese factories. The introduction of the “Babcock Test” – a method for determining the butterfat content of milk – led to scaled pricing of milk based on fat content. Simply put, cheese factories were only willing to pay top dollar for milk with a high fat content. Thirteen farmers including Jon’s Great-Great Grand Uncle, Henry Metzig, were upset that their milk was considered “low fat,” and responded by starting their own cheese factory as a co-op in Zittau, Wisconsin.

In 1911, Henry bought out the others and formed Union Star. To close that deal, however, Henry had to make a major commitment – agree to work on Sunday. Since the co-op had always been closed on Sunday, the local farmers’ wives had been left to deal with that day’s milk production themselves. This was no small task, because Sundays were focused on preparing the family dinner and going to church. In the end, Henry agreed that it was better for one cheesemaker to go to Hell than all the farmers’ wives.

I guess you can say that the Metzig family’s continued success is due, in part, to the cheesemaking’s own version of women’s liberation. Henry’s daughter, Edna, was one of the first women to become a licensed cheesemaker and work in a factory setting. It was no surprise that soon after marrying local cheesemaker Eugene Lehman, they were running the Union Star factory. What did surprise the neighbors, however, was when they opened a small retail storefront. You see, cheesemakers back then were not known for dealing well with customers.

Jon’s parents, Dave and Jan, bought Union Star from Great-Great Aunt Edna in 1980. Dave had a degree in accounting and, just like his Great Grand Uncle, wanted to run his own business. The family tradition of independent cheesemaking carried the day and the Metzig’s have been there ever since.

It’s good to know the next generation of Metzig cheesemakers is coming up strong. Good luck with your new cheese, Jon, and just remember: the stinkier, the better.

Carr Valley Cooking School


Chefs and cheesemakers have a lot in common, says Dream Dance Chef Jason Gorman. They both work magic with food.

And no one works more magic than the combo of Chef Jason and Master Cheesemaker Sid Cook, the wizard behind the curtain at Carr Valley Cheese. As part of the Carr Valley Cooking School in Sauk City last week, Sid hosted Chef Jason for “A New Perspective on Steak and Cheese.” We had the opportunity to taste three different gourmet steak and cheese combos.

Chef Jason runs Dream Dance restaurant, located inside the Potawatami Casino near Milwaukee. His motto: “Go ahead, use the wrong fork. It’s your call.” Completely devoid of frou-frouism, Chef Jason started the evening by telling the 30 attendees that there are three things that make a good chef. The first: good ingredients – which was the reason he was at Carr Valley that night. As Jason – a native of Chicago – became more acquainted with Wisconsin cheeses during the course of his career, he says the varieties at Carr Valley immediately began to stand out because of their quality and originality.

“People ask me – ‘What’s your favorite cheese?’ and I say, ‘The one that Sid’s making right now,'” Jason laughed. In fact, last year, Jason worked with Sid to make a signature cheese specifically for Dream Dance. The result is Sweet Vanilla Cardona, which you can also now purchase at the Carr Valley retail stores – go here for a listing.
At this point, Chef Jason began searing the first steaks of the evening, so we never learned what the two remaining keys to being a good chef were. But no matter. Jason then started talking about salts, which turned out to be fascinating. He says the key to have food taste good is either salt or acid. The key to using salt correctly is to not actually taste salt in the dish when you’re done – but to treat it as an equalizer.

Each of the three steaks we enjoyed were each seasoned with a different salt. The first steak, a grass fed beef tenderloin from Australia, was served with Maldon Sea Salt, from Essex, England, and Carr Valley Apple Smoked Cheddar. The dish was garnished with was a Saba balsamic syrup, resulting in a sweet finish. The theme of this dish was “sweet and smoky,” with the smokiness coming from the cheese.
Carr Valley Apple Smoked Cheddar is made in 12 pound wheels and is bandage wrapped. At 60 days, the bandage comes off and it’s cold smoked for 12-15 hours. Sid generates the smoke from apple wood and can smoke between 500-600 wheels at a time. Then the wheels are hand rolled in paprika. It takes between 10-12 days for the smokiness to work itself to the center of the wheel, Sid says.
As good as the grass-fed steak was, the next dish was even better. A choice New York strip steak, it was served with Carr Valley Goat Feta, tomatoes, black olives, lemon olive oil and red clay salt, harvested from volcanic clay in Hawaii. The lemon really came through strongly, but the Goat Feta provided a nice balance.
Carr Valley Goat Feta boasts a strong, flavorful taste with a chalky body and crumbly texture. Most Feta for sale in the United States is actually made with cow’s milk, and some cheesemakers add goat lipase, a cheesemaking additive, to give it a more traditional Feta taste. But Sid’s is made with the real deal. It’s also dry salted instead of brined, resulting in a slightly sweeter taste. Sid also makes a sheep feta, and occasionally, a goat/sheep feta mix.
The last dish of the evening was a Japanese Kobe Ribeye with Carr Valley Black Truffle Sheep Milk’s Cheese, deep-fried Spanish Marcona almonds and finished with truffle oil. The steak was flown in from Japan and sells for $120 apiece at Dream Dance. Kobe beef comes from the black Tajima-ushi breed of Wagyu cattle, raised according to strict tradition in Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan. According to popular belief, the cattle are fed one beer per day, massaged with sake daily, brushed to set their fur, and fed on grain fodder.
As Chef Jason says, “Up to the time I get them, these cows have had a better life than me.”

As if the steak wasn’t amazing enough, the kicker was the seasoning. Finished with Himalayan Sea Salt, a block of sea salt over 250,000 years old, this fabulous dish

was perfectly balanced with Sid’s Black Sheep Truffle cheese. Inspired by the truffled cheese of Italy, Sid created this award-winning sheep milk cheese, which is washed in truffle oil and aged more than six months. It sports a sweet unique earthy flavor and took first place at the 2006 American Cheese Society Competition.

All in all, an amazing evening and an amazing meal. Thanks to Chef Jason and Sid Cook for making a little magic.

New Uplands Cheese

Brace yourselves, cheese geeks. Pleasant Ridge Reserve – possibly the most famous only child farmstead cheese in America – is about to gain a baby brother.

The brainchild behind this new masterpiece is cheesemaker Andy Hatch at Uplands Cheese. Similar to Vacherin Mont d’Or, a soft, rich cow’s milk cheese made in the Jura region of Switzerland and France, Andy’s new cheese will be sold in little round boxes and will be designed to be consumed out of the box, perhaps warmed, and served with a spoon.

Vacherin Mont d’Or is traditionally made from cow’s milk in the fall and winter months, and Andy’s cheese will follow suit, thereby fitting well into Uplands’ schedule, as Pleasant Ridge Reserve is made only in the spring, summer and fall, when cows are eating fresh grass. It will do just fine on winter milk, Andy says, as the style depends not so much on grassy milk notes, but more on the cheesemaker’s ability to put a particular touch on this fragile cheese.

So far, Andy has made several batches of this new raw milk cheese, and is working to age it to the magical date of 60 days – the time needed to sell a raw milk cheese in the United States. A high-fat cheese, it is rich and creamy and held together by a band of spruce tree bark.

Only about 3/4 of a pound in weight, these little wheels will be worth their weight in gold. I tried a version that was three weeks old. It was evident that this cheese is going to be very good, but it will be a challenge to get it to 60 days and still be in good shape to ship and sell. Then again, if anyone can do it, it’s Andy Hatch.

The only problem remaining is its name. Pleasant Ridge Reserve was named after the ridge in which the farm sits – Pleasant Ridge. So it would be logical to name the new cheese after another nearby landmark. Andy says the headwaters to Rush Creek lay on the Uplands farm property, but he thinks Rush Creek sounds like a $4 bottle of wine.

I suggested changing it to Rushing Creek or Rushing Waters and was met with a blank stare and: “Um, right, but it’s called Rush Creek.” So obviously, the name of the cheese will need to be authentic and resonate with Andy, Mike & Carol Gingrich, and the region in which they live. If you’ve got any good ideas, I’m sure they’d be all ears.

Making Cheese with Andy Hatch

If what Uplands cheesemaker Andy Hatch says is true — that half of the secret to making Pleasant Ridge Reserve is simply getting out of the way of the milk and letting its unique properties and flavor profile shine through — then I’d say the other half to the secret of this near-perfect cheese is Andy Hatch himself.

Pleasant Ridge Reserve – arguably the most famous farmstead cheese to come out of America in the 2000s (it captured twin Best of Show awards at the American Cheese Society in 2001 & 2005, and was named the U.S. Championship Cheese in 2003), is a true Wisconsin Original.

Created by Mike Gingrich and the team at the Center for Dairy Research, Pleasant Ridge Reserve is a seasonal Beaufort-style cheese, made only from the milk of cows when they are grazing on fresh grass. Today, Pleasant Ridge Reserve is crafted primarily by cheesemaker Andy Hatch, who joined the Uplands team in 2007, and who with Mike Gingrich (who has by all means, earned the right to slow down a bit), continues to craft the one and only Wisconsin artisan cheese that can be found at nearly every specialty cheese shop and on five-star menus across the country.

While I’ve been a fan of Pleasant Ridge Reserve since I came onto the cheese scene in 2003, I’ve never had the opportunity to actually help craft it until today. My friend Maggie Fitzsimmons
and I talked Andy into letting us crash his 19th day of the season’s cheese make. We arrived just in time to watch him put in the rennet, and then waited for the milk to heat until it was ready to cut.

Then we learned about the process for healing/heating/stirring for creating the perfect curd that makes Pleasant Ridge Reserve. While we were waiting on this process, Andy gave us a tour of the four aging caves, and we got to meet Eric, Maria and Bob – the folks at Uplands who age PRR to perfection. We tasted several ages of this perfect cheese – everything from a sweet 7-month old wheel made last fall, to a nutty, complex 12-month wheel made a year ago, to a 2-year aged wheel that boasted a meaty, earthy flavor.

You can find different ages of PRR at different shops around the country – every cheesemonger prefers a different age. But it’s not just all about age – every batch matures at its own pace, and some batches peak before others. One wheel from each batch is plugged six to eight times to determine the perfect time to ship.

Just as we were starting to learn about a new cheese Andy is working on (more about that later in the week), it was time to head back to the make room. After a bit more heating/stirring, we pumped the curds & whey to the press table, which is actually an old cheddaring table for Kraft, cut in half and customized to fit Uplands’ needs.

Maggie and I were in charge of keeping the curd away from the whey drainage slots, until enough whey was drained to ready the curd mass for pressing. Pleasant Ridge Reserve is pressed under its own whey, one of the steps that makes this Alpine cheese special.

After a period of pressing, it was time to lift the lid and cut the mass – a process Andy and Maria have down to a science. The vat was cut into 72 squares – one square for each cheese form. Andy showed us the proper method for placing the curd squares into each form, using a metaphor that I really can’t repeat here (it was quite effective however), and then we wrapped the cheese cloth around each block, put on the lids, and placed the forms on the press.

Afterward, Andy said it was time to clean and graciously let Maggie & I off the hook, so we could go outside and take a much-needed breather. As if we hadn’t already taken up enough of Andy’s time, he then offered us a tour of the farm.

Mike & Carol Gingrich own the operation as a partnership with Dan & Jean Patenaude. They farm 300 acres, all of which are split into rotational grazing paddocks for their 150 dairy cows. The herd is a unique blend of nine different breeds, resulting in a regular rainbow of bovines. Quiet, friendly and healthy, the Uplands cows are happy cows, producing milk that results in happy cheese. Pleasant Ridge Reserve is definitely a happy cheese, and it’s about to get a sibling – but more on that later this week.

Seymour Dairy

New stats released this week by the USDA reveal specialty cheese production is up 9 percent in Wisconsin, with 92 of the 126 cheese plants in the state now making at least one type of specialty cheese.


One company contributing to this significant growth is Seymour Dairy, a new blue cheese plant and the brainchild of Mike Brennenstuhl, champion cheesemaker. Only five years old, Seymour Dairy has already won several awards, including a Gold Medal at the 2009 World Cheese Awards in Gran Canaria for its Crocker Hills Organic Blue.

The Crocker Hills Blue – made from pasture-grazed milk – is just one in an impressive line-up of signature blue cheeses Mike developed in cooperation with the University of Wisconsin Center for Dairy Research. My favorite is his Ader Kase Reserve, a blue cheese crafted in the tradition of German blues, then taken to a new height through a meticulous and intensive aging process.

Although the company itself may be relatively young (it’s housed in the old Beatrice ConAgra plant just on the outskirts of Seymour, Wis.), its three cheesemakers – Mike Brennenstuhl, Ron Laabs and Rob Richter – have more than 100 years of combined experience in making cheese.

During a tour last week for members of the Wisconsin Specialty Cheese Institute, Quality Systems Manager Ron Roethlisberger – an aspiring cheesemaker himself – shared that last year, Seymour Dairy crafted 4.5 million pounds of blue cheese and is on track to produce 6 million pounds this year. All milk comes from small family farms within 40 miles of Seymour, and the plant makes cheese 7 days a week.

Making blue cheese is an intensive process. Ron walked us through the process, from the four, open-air stainless steel cheese vats, where cheesemakers cut the curd by hand, to the brine tanks where the cheeses soak up their luscious salty flavor, to the piercing machine, which can poke holes in 20 wheels a minute, to the flipping tables, where workers flip 7-pound wheels of blue cheese like they’ve been doing it their whole lives. The plant employs 42 people, which is pretty significant in this town of 3,474 people. It’s also growing rapidly – Ron said they had added six employees just in the past 30 days, due to increased customer demand for their award-winning cheeses.

In addition to all of Seymour Dairy’s cheese made on site, all but the crumbles packaging is also done at the Seymour plant, including the cut, wrapping and packaging of the company’s signature triangle-packed 4-ounce wedges. Seymour Dairy blue cheeses sport snappy labels, each color-coded for the style in which it’s made, including:

Green Crest: this Italian style Gorgonzola features a green mold culture imported directly from Italy, giving it an authentic taste. It has a creamy texture and crisp flavor profile.

Blue Crest: this modern interpretation of a classic Danish Blue features a creamy mouth feel and complex flavor profile. This cheese is most often found in crumbles.

Ader Kase: this award-winning blue is crafted in the tradition of fine German cheesemakers. It sports a red label. The Ader Kase Reserve (my favorite) has a black label and is aged at least 6 months. It’s the kind of cheese you take the time to seek out, but then again, with Seymour cheeses, it’s hard to go wrong.

In good news, it sounds like Seymour’s line-up of blue cheeses is set to soon expand, as Mike is working on a new blue cheese unlike anything his plant is making now. He hopes to have it on the market by Christmas. Can’t wait!