You know it is autumn when your cheese shop bulks up on Alpine-style cheeses.
The summerâs proliferation of fresh cheeses and backpacker-ready goudas has been shrunk to a minimum. Meanwhile, GruyĂšre mountain grows in the âSwiss cheeseâ side of the case.
It is as sure a thing as the leaves changing colors or pumpkin spice-flavored foods: Suddenly, everything we eat must be covered in melted cheese.
Weâve been through a good number of Alpine cheeses and ooey-gooey melters on this blogâEmmental Français, GruyĂšre, ComtĂ©, and Raclette. And while there are a number of others worthy of your palate and your plate, today we are focusing on the littlest mountain cheese: TĂȘte de Moine.
TĂȘte de Moine, which is made from whole, raw, cowâs milk, has AOP status and is made by only a handful of dairies in Switzerlandâin the Canton of Jura (Porrentruy, Franches-Montagnes) and in the Jura mountains in the Canton of Bern (Moutier, Courtelary). The cheese is sometimes also called âFromage de Bellelayâ after the abbey where it was created (more on that soon).
The little guy usually weighs less than two pounds, is between four and five inches tall, and is shaped like a perfect cylinder. TĂȘte de Moine is aged for at least two-and-a-half to four months.
His name, TĂȘte de Moine, literally means âhead of the monkâ or âmonkâs head.â
How do you say it? Teht-duh-mwaaaahn. Listen:
Why the weird name? So glad you asked.
First off, TĂȘte de Moine is one of Switzerlandâs oldest cheeses. It was first made at the Bellelay Abbey in the Jura mountains during the 12th Centuryâby monks. The cheese was originally intended only to be enjoyed by bishops, but that tradition eventually went by the wayside and now we can all eat TĂȘte de Moine.
But itâs not just called âmonkâs headâ because of who was making and eating the cheese. No, TĂȘte de Moine begins to resemble a monkâs tonsured (bald on top) head as you shave it.
The cheese is shaved horizontally into delicate slices or rosettes, exposing a bright yellow paste encased in a pinky-brown or orange washed rind. So, it kinda looks like a head thatâs bald just on top.
Back in the day TĂȘte de Moine would have just been shaved with a knife or a planer of some sort. But now, it is shaved with a handy little tool called a Girolle or a Girouette, which was invented for the purpose in the early 1980s.
Girolle means âto grateâ or âto shaveâ in this instance, but it is also the French word for Chanterelle mushroomsâjust an FYI for you. Similarly, Girouette is also the word for âweathervaneâ in French. If you have to discuss this tool in French, refer to it as a âGirouette pour fromageâ or a âGirolle ĂĄ fromage.â Repeat after me:
So how does it work?
Essentially, you place the cheese on a spike in the center of a round platter, and then you attach a handle to the spike that has a blade facing down. You rotate the handle around the cheese in a circle, and as it goes the blade shaves the cheese in a circular motion. Watch:
Shaving the cheese this way creates delicate, beautiful rosettes, but the most important effect is actually on the scent and flavor of the cheese. Shaving it allows more air to touch the cheese, which means this funky little guy (it is a washed-rind cheese, after all) really lights up your olfactory sensors and you can more fully smell it and taste it.
Itâs worth noting here that cheese guru Steven Jenkins claims that TĂȘte de Moine is easily the strongest of all Swiss-style cheeses (Cheese Primer, 282). Since I was able to get my famously finicky boyfriend to ignore the cheeseâs pungent odor and eat it melted on potatoes, I will say that the cheeseâs bite is not nearly so strong as its bark.
TĂȘte de Moine is certainly a stinky cheese. Its smell is sharp, funky, and strong. When you get beneath the orange/pink/light brown rind, the yellow paste tastes nutty and fruityâlike any good Alpine-style cheeseâbeefy and meatyâin true washed-rind fashionâand is both sweet and salty.
You donât have to shave the cheese, but thatâs definitely the most satisfying, attractive, and impressive way to serve it. Iâve seen it for sale by the whole wheel, already shaved, or in slices. (If itâs going to be cut into slices, it should be cut horizontally, rather than vertically, because not everyone is going to buy a chunk and eat it without shaving it.)
Rosettes of TĂȘte de Moine can be eaten plain on your cheese board, or they can be treated like Raclette: melted over potatoes, with cured meats and raw or pickled vegetables. You can also serve it meltedâor notâon crostini with salami and sliced apples or pears. The possibilities are endless.
This beautiful little stinker is in good company as cheeses go. GruyĂšre, Vacherin Mont dâOr, and TĂȘte de Moine together make up the holy trinity of cheeses from the Swiss Jura.
And if youâre looking for a comparison, TĂȘte de Moine is most similar to GruyĂšre, Appenzeller, and Abondanceâalthough those three cheeses will be milder (and larger!) than tiny TĂȘte de Moine.
There is also a French version of the monkâs head cheese, named Girollin, which Steven Jenkins calls âan unabashed knockoff of TĂȘte de Moineâ (Cheese Primer, 282). Well, then.
So, whether you shave it, melt it, eat it by the wedge, or shave it and melt it, I hope you will join me in adding TĂȘte de Moine to the roster of mandatory cold-weather cheeses.
This is one of my favorite cheeses. The rosettes are beautiful and I love sprinkling them on salads and over vegetables. I get my Tete from https://www.gourmet-food.com/swiss-cheese/tete-de-moine-cheese-100562.aspx . While this cheese is a bit more expensive than others. It is certainly worth it.