It used to be my least favourite cheese. Every time Moka comes from Paris, she always brings along a little packet full of goods from her local cheese shop, normally one of them is a small goat’s cheese. Never been keen on it. Last Sunday, while visiting Roman Villa in Chedworth, I came across a local cheese maker, a goat’s cheese maker, to be specific. I never pass by these people without interest. The woman asked me, “Do you like goat’s cheese?” “No, I don’t”, I said. “Why won’t you try some of mine then?” she said. “Ok”, I replied. And it was actually surprisingly nice, not too strong, coated in mixed pepper. The woman said the younger the cheese is, the milder the flavour.
This evening I used what was left of it and stuffed some chicken breasts with it, alongside fresh thyme, wrapped the breasts in bacon and roasted them off on a bed of tomatoes and shallots. Served with a nice little idea from GF, roasted potatoes coated in a mixture of flour, grated parmesan and nutmeg. And a pleasant green salad.