Archive | June, 2012

A cheese festival, Mootown, Reblochon and a dairy farm

7 Jun

Anyone fancy a nonchalant Stroll outside the Royal Festival Hall surrounded by cheese and wine? (picture taken from

In the last weekend of April the space outside the Royal Festival Hall in Southbank, London was transformed into a sea of tents brimming with cheesy goodness and an abundance of alcohol- in my opinion two of life’s finest offerings. My friend Tash and I decided that this was too good to miss and so took the tube to Waterloo, all the while complaining that the journey was too long and wondering what delicacies would woo our taste buds upon arrival.

When we arrived the selection of goodies on offer was staggering. We did a quick whip round, realised we had no money and thus had to mission further to gather funds (Why is it so difficult to find a cash point in times of great need?). By the time we got back, we decided it was time for a drink- just a casual glass of champagne in the morning. Then it was on to getting as many free tasters as we could get our hands on, plus some hot mulled cider, plus some red wine plus any other alcoholic beverage that dared to cross our path.

What with all the alcohol and cheesy choice I was finding it difficult to get my brain to make decisions. Everything looked good and there was ooze galore. I felt like one of the fembots in Austin Powers short-circuiting at the sight of Austin’s tiny union jack underpants. It would appear that, poetically, cheese is the Austin to my fembot.


Finally, I made the decision to buy a tartiflette from an authentic French man (I do love an authentic accent). This friendly french dish consisted of potatoes, bacon, onions and Reblochon cheese. I even managed to swindle my way into extra melted Reblochon on top of my already cheesy plate. What can I say? cheese is my vice.

Some time during this meal I was told I would have to get to Kings Cross tout-suite in order to get to my friends farm on time for birthday celebrations. I panicked and ran to a stall containing welsh farm cheeses entitled Mootown. For some reason when I think of ‘Mootown’ I picture a cow super hero city where all the cows hang about in capes. With such an amazing name I figured their cheeses would follow suit.

A citizen of Mootown. (picture is a Super Lulu Card by sruble found on

My purchase from Mootown was entitled ‘Golden Cenarth’. It had a slightly offensive smell, an orange rind and was concealed in a wooden box. All the makings of a great dairy course- but from past experience I am now wary of trusting any cheese on appearances and smell alone. One cannot truly know the character of a cheese until it is upon your tongue.

Centre of the picture, but would it hold its own in the centre of a cheese board?

It was opened at the dinner table and passed round for examination. All ate and all judged. The crews’ most prominent descriptions of Golden Cenarth, which was advertised as a ‘good farmyard cheese’ by the man at Mootown, were ‘inoffensive’, ‘subtle’, and ‘it looks and tastes like butter’. All in all an average and neutral contribution. I was at an actual farmyard and this was not a good farmyard cheese- DAMN YOU MOOTOWN, damn you and your catchy super-hero name! And while I’m damning things- damn you misleading wooden box and smell and orange pallor.

But all was not lost…being at a dairy farm (a dairy farm entitled Dorrington to be more precise- alliteration at its best) meant that cows were on hand to obtain a fresh pint of milk from. Dairy was instilled in our diets once more in all of its creamy glory.

Glee for milk

So although Mootown did not prevail, a good farmyard experience was had by all and the memories of reblochon tartiflette still hover over my cheese-addled brain. In fact, I am going to attempt to cook a homemade tartiflette right now to appease my urges.

For more information on Mootown please check out:

To read more about the Cheese and Wine festival you can click here:

and I will leave you with my attempt at correctly pronouncing reblochon:

Ha, I just found out that it’s a running French joke on how to pronounce Reblochon…who would have thought it! This is an actual advert: