Good Taste: 'The power of its divine stink'
A true raw-milk Reblochon taught me one of my first lessons about the power of great cheese. As in the power of its divine stink. My friend Spike, whose father-in-law was a renowned cheese affineur in Annecy near the French-Swiss border, once took a Reblo

A true raw-milk Reblochon taught me one of my first lessons about the power of great cheese.
As in the power of its divine stink.
My friend Spike, whose father-in-law was a renowned cheese affineur in Annecy near the French-Swiss border, once took a Reblochon so perfectly ripe on our trip to the Alps, the entire train car was afluster with its heady aroma - even though it was still inside his luggage.
And it wasn't spoiled one bit. We gratinéed that washed-rind beauty over roasted potatoes for the ultimate après-ski snack.
It had the ooze of brie, but the mushroomy, beefy funk of a Savoie mountain swagger.
I was hooked for life. But, as it happens, I've never been able to find another Reblochon like that, especially in the U.S., where raw-milk cheeses under 60 days old are illegal and most Reblochons over two months have turned to ammonia bombs.
Enter Le Délice du Jura, a pasteurized-milk Reblochon sibling crafted for the American market. Some have been a bit too timid for me. But the versions currently at Downtown Cheese from La Famille Badoz are notable exceptions, just on the border of a full-on ooze, and with just enough of a pungent twang that I can taste genuine echoes of that alpine savor I covet.
Pair with an earthy Côtes du Jura red, a crusty baguette, and devour.
- Craig LaBan
Le Délice du Jura, $25.99 lb., Downtown Cheese, Reading Terminal, 215-351-7412.