Hooper, You Elegant Little Stinker

What a beautiful cheese this is.

It has been a while since I've splurged and purchased extravagant cheese online. When I'm buying cheese to sample for this blog or in general, I try to keep my spending limit under a certain amount, which isn't easy when my eye is automatically drawn to the more expensive varieties. After my last escapade, though, I felt I deserved a special treat. 

I've sampled cheese from Vermont Creamery before and haven't ever been disappointed, quite the opposite, in fact. The award-winning company produces some of the finest cheeses in the world, and that's not an exaggeration. 

Since I've already gone a little bit into the history of Vermont Creamery in past posts, I’ll just add that the cheese and other products the company produces aren’t the only extraordinary aspects of this operation. The founders and everyone involved do an incredible job of promoting sustainability while focusing on producing extraordinary products. In sharp contrast to Kraft Foods, Vermont Creamery is certified as a B Corp, which means the company meets the highest standards when it comes to social and environmental performance, public transparency, and legal accountability. It does good things.

Hooper is a cute shape

When I first saw an image of Hooper, there was no way I could resist it. It was exactly what I was looking for in a cheese to review. It checked all the boxes by 1. Being something I had never seen or heard of before. 2. having an appealing shape. It looks like a prim little doughnut. And 3. It's a wash-rind variety. Swoon! Sure, it was a little over my usual spending limit, but I had a good feeling this was going to be a grand adventure. After taking a deep breath and bravely pressing the purchase button, I waited impatiently for the package to arrive. 

And, boy, was this little stinker worth the price, the wait, and the effort it took to find. It is one of the best cheeses I have had in a very, very long time.

Hooper is named after Vermont Creamery's co-founder, Allison Hooper, who learned cheesemaking during a year abroad in France back in the 1980s. She and Bob Reese founded the company in 1984, and they have been producing wonderful dairy products ever since.

This lovely ring of cheese has a classic wash-rind, stinky aroma that’s not overpowering. It smells like a day at a well-maintained petting zoo, less pungent than some of its heavy-hitting relatives that have odors veering into unkempt barnyard territory. Hooper also looks pretty with wrinkly, snow-white, upright sides and the colors of a soft orange sunset sitting delicately on top. The wrinkly white exterior comes from the use of Geotrichum mold in the aging process. 

Hooper has a wonderfully textured exterior

As far as flavor, the cheese is perfectly balanced. It's somehow subtle but incredibly memorable, so much so that after the last bite disappeared, I found myself craving more, even days later. 

The combination of cow and goat milk with a dash of cream softens the sharpest notes and brings about an even taste that's intriguing and potent but not overwhelming. There's a beautiful tang with slightly sweet undertones. It's not overly nutty or earthy, though there are hints of both flavors. It's lighter than one would expect, smooth, velvety, and creamy with just the right amount of salt. Take one bite and let the flavors dance on your tongue. 

Under the slightly pliable rind sits a wonderful creamline that's oozy and smooth, and the inner section has a texture that's similar to fresh goat cheese, firmer and denser than the outermost layer. The overall mouthfeel is creamy, very creamy, though. 

Look at the lovely cream line 

There are layers to this cheese

It's an elevated wash-rind cheese that's sophisticated and beautiful, the Rolls-Royce of wash-rind cheeses. 

Pair this standout vegetarian product with a crusty French baguette or sourdough crackers. You can also place Hooper center stage on a cheese board along with dried apricots, fresh cherries, cornichons, Prosciutto or ham, and roasted pecans. Add slices of Hooper to green salads or tacos. It adds flavor to baked dishes, too, even though you’ll miss out on the beautiful texture in its natural state.

As far as beverages, try Hooper with Chardonnay, Rose, Sauvignon Blanc, Albarino, Gamay, Dolcetto D’Alba, or Chenin Blanc. If beer is more your style, go with a pale ale or Saison. Mostly, just enjoy this cheese. It can stand on its own just fine, but it's also versatile for a wash-rind variety and pairs well with more than you might expect. 

Serve Hooper with a crisp Rose

Velveeta Slices - Is It Cheese?

Famous for its alleged ability to melt into a smooth consistency and for its affordability, Velveeta has a long history that started back in 1918, back when it was made with real cheese and cheese byproducts.

The full story starts even earlier, though. In the late 1800s, the Monroe Cheese Company hired a young Swiss cheesemaker named Emil Frey, who eventually created the now-famous stinky but tasty Liederkrantz cheese. As a side project and in an effort to prevent further waste in the company that focused on Swiss-style cheeses, Frey experimented with broken pieces of cheese that he took home and mixed with various ingredients. After two years, he created a recipe for a “velvety smooth” product that would eventually be known as Velveeta. 

Anyone who has seen the series Chef’s Table might remember the inspiring Cacio e Pepe episode featuring Italian chef Massimo Bottura. In the series, the chef recounts the story of his experience after an earthquake struck Emilia-Romagna and damaged many wheels of Parmesan that had fallen from their aging shelves. Bottura created a recipe for risotto, Cacio e pepe, and people from around the world purchased the Parmesan wheels, saving the local economy in the process. 

Parmesan wheels on aging shelves

Velveeta is nowhere near as renowned or respected as Parmesan, but, as you can see, the history behind the rubbery orange paste is rather heartwarming. Frey was simply trying to prevent waste, and that is a good thing. His efforts to use the misshapen Swiss cheese bits that would have otherwise been tossed out resulted in a unique item that ultimately produced a profit, so much so that Velveeta eventually became a separate company. 

Enter Kraft. I feel like there should be ominous music playing when you read that line. In 1927, a year after the Monroe Cheese Company closed, Kraft, which doesn't have a stellar reputation when it comes to many issues — from mislabelling errors, to fraud, to allegations of misconduct — stepped in and made a deal. After the purchase of the Velveeta company, things seemed to go smoothly for a few years, even after the product itself was turned into a cheese spread in the late 1950s; however, in 2002, the FDA stepped in and chastized the company for incorrectly labeling Velveeta as a pasteurized processed cheese spread instead of what it really is...something else.  

To answer the question, "Is it cheese?" No, Velveeta is not an actual cheese or a real cheese product. Contrary to rumors, it's also not made of plastic, though it looks unnatural, and it wobbles and squeaks between your teeth as if it could be. It is classified as a cheese product, a term not exactly accepted or defined by the FDA, but who really pays all that much attention? 

Velveeta Slices

I ended up purchasing the singles because my local supermarket was out of the reasonable but still large-sized blocks. I wasn't about to purchase a two-pound rectangle of something I feared I wouldn't like. 

I have to say that when I took my first bite after psyching myself up, I couldn't help but think it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn't good, but it wasn't terrible, at least not at first. I can't say it's appealing, but I wasn't terribly turned off initially and had to question, "Is it good? Is it bad? Is it something in between?" 

Initially, the aroma and look reminded me of an anemic American cheese slice. When I attempted to melt it on toast, like my sister and I used to do with American cheese when we were young, the square just sat there in defiance, holding its shape, refusing to bubble, and resisting melting under the hot, hot heat of the broiler. The toast burned, but the slice appeared to be flame-resistant. I used a knife to spread it, and the texture looked odd, grainy almost. 

Velveeta on a plate

Apparently, if you mix it with other items and stir it well after melting, it becomes smooth, so I also tried some Velveeta mixed with salsa and microwaved it for a quick Salsa con queso dip. None of what I ate was very good, but, again, it wasn't terrible. Or was it? I was really struggling with this one. 

Hide Velveeta in dips and sauces

The flavor is very mild. There is a very slight tang, and it's milky. It tries to be cheddar-like but falls very short. Any notes of the Swiss cheese that used to be its foundation are lacking. It is creamy. I'll give it that. The finish is problematic. No matter how I tried it, the lingering aftertaste was simply blah. 

Unfortunately, my stomach didn't like what Velveeta did to it. After sampling four slices in total, my body said, "Enough!" and I had to stop my experiment due to tummy rumblings that lingered into the following day. 

I ended up throwing the remaining package away. I couldn't bring myself to inflict this mix of oils, preservatives, and milk products onto anyone else, so into the trash it went. Sadly, what started out so many years ago as something meant to prevent waste led to eventual waste in my home. I definitely won't be buying that again!

For those brave souls who are interested in giving Velveeta a try, my suggestion is to hide it. Cook it with chili or add it together with real cheese in a Mac and Cheese dish. Some of the recipes Kraft suggests for dips, pasta sauces, and Nachos sound tasty, but I'd be sure to compensate with enough real cheese to mask any possible negative effects of Velveeta, from odd flavors to internal disruptions. Avoid using this wannabe cheese on cheese boards at all costs. Your family and guests will thank you. I feel sorry for the kid whose parent makes cheese sandwiches out of this hideous creation. 

As far as beverages that go well with Velveeta, the more alcohol the better. Beer seems the most logical choice. Is Snake Venom Beer too much? I'm not sure. A pilsner or lager would suffice, but if your stomach can tolerate it, try serving whatever mess you create with Velveeta with the cheapest wine you can find, Sutter Home Pinot Grigio, for example. If you're really trying to elevate the trailer trash of cheeses...I mean cheese products, you could try serving your Velveeta dish with unoaked chardonnay, Riesling, Pinot Noir, or a Rosé. Then again, it would probably go just as well with a Dr. Pepper or something authentic, like a glass of milk. 

You have been warned. 

Dr Pepper