Once bitten, but apparently not twice shy, I headed back to Deen yesterday to pick up another of the little cheeses in an earthenware pot that go by the name of "ovenkaas". They will make a lovely dinner with some raw veggies to dip into the hot cheesiness. Damn. The ravening hordes have descended on Deen's foreign cheese sale and there's no more ovenkaas. I settle instead for a calvados-spiked camembert in a little wooden box, relieved to see a new sign that states a cost of €0.99. Hurrah! Maybe somebody high up in Deen is reading my blog.
The only problem with this cheese is that it smells. In fact, it is quite overpoweringly stinky. It spends the afternoon in the fridge at work and then I reluctantly transfer it to my bag for the ride home -- with a 90-minute stop at yoga en route. As I take my yoga kit out of my bag, it becomes apparent that it is now impregnated with the scent of cheese. And it's a packed class, so I can't even hide away in a corner in an attempt to apologise for the eau de fromage I'm emitting. Oh well, never apologise, never explain -- that's the only way to live!
Baked, it tastes fantastic, developing an oozing stickiness that works perfectly with roast broccoli and carrot sticks. Try it.
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