On spontaneity and running from bears.

Legend has it that the Dauphin de Viennes (later King Louis IX) was out hunting when he was saved from a bear by two woodcutters. They invited him to eat with them and it was here where they introduced him to their local cheese. He was so taken with it that it became a regular in the royal household until he died. Like all legends (and cheeses) this tale should be taken with a pinch of salt, however, the cheese of Saint Marcelin is mentioned in royal documents in 1445 so maybe....

Saint Marcelin is named after the town of the same name located in the Dauphine area of the Rhone-Alps region of France. It is a cow's milk cheese (though historically it may have contained goat's milk too) and has a very delicate rind. If kept well it has an oozing creamy texture with a flavour that develops nicely into a mature nut meets mushroom sweetness. 

It is marketed in a small terracotta dish called a "coupelle" which helps with the ooze in the unlikely event that you have any left at the end. These are also the most useful small dish to have in your kitchen.

Brewers are generally obsessed with cleanliness and hygiene, they never stop talking about the amount of cleaning and sanitising they have to do. Indeed, most of the water used in brewing is used for cooling and cleaning and never becomes "liquor" (water that becomes wort and then beer). This is what makes the Lambic brewing method that much more surprising. 

For most beers the process of boiling the wort (the sugary, malty liquid extracted from the grains) serves several purposes. It solidifies certain proteins so that they can be easily extracted, it gives the opportunity for various hops to be added in order to give bitterness, flavour and aroma, and it also sterilises the liquid. This is where it all goes a bit strange for Lambic beers.

Whereas most breweries (with the exception of in Yorkshire) will now pump the wort into a fermenting vessel of some sort and cast some yeast in order to create fermentation in a secure environment. The Lambic brewer cares not for such things. For them, the hot wort is pumped to the top of the brewery where it fills up a Koelschip (Literally Cool Ship) which is an open shallow tray rather like a metal paddling pool. This cools the wort quite fast but with a massive exposed surface area. Traditionally, the windows and shutters would be opened to allow the cool night air in. Any wild yeasts and bacteria are seemingly welcome to join this party. Over 120 different groilies (I may have just made that word up) are available to the sugary liquid. The Brewer may well throw in some aged hops to get rid of nastiest micro organisms but there is a great deal of chance here. Many of the wild yeasts have been living in the breweries' rafters for generations. The fermentation is spontaneous , no yeast is added by the brewer.

Timmermans Kriek and Black Pepper is a lambic beer with cherries and black pepper infused into it after fermentation. It follows a long Belgium tradition of mixing beer with fruit. This beer pours out as a beautiful deep pink liquid with a small but persistent baby pink head of foam. On the nose it has a strong cherry flavour (a little like 1980's cough mixture). In the mouth there is clear sweetness but also tart, sour acidity so typical of lambic beers. The pepper turns up on the finish and leaves with a spicy clean up of the palate.  

The cheese and the beer together were an interesting match. Such a distinct, clear flavour set on the beer started to bully the cheese until the creaminess and nuttiness took back control. I'm not sure if they were fighting on my palate or just having a rave. However, I would recommend them both separately and together.