By Jared Kaufman, Minneapolis Monger
Until a few nights ago, I had never seen Lord of the Rings. I know, I know. I’d seen the online jokes — “One does not simply walk into Mordor” or “You! shall! not! pass!” — but never knew their context. As I watched Gollum scarf away his precious inside his cave, my first thought was “Wait… That reminds me of the Challerhocker Boy!”
Perhaps you’ve seen him, too: The unsettling, vaguely demonic-looking child peering out from the burgundy label in the center of our cheese case, grubby fingers gripping an edge of brick. I suppose it’s apt; the name Challerhocker translates roughly to “sitting in the cellar” or “cellar dweller.” And I see why the boy would feel protective over the cheese: It’s so delicious.
Challerhocker’s texture is fudgy, custardy, with just a little bite. Right from the get-go, you get deep notes of roasted hazelnuts and alliums and woodsy sweetness. It’s approachable but still a step up in complexity among its Alpine cheese family. It’s a gateway cheese. Even though I was reminded of the cheese from a mainstream hit, I’ve often heard Challerhocker described as more of a cult classic, like Rocky Horror or The Princess Bride. It might fly under the radar, but once you’re in, oh — you’re in.
And you can get funky with pairings, too. My classic drink recommendations are dry, nutty white wines like chardonnay and fino sherry, or reds like nero d’avola. But try switching things up and serving Challerhocker with ciders or toasty Belgian ales, or even cocktails like old-fashioneds or boulevardiers. Challerhocker is also one of my go-to cheeses for almost any sweet or savory jam pairing, since it’s unbelievably versatile.
So who is the Gollum-like Challerhocker Boy that protects this delightful cheese? Let us descend into the cellars of cheese history to explore.
The man responsible for Challerhocker, Walter Räss, started out by making Appenzeller, a traditional Swiss recipe that’s a little firmer and funkier and made from the milk of native Brown Swiss cows. In 2001, he was asked a favor: His brother-in-law had just imported a herd of Jersey cows to Switzerland, and could Walter work his cheesemaking magic with their milk?
This was not an easy ask. Jersey cows’ milk is higher in butterfat content than Brown Swiss cows’ milk is, and Walter was already skimming some fat off the Brown Swiss cows’ milk to make his Appenzeller. But he mixed the Jersey cows’ milk with rennet and yogurt-based cultures his wife, Annelies, had made; added additional cream; tossed the 15-pound test wheels into his cellar; and hoped for the best.
Three months later — it wasn’t right. Walter said the wheels were “hard, with little taste.” He left them to dwell in his basement for even longer. After another half-year, the cheese had softened and developed its trademark custardy, floral earthiness. It was perfect. Walter came up with 15 potential names for his creation and took the list to his town’s architect-slash-painter, which every good village should have, to help him decide.
It was this creative Swiss genius, apparently, who drew the wild-eyed child that graces every wheel of Challerhocker the world over. “It is a young man who works in the cellar or aging room,” Walter says. “He holds the stones from the wall and calls up: ‘The cheese is ready to eat.’”
Or, as Glenn Hills of Columbia Cheese, which imports Challerhocker, put it: “Imagine someone in their parents’ basement playing World of Warcraft. That can be a Challerhocker.”
To us, it’s the perfect cheese for this season — not only because it warms you up on cool fall days and pairs with pretty much anything you throw at it, but also because Challerhocker Boy makes for a deliciously spooky jack-o-lantern.
Photo and artwork by former F44 Monger, Alex Pears