Culinary Matchmaking…
Is an art that anyone can practice. You don't need to own a wine cellar, either. The object of the exercise is to enjoy a meal with your friends. Period. There are two basic strategies. One is to pick cheeses that you know you like — or that you want to try — and then purchase the wine. If you buy your cheeses at a specialty shop, whether it's in town or online, the seller will probably have a few ideas about suitable wines. Even the deli clerk at the HyperMart can often help. And don't worry. If the match doesn't work out, you can always arrange for an amicable parting and then eat (or drink) your mistakes separately.
I said there were two strategies, didn't I? Well, yes, I did. And what's the other one? Easy. It's the inverse of the first approach. Simply choose a favorite wine, and then pick one or more cheeses to accompany it. Ask the wine seller what cheeses he (or she) recommends. Many local shops have wine and cheese tasting get‑togethers, and they're often worth attending. Of course, you can always organize your own. Look at these as the culinary equivalent of a scouting trip on an unfamiliar waterway. You may end up investigating a few blind channels. You may even run hard aground. But that's all part of the fun. Books, magazines, and websites can help, too, though most foodie publications tend to gravitate toward the upper end of the market. If you're a banker with a bonus that's starting to burn a hole in your portfolio, this is all well and good, but if your means are more modest, you may want to do your exploring on the cheap. The good news? Either way, you're pretty much guaranteed a great time.
Want some ideas to get you started? OK. Here are…
A Few of My Favorite Things
I usually opt for a one‑wine‑and‑many‑cheeses game plan, in which the wine plays the supporting role and the cheeses are the stars. There are fewer glasses to wash, for one thing, and that always makes sense on a real shore‑lunch outing, where washing‑up is not a big part of the fun. And while we're speaking of the real thing, I hope no one needs to be reminded that a half‑bottle of wine isn't the best preparation for a difficult afternoon on whitewater, let alone for the drive home from the take‑out. So it's best to limit backcountry wine‑and‑cheese parties to placid waters, on days when you don't have to hurry back — or wait until you make camp, thereby changing your shore lunch into a shore supper. 'Nuff said?
But we're talking off‑season shore lunches now. Luckily, the last of the paddling weather in Canoe Country coincides with the start of the winter holidays, and when the days get short and shadows lengthen, there's no better anodyne than…
Port and Stilton This classic combination is a Christmas tradition in many outposts of Empire — that same Empire on which the sun formerly never set, but which is now pretty much relegated to the costumed confines of Masterpiece Theater and BBC America. Still, notwithstanding waning imperial fortunes, it's easy to see why port and Stilton continue to grace holiday tables around the world. Stilton is a blue cheese, but it's not just any blue cheese, and it's certainly not one of the "blu" cheeses you'll find stacked high on those islands that obstruct shopping‑cart traffic at the HyperMart. Stilton is creamy and crumbly, with a subtle flavor that manages to be distinctive without becoming overpowering. It is, admittedly, an acquired taste. But then so are many other good things, from Islay malts to beans on toast. In any case, Stilton is at its best served with port wine. A warning is in order here, I suppose: Stilton isn't cheap. But it's an affordable extravagance, and I think you'll find that you can economize elsewhere without losing much in the process. While a fine vintage port is certainly a fitting companion to the so‑called king of cheeses, I'm content with inexpensive, nonvintage ruby ports — though I draw the line at any port that doesn't originate in Portugal.
Biscuits (they're called crackers outside the remaining enclaves of Empire), walnuts, and sliced apples make up the balance of the menu. Pepperidge Farm markets a tasty assortment of crackers in the States under the Quartet name, but there are numberless alternatives, including sesame breadsticks.