The World Cheese Awards is the most important international cheese competition, and there were 4,502 cheeses entered this year.
There were only seven Super Gold awards given out to U.S. cheesemakers, and two of those went to Parish Hill Creamery. The small, artisanal cheese company in Windham County has created something that no other cheesemaker in the United States is doing.
On a recent morning, there were nine students crammed into a tiny building at the creamery’s cheese house in Westminster West. They came from as far away as Alaska and Montana to listen to Pete Dixon talk about natural cheesemaking.
One student slowly turned a long wooden paddle that was submerged in the milk as Dixon explained what was happening down in the kettle.
“Yeah, it was the rennet that was working, in a minute it curdled the milk,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Whereas with this cheese, with the same amount of rennet it took fifteen minutes.”
Dixon runs classes a few times a year at the creamery, and as he plunged his arm into a vat of warming milk, grabbing a handful of curds, he showed the students that they were getting closer to turning the milk into cheese.
“And once I get it all squeezed out, I take it and I see how much of it pops up,” he says as the students “ooh” and “ah” over what they’re seeing.
Natural cheese is any cheese that’s made with raw milk, from cows that graze on open pastures, and which uses natural culture.
And, according to the American Cheese Society, Parish Hill is the only cheese company in the United States that produces cheese exclusively using natural methods.
There are other companies that have natural cheese, but they also use laboratory culture or pasteurized milk in some of their products.
You can travel to small farms around the country and find natural cheese, but no one else in the U.S. is making — and distributing — cheese the way Dixon and his small staff are.
“We’ve got these kinds of pastures. We’ve got cows. We’ve got the cows grazing, eating on the pasture. That’s the milk. I’ve got that. How do I transform that into cheese that represents the most localized flavor?”Pete Dixon, co-owner Parish Hill Creamery
So the wild bacteria, which only live in the culture, and the raw milk, which changes as the grass grows through the seasons, produce flavors that are unique to this corner of southeastern Vermont.
“What we’ve gotten to now at Parish Hill Creamery is essentially wanting to make cheese that really exemplifies the taste of this place, of like Westminster, Vermont, you know? Windham County, Vermont,” Dixon says. “We’ve got these kinds of pastures. We’ve got cows. We’ve got the cows grazing, eating on the pasture. That’s the milk. I’ve got that. How do I transform that into cheese that represents the most localized flavor?”
Dixon is 66, and he’s been making cheese in Vermont for more than 40 years.
Before he got into cheesemaking, Dixon played electric guitar in bands around Portland, Maine.
And with his long, gray beard and wild hair, he can look like an aging rock star, or a mad scientist, or a Vermont farmer, depending on what he's talking about.
He's fascinated by the chemistry that can turn milk into cheese, and he's driven by the artistry of developing original cheeses based on traditional European recipes.
He can talk about culinary trends, market conditions and price points, though he admits the artist usually wins out over the businessman.
“This business is driven much more by passion and wanting to make the authentic cheese that represents this place,” Dixon says. “And also I would say that I've become a much poorer capitalist. I don't know if I ever was really a good capitalist, but I don't really feel like for me and my life there's a lot of value in trying to make a lot of money.”
His first business, which he started with his father and brother in the 1980s, went bankrupt.
They borrowed too much money, overestimated the market, and the cheese wasn’t very good, Dixon said.
Since then, he’s earned an agricultural degree from UVM, worked with some of the best-known cheesemakers in the state, and traveled around the world as a consultant for the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
It was during one of his trips to Macedonia, where he worked with local cheesemakers who used only raw milk and natural culture, that Dixon decided to bring these traditional cheesemaking methods to the United States.
The cheese was good, he said, but he also saw a deep connection the farmers there had to their homes.
“It was like, I had never tasted cheese that had so much flavor, that was like, just so, 'their cheese', you know,” Dixon says. “The people that lived in the city where our office was, the young people, were still connected to their family farms in the villages. And everybody was connected, so that the food from the village farms flowed back into the city. And so that got me to where I have to do something like that on my own.”
Because Dixon uses milk from cows that graze on pasture grass, he can only make cheese from May through October.
The milk is delivered every day from a nearby farm, still warm — It’s never refrigerated. And his culture is naturally developed in glass mason jars that, when filled, look like thick yogurt.
Dixon and his wife run the business with a few other staff members. The cheese is aged and sent out to the finest cheese shops and restaurants, primarily in Los Angeles and New York City.
It sells for north of $40 a pound.
“I just really believe in our cheese. I believe our cheese is world class. It’s on par with the best cheeses in the world.”Pete Dixon
And, according to judges at this year's World Cheese Awards, Parish Hill is making some of the best cheese in the country.
“I just really believe in our cheese,” Dixon said. “I believe our cheese is world class. It’s on par with the best cheeses in the world. And I just believe that it’s not just my own feeling about how good they are, it’s also just the response we get, from so many people. And now in the world, in England, in Italy, and whatnot, so yeah.”
Even after 40 years, Dixon is still trying new things.
His latest experiment, a soft, brie-like cheese based on Italian robiola, does not travel easily, and he’s so far mostly had to only sell it at farmers markets, where he can slice off pieces and wrap them in paper. Plastic wrap would cause it to spoil.
But he says he likes being a cheese monger, and telling the stories behind the cheese to anyone who wants to listen.
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