It’s British, it’s bright orange and it’s looks slightly obnoxious on a plate. Red Leicester will soon be your taste bud’s new BFF. Les (all good friends should have a nickname) is so rich in savoury, nutty, sweet, umami-ness that he could be Parmesan’s bawdy, British cousin (thrice removed). Don’t worry, he won’t overstay his welcome, in fact he’ll be gone much too soon.
It’ll be a testament to your willpower if you manage to save some for the toast you’re waiting to pop. I shaved thin morsels of Red Leicester onto my sourdough but chunks are nice for a snack. But not a snack you’ll want to share. People will eye Les and as you unveil him from your lunchbox, and you might be forced to ask, “Would you like some?“ But maybe you’ll add something like, “It’s quite past its due date but I didn’t want to waste bad cheese. God, I hope it isn’t rife with listeria from being wrapped and left out of the fridge with that cheap baloney! Oh well, what’s life without some risks? Please, help yourself, I insist. And take some for your baby too.“
Red Leicester in 11 words or more: Leiscester (Less-ter) hails from Leiscester county in England and has been made since the 18th century. It was original created as a use for milk left over from Stilton production. Traditionally, it was produced in a cloth-wrapped wheel which could weigh up to 45 lbs. In today’s more common factory production it is often made in blocks. Aged from 3-9 months, older is probably better in this case: firmer, flaky, concentrated flavour. The orange colour comes from annato which is the same natural dye used for orange cheddar.