The magician behind the cheese counter

There was a recent addition to my organic supermarket around the corner: a fresh cheese counter. A few weeks earlier, shelves had already been cleared and moved from left to right. Then nothing happened for a long time - and finally it was there: 2 meters wide, smartly glazed and full of delicious cheese specialties. Great! In addition to the usual packaged varieties, I thought in the future scheikchen- and bröckchenweise to feast on new cheese experiences.

Unfortunately, my thirst for adventure was a tiny bit slowed down. The counter sales representative turned out to be really nice, but completely unaware. She could not say anything about the cheeses, because she has been a vegan for 10 years. She would also find it strange to handle animal milk and cut cheese. What. I was flat at first and then had to think of Loriot and what a great sketch he made of it.

I then picked one of the anonymous cheeses - unfortunately a very hard hard cheese. The saleswoman did her best and was extremely scrubbed to cut this cheese by hand. It took forever and I was about to get a guilty conscience. Since the cheese was delicious, I had to buy it twice more and each time the poor vegan was working on the cheese with her lips pinched together.

Things have changed recently. A magician now lives in the organic supermarket - right behind the new cheese counter. Is there a man who can describe cheese in more flowery words? Who seems to know every manufacturer (no matter how small a homestead over the seven mountains) and the products and traditions made there? To look at the joy of the products so much, when he hands out little tasting pieces to anyone passing by? Such a mercilessly sympathetic and effective upselling operates, that you can not leave the store under 3 cheeses and this carries like trophies home happy?

The cheese man is a blast. He recently recommended the Ilsegaut by Dörmann to me - with tasting pieces and so on. And now I'm a total fan of this goat cheese. Unfortunately, it is rare and if so, then it is sold out super fast - the Dörmanns only take the milk from their own goat herd. And that's just not infinitely big.

Should you find it somewhere, the Ilsegaut, buy it now and plaster it in gauzy slices with a few pistachios and a glass of wine.