Issue link: https://viewer.e-digitaledition.com/i/1484371
12 culturecheesemag.com B E S T C H E E S E S 202 2 T he rich sound of a Welsh choir fills the corridor as my fellow judges and I file into the exhibition hall at the International Convention Center Wales for the 34th annual World Cheese Awards (WCA). Wearing our official aprons, which match the color of the huge red dragon sculpture outside the building (the red dragon is the symbol of Wales), all 250 of us gather for a group portrait before dispersing to find our assigned tables and meet our teammates. This is my second time as a WCA judge, and although I know what to expect, the enormity of the whole enterprise still leaves me awestruck. Arranged on the tables are 4,434 cheeses from nearly every corner of the globe, and the people in the room are a veritable who's who of the international cheese world—some of whom I feel lucky to now consider friends. At table four, I meet Thibault Dupas, head cheesemonger at La Fromagerie du Louvre in Paris, which opened in June. Having made cheese in Australia and worked at the Fine Cheese Company, in Bath, UK, he speaks perfect English, and I'm grateful I don't have to roll out my rusty French. He also knows a great deal about cheese, which he conveys in a friendly, collaborative way as we set about our task. The judges have been briefed by John Farrand of the Guild of Fine Food (GFF)—the UK-based organization that hosts the WCA—to score each cheese on its own merits, and to be mindful that some cheeses will have traveled thousands of miles and may be in less-than-optimal condition. We have also been advised that if a cheese seems "off," not to score it at all. Thibault and I have 43 cheeses to taste and score (each table has 40 to 45), and while some tables have three judges, it's just the two of us. I've been assigned the role of coordinator, which means I'm responsible for entering the scores into an iPad. He suggests unwrapping all the cheeses before we begin—a smart move since many of them are encased in plastic and need to breathe for their flavors to emerge. He deftly opens the larger wheels with a two-handled cheese rocker knife, since the best- tasting part of these will be near the center. Some of what's on the table is easily recognizable as goudas, manchegos, and bries, but each cheese is numbered; we don't know the makers or the countries of origin. The scoring system is straightforward, and we are expected to come to a unanimous decision. Out of a possible 35 points there are five each for appearance, body and texture, and aroma, and 20 for taste and mouthfeel. Less than 23 points results in no award; 23–26 wins a Bronze, 27–30 a Silver, and 31–35 a Gold. The first cheese is a fresh chèvre log. We suspect it's European because the flavor is more goaty than most American chèvres, and since it's a fine example of the style, its score adds up to a Silver. We each take a spoonful of the second one, a lactic-set cheese in small cups, and immediately spit it out—it has spoiled. We taste on through the rest of the cheeses, leaving the blues for last, and cleansing our palates between bites with apple slices and plenty of water. Two more cheeses are deemed unfit to eat and are not scored. We chat with judges at neighboring tables about how sad Judges taste a wide variety of cheeses, and each must be scored on its own merit From left: judges Cathy Strange, VP of Specialty Whole Foods, Xevi Miró of Llet Crua cheese shop in Barcelona, Spain,, and Christopher Sira, GM Savencia FD UK

