Stinking Bishop

When I first heard of ‘Stinking Bishop’ in the late ’90s, I knew it would be too challenging a cheese for my palate as it was then. With my tastes having broadened over the last few years, however, I’ve been newly curious to try some; but I hadn’t seen any hereabouts until the Friday before Christmas. At Abergavenny market I spied some at one of the stalls and bought a small wedge of it, as pictured above.

It’s by no means an ingratiating footstuff. The pinkish-orange rind is clammy to the touch, and, as for the aroma, although ‘stinking’ may be too strong a word, it undoubtedly has a forthright olfactory presence. The body of the cheese, with a texture akin to set custard, has a surprisingly mild and very delicious flavour. The rind tastes like it smells, but, on the palate – by whatever strange alchemy – this comes to seem like a good thing. It has a lingering and fascinatingly complex aftertaste. It’s not something I’d want every day, but I’d gladly have it again as an occasional treat.

The name apparently derives from a variety of pear, used to make a perry with which the rinds of the cheeses are washed as they mature. The pear in turn was named for a disreputable 19th-century farmer. The slate cheeseboard in the picture is a recent acquisition: I picked it up from a charity shop for £2.