As much as I love cheese, there aren't many types that make me throw back my head, roll my eyes and moan in delight.
Cabri ariegeois is one such cheese. I've been enamoured with it since my first taste, at Caprice at the Four Seasons, in Central. Jean-Francois Antony, of the famous affineur (cheese ager) Bernard Antony, was at the restaurant and I overheard him discussing a 'goat's milk Vacherin' with some diners. Vacherin Mont d'Or (sometimes just called Mont d'Or) is one of my favourites (but only when ripe; when it's not, it tastes waxy) so I was interested in trying the goat's milk version. I was served a small portion of the cabri ariegeois and I immediately wanted more. I ate it again the next day at a dinner a friend had organised at the same restaurant and it confirmed what I had suspected - that this was now at the top of my list of favourite cheeses.
Like Vacherin Mont d'Or, cabri ariegeois is a raw-milk, washed-rind cheese. The major difference is the milk: cabri ariegeois is made of goat's milk, rather than winter cow's milk. This means the seasons of the cheeses are opposite one another - the supply of Vacherin Mont d'Or will be ending soon, while the goat's milk version should be starting in the next few weeks. The goat's milk and cow's milk cheeses share similarities: when ripe, they're so soft they should be scooped from the tender rind with a spoon, rather than cut out in wedges with a knife. They're sold whole, in soft spruce-wood boxes that don't just look attractive, they also contain the cheese's 'ooziness', while the scent of the spruce adds flavour. But cabri ariegeois, which is made in the Ariege department of the Pyrenees, is even more sublime than the best Vacherin Mont d'Or (which on a good day is extremely delicious). It's incredibly creamy, intense and balanced.
I would never waste cabri ariegeois by using it in a dish. For me, the only way to eat it is on its own (I don't even eat bread with it) and, preferably, shared with someone you love who doesn't mind the scent.