How American Ex Pat Jennifer Greco Became a French Cheese Expert
Cheese Professor contributor Jennifer Greco is a French cheese expert based in Paris, whose current project is to taste every cheese in France (which may number close to 2000). She has written for Cheese Professor on subjects such as How to Enjoy Cheese Seasonally the way the French Do. She has also contributed to David Lebovitz’s blog and was a guest on his podcast, discussing topics such as cheese etiquette. She leads private cheese tasting classes and also through Paris by Mouth.
What started you on your journey to becoming a French cheese expert?
I credit my high school French teacher in Spokane Washington. She was the best. Of course, we learned grammar, but we also listened to French radio programs, saw films, and had a map of Paris to identify the monuments. She made me a Francophile. When I was 16, I went on a trip with other young people, where we visited lots of countries. In Paris, we stayed in a tiny hotel by the Arc de Triumph. We were so excited as we walked on the Champs Elysees, and of course, the people were rude to us, but in Avignon and Nice, we had the best time and I always wanted to live here. Then at 21, I was an au pair.
Fast forward, I met my husband, we got married and I wanted to go to France on our honeymoon, so we ended up going to the south, the Languedoc-Roussillon region. We found a house to rent for a couple of weeks, went to markets and restaurants and it was actually his idea, while we were standing in a wine aisle at a supermarket. He saw that the wine was like $2 a bottle and said, “We could afford to retire here. If we buy a house now, it would be a good investment.” So, we started looking. I was 30.
When did you actually make the move?
Twenty years ago, in 2003. It was a small house in a village (but not a renovation project).
It was easy for us because we knew we were moving to a different country and didn’t expect it to be like “back home”. We had nothing but welcoming French neighbors. I started a food blog in 2005, then 16 years ago, I started this project with the blog to try and taste every French cheese.
Your blog is called Chez Loulou. How did you become “Loulou”?
It was my husband’s idea. When we moved to a village of 400 people in the south of France, and I started the blog, I wanted to remain anonymous. Eventually I lifted the veil.
How did you decide to taste every French cheese?
On a whim. I was in Narbonne, in their beautiful covered market. And they had three or four cheese counters there. I was standing in front of one of them, looking at all the cheeses, and I thought, I don’t really recognize these, I don’t know what I’m looking at. Maybe there were just 10 or 12 that I could I identify. I thought since I live in the land of cheese, I should taste them all. It seemed like it would be a fun, small, manageable project. I thought there were probably 400 or so, and if I start buying three or four a week it will be very easy and manageable.
Well, I was wrong! According to different sources, some say there are 1200 cheeses, some say 1400, 1800, 2000. Most of them are made by small farmers and dairies so they are made and sold very locally.
Was there a cheese moment in your childhood?
Yes, there was. My grandparents came from Calabria Italy and ended up in Walla Walla Washington. They had orchards, a huge garden, and canned everything. Grandpa made charcuterie and wine. They would get an entire orb of provolone and put it in their amazing cellar with all the canned goods and age that cheese for a couple of years, then crack the thing open. My sister and I called it ‘stinky cheese’; it was almost like a beautiful, aged parmesan. Very aromatic and full of cheese crystals--the tyrosine. I just loved it. I was a very picky eater as a kid, but I loved that stinky cheese.
In all your cheese tasting, I read there was only one you didn’t like, and it has a strange nickname?
Yes, that is Boulette d'Avesnes, which is called The Devil’s Suppository because of its shape and color. It is a very striking little cone, bright orange, covered with paprika, on the inside it has tarragon, black pepper, and garlic. I like all those things, but it’s a funny story.
During lunch at a local restaurant in the south, with our French friends, the cheese cart came out and that was on the trolley. Of course, it was very striking, so I asked for a piece of it. I knew nothing about cheese then. And the waiter said, “No, madam.” I said, no wait, I really want to try it and he repeated “No, madam.” And our friend Jean-Pierre said, “Jennifer you don’t want that cheese.” So, I finally gave up. I wanted to be polite, I didn’t want to make a big scene. But I was curious. Then we moved to France and three years later, our same friends came for lunch, and they brought that cheese which I had forgotten all about. We tasted it and I said ‘Oh, this is terrible.’ And they said, ‘We told you!’
I’ve tried it probably four times since then, both industrial versions and farmers’ versions. I’m in a wine club with other woman and one of them brought it as part of the cheese board. But I didn’t say a word, they all tried it and said, “This is disgusting!” and I finally told them that story.
You see it in almost all the shops! People buy it. I don’t know who eats it. I asked cheese mongers. ‘Have you ever tried it?’ They all go, ‘Ugh no, not for me.” I know there are some people who like it, but I find it overly bitter and off-balance.
You wrote Top 10 Cheese Shops in Paris and Top 10 Favorite French Cheeses for David Lebovitz. How did that come about?
We met 15-16 years ago, when we were both invited to a cooking school in the south, called Camp Cassoulet. He actually asked me to write those pieces in early March 2020, then the country shut down a week later. And he said, ‘Sorry, I can’t publish these until things open up again, it feels too mean, when no one can go to cheese shops.’ They finally got published like two years later.
What are your plans for the future?
I would love to do a three-month road trip around France to meet the cheese makers and get more cheeses. Often, they make more varieties than just the one thing we get in Paris.