Two years ago, Maine cheese making wasn’t even on the map.

And I mean that quite literally. Two years ago, when the New England Dairy Promotion Board came out with a "Cheeses of New England" map, no Maine cheeses were represented, despite there being 11 or more licensed cheese makers in the state at the time. To add insult to injury, the mapmakers didn’t even put the state of Maine on there — just a strangely truncated version of New England, decapitated and most certainly incomplete.

In fact, back then as well as today, cheese making is one of the few agricultural markets in Maine that has the potential to explode. Recent surveys conducted by the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association (MOFGA) attest to the industry’s growth, and, according to them, there are now 13 licensed facilities being operated in Maine. These producers processed more than 2,235,630 pounds of milk last year on both farmstead operations (where cheese is made from on-premises animals) and commercial, non-farm facilities, resulting in more than 123,890 pounds of cheese.

Wow, that’s a lot, huh?

Well, not really. Consider Vermont, which produces more than 2.6 billion pounds of milk for both drinking milk and cheese, and produces more than 100 million pounds of cheese annually. That’s why Maine only is still in the potential category.

But that potential is huge. There are still thousands of types of cheeses to be made for a new market of well informed eaters from around the country. Thanks in great part to the national recognition of restaurants like the White Barn Inn, Fore Street, Primo, and Arrows, Maine is already known as a haven for fresh, local meats and produce. And cheese is quickly becoming, if it already isn’t, the next culinary passion in America. It’s where Californian wines were 10 years ago: universally recognized, popular countrywide, and respected locally. Add these two together, and you have a solidly prepped market.

So if the interest is there, and the producers are there, than what’s the big holdup? In a state that desperately needs jobs, tax relief, not to mention a reservoir for excess milk production, it seems that even a fraction of the 400 million dollars that Vermont’s dairy industry produced in 2002 would be impetus enough for this state to promote our own cheese producers.

To get a clearer picture of what it might take to make such potential a reality, I recently asked three representative groups involved with Maine cheese to offer their opinions on the future of Maine cheeses. And I realized that the goal might not be so far away.

THE CHEESE LADY

Kris Horton, proprietor of K. Horton Specialty Foods in the Portland Public Market, is Portland’s own cheese guru. She carries an unbelievable selection of foreign and domestic cheeses, and a meeting to chat with her for "a few minutes" about Maine’s cheese industry turned into an hour-long class, complete with tastings and comparisons. (Read about Max Alexander’s Cheeseman in "Postcard from Washington," in "News & Arts.")

"Maine cheese is different from Vermont cheese," she explains while shaving off tasters of Maine’s Smiling Hill Bravura and Hahn’s End Katadhin Tomme, "Vermont produces cheddar. And Maine produces cheddar, too. But what we’re seeing are small production farmsteads making small artisan wheels. It started most strongly with goat cheeses, and now we’re getting sheep and cow’s milk cheeses, and more diverse cheese-making processes." I taste the Bravura, a brie-like bloomy rinded cheese, next to a slice of the mass-produced stuff you find wrapped in cellophane.

Comparatively, the latter has all the appeal of wallpaper paste. The Bravura blows it away.

It becomes quickly obvious that Kris’s love of local cheese goes well beyond that of an enthusiastic and knowledgeable shop owner, and far past her growing case of native products. She also sees Maine’s dairy potential, and wants to be a part of the movement to bring Maine cheese to the forefront of the New England culinary canon. When I mention that some restaurants are having trouble finding it, she cuts in: "I want to be that person. I want to be that contact." She speaks of the cheese aging facilities in France, and how the depth and complexity of aged cheese could be achieved by having such a temperature- and humidity-controlled storage building here in Maine. That way, we can start producing two- or three-year-old cheddars, and blue-veined cheeses to rival those overseas.

And Mainers, she says, are ready for it. "People here have been able to develop a finer palate. And they’ve come to expect that we have it to offer."

THE RESTAURANT OWNERS

Five Fifty-five, on Congress Street, opened about three months ago. Their menu is filled with local produce and meats, their descriptions boasting the names of the farms from whence the items came. Also on their menu is an extensive cheese list, usually with no less than 13 cheeses, complete with descriptions, histories, pedigrees, awards won, and flavor profiles to look for when tasting. Sounds like a great outlet for our wonderful local cheeses, right?

"We’d love to have a ton of local cheeses on the menu," says co-owner and manager Michelle Corry, "But Vermont cheeses are so much more accessible."

Even for local restaurants, finding local cheeses to put on he menu can be a chore. Farmer’s markets are a good venue, but aren’t open year round. There’s always the option of calling the cheese makers directly, but many producers don’t have the capability to run deliveries from their farms upstate. The owners could get it themselves, but, in reality, they barely have time to go to the bathroom, much less spend time driving all around the state. Finally, it’s hard to afford the amount of cheese offered at the farm. "If I have to buy 13 10-pound wheels of cheese, I’d have to buy more refrigeration," Chef Scott Corry explains, "whereas at a place like Provisions [a specialty foods purveyor in Vermont], they can break it down into a two-pond block which I can keep in my fridge."

Still, Scott and Michelle go out of their way to offer Maine cheeses, buying them at almost retail prices despite its prohibitive cost. York Hill Farm’s Capriano just finished a run on the list, and for a while they offered Smiling Hill Farm’s unpressed cheddar curd as an amuse bouche for VIPs. What would be easier, they agree, would be if the cheese makers got organized, banded together, and tried to push awareness of Maine cheese on larger purveyors, the state, and eventually the nation as whole.

It will happen soon, Scott predicts. "It’s just a matter of time."

THE GUILD

Last Monday, the Board of the Maine Cheese Guild sat down for their annual meeting. They’ve actually been meeting monthly since their incorporation in April, and long before that MOFGA was organizing meetings of all the local cheese makers to discuss the future of cheese in the area. But their official organization this past spring marks a very important occasion, one that might affect the future of dairy production in this state sooner than we think. When I asked Caitlin Hunter, President of the Guild and owner of Appleton Creamery, what the goal of the guild will be over the next few years, her answer is automatic:

"Heightened awareness of Maine cheese as a real economic viability. The market’s wide open."

The phrase "economic viability" has been conspicuously absent from this state’s dairy industry in recent years, but the former president of MOFGA, creator of the ME Foods Network, and Guild board member Eric Rictor suggests that the biggest barrier to value-added dairy in Maine is a question of marketing. "A small, organic dairy farm of about 70 cows produces about 4000 pounds of milk a day, and they can’t just start selling 200 pounds here, and 200 pounds there. But they can put it on a truck and send it out of state; that’s what the big suppliers can do for a farm like that. So there has to be an infrastructure that can handle 4000 lbs of milk. And that’s starting to happen in Maine, but it’s not going to happen right away."

In other words, in a time when all of Maine’s certified organic milk is being shipped out of state to companies in Vermont like Horizon and Stoneyfield (and subsequently sold right back here in Maine), there is a market that’s developing to keep Maine milk right here.

Caitlin Hunter is trying to make the Guild a part of that change, and it starts with open lines of communication between the milk producers and cheese makers. "They become aware of cheese makers’ needs, and cheese makers become aware of who they can go to. That’s become part of our mission also. To connect people."

The Maine Cheese Guild will no doubt keep their enthusiasm up, even as they wade through red tape and break new ground in terms of state inspections and laws for cheese producers. It’s still comparatively new, but with a rapidly growing membership and events planned throughout the spring, the Guild will undoubtedly put many more farms on that map. Cathe Morrill, of the State of Maine Cheese Co., puts it simply:

"It has to start from the ground up. And we’re the ground. We’re the cheese makers."

Andy King can be reached at snandis@yahoo.com

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