Cheese, gods, men, somethings have been around for a long time and some practices too.
I think it was a beloved in-law who
introduced me to the ancient practice of mansplaining. At the time of my visit to my sister (I was
going to make it anonymous but oh well), she kept the
house, did the laundry, the cooking and the shopping, managed the children (including a new born babe), had birds and dogs, grew things, did things and occasionally read a book. Her husband one day announced that this time he would clean the house. Amused and grateful, we
left for the day taking children and dogs with us. He bought 60 dollars worth of cleaning equipment and when we returned the house was indeed shining. This, he seemed to say, is how cleaning is really done.
Magnificent we thought, but trying doing it everyday, doing everything else too and then see what standards you keep.
Medieval monks deserve and receive a great
deal of credit for keeping Christianity alive, for being institutions of learning,
for carrying out charitable works, for creating networks in Europe when everyone else
was in the dark ages and for preserving and disseminating the art of making
cheese.
It was in their interest to. The Cistercian order had an ethic of prayer and work and sought to be self-sufficient monastic bodies; in the medieval times this often manifested itself through farming and brewing. They were not alone, Benedictines being another example. The monasteries improved upon local practices being able to harness greater resources. They and their laymen cleared pastures and reclaimed poor land furthering the ground available for grazing and farming. With more land and donations, large herds were also kept by monasteries and this gave them a lot of milk to experiment and work with. Not being able to eat meat during the fasting days of the year, gave them a good reason to devote careful attention to cheese making. Cheese was a precious
source of protein and flavour; dairy was loved.
The monks of St. Gall, as with other
monasteries, received tithes from the locals peasants in the form of cheeses, blank canvases for their skills.
Monks’ days were structured by the horarium, uninterrupted time could be allotted to the taking care of and making of cheese. They were also a community, able to
share and cultivate cheese making skills and knowledge. Many
famous cheeses claim their origin in the cellars of monasteries: Port Salut,
Munster, Fromage de Bellelay (Tete de Moine), Maroilles, St. Nectaire, Abbaye de Bellocq, Abbaye de Tamie, even
Wensleydale (maybe this is why my Catholic Irish mother has a fondness for it).
Their contributions continue on. Even Marie Harel, granddame of Camembert
Normandie, working in the late 1700’s, is said to have learned the recipe from a refractory priest, Abbot Charles-Jean Beauvost from Brie, who sheltered for a time in the house where she worked. However it is mostly legend, if it did happen it is more likely that she was already making the cheese and
selling it in the market and that he just gave her some good tips on how to
improve her cheese while he waited for his freedom.
Women were often the cheese makers in the family. Their
work was at home and the cheese making fell on to that list of duties. They did
this along with milking the cows, raising the children, washing the clothing,
cooking, cleaning, preserving food, growing food and chasing the goat out of
the garden.
As with Marie Harel, peasant women of the medieval days were making cheese at home while the monks went about making theirs in their communes. The monks, thanks to their strict horarium, their access to milk, tithed cheese and labour, were able to devote attention to the making of cheese in a way that the peasant women could not.
I can imagine Marie Harel in the kitchen making cheese when the peckish Abbot knocked on the door and came in. While picking over the freshly made apple pie, he watched her cut the curds for the days cheese and, feeling like he must give her something, told her how the excellent Brie of his region was made and aged.
Monksplained: verb informal (of a monk) to teach a someone (usually a woman) how to do something because you have had access to resources, time and a
perspective that has not been allowed to her.
Peace and Brie be with you; how I do love Camembert.
