Page 9 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
“Now,” Lukas said, gesturing for them to follow him, “let’s take a peek inside the aging caves. This is where the cheese truly becomes Gruyère.”
They descended a stone staircase into cool dimness. The caves were carved into the mountain itself, with rough stone walls and wooden shelving that stretched far back into shadows. As far as one could see, wheels of cheese lined the open shelves like golden coins, each one marked with dates and batch numbers.
“We age our standard Gruyère for five to eighteen months,” Anja explained. “But you can’t simply count the days and declare it finished. The cheese tells you when it’s ready.”
“How?” someone asked.
Anja nodded at Bayard, encouraging him to field the question.
“The texture, the aroma, the way it sounds when you tap it,” Bayard said. “A properly aged Gruyère has a particularresonance. And the taste—” He closed his eyes briefly. “When it’s perfectly aged, there’s a moment of absolute harmony. All the flavors in balance. That’s when you know it’s finished with that stage. It’s time for the cheese to come up out of the cave, into the light, and be savored.”
Bayard’s eyes opened and landed directly on Exandra, who stood at the back of the group. She was looking at him, too. He folded his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows at her. She mirrored his stance, wrapping her own arms across her body and tilting her head defiantly at him.
They were locked in some kind of personal challenge, an inside joke, having something to do with their past, and nothing to do with the cheese.
Time to be savored, Minerva thought. She reached for Zephyr’s hand, and found she didn’t have far to grasp as he was already reaching for hers.
“Pardon the interruption.” Exandra chose this moment to call out, her voice cutting through the reverent atmosphere. “But I need to use the facilities. Can you point me in the right direction?”
“Back toward the entrance.” Anja waved toward the staircase.
Bayard watched her go, his expression troubled. He’d been afraid to even hope she would come on this trip. And now that she was here, even if it wasn’t for the reasons he’d hoped, there was so much he wanted to say to her. But it would have to wait. He turned back to the group with a forced smile. “Okay, cruisers. Shall we continue the tour?”
The tour continued through the caves, Lukas explaining their plans to expand into some of the unused chambers, Anjapointing out plaques commemorating wheels that had won awards, Bayard adding educational tidbits about aging processes and flavor development.
Jasper was consulting his notecards again, trying to walk and read at the same time, when his foot caught on an uneven stone. The cards flew from his hands, scattering across the cave floor like autumn leaves.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I—” He dropped to his knees, scrambling to gather them.
Wren pulled out her wand with a small smile. “Collectus,” she said, and the cards rose from the ground, stacking themselves neatly. She plucked them from the air and slipped them into Jasper’s jacket pocket.
“You don’t need these to impress me, you know,” she said.
Jasper looked up at her from his knees, his face flushing. “I don’t?”
“No.” She offered him a hand up. “You’re doing just fine on your own.”
He took her hand, standing slowly, and for a moment they just looked at each other.
“Come on, you two kids,” someone called from ahead. “We’re almost to the tasting room!”
As they hurried to catch up, Jasper did a terrible job of hiding his enormous smile.
Next, Anja led them past rows of aging wheels to a heavy wooden door with a small window at the center. “This is the special chamber where we age our famous Yule cheese,” she said softly,almost reverently. “We keep this one entirely traditional—no magical climate controls, just the natural stability of the deep cave. We monitor it constantly, but we let the mountain itself do the aging work.”
Through the window, everyone got a glimpse of dozens of cheese wheels glowing softly in the dim light, each marked with a golden sunburst symbol.
“These will all be ready for Yule Eve,” Lukas said. “They’re already committed to magical communities across the region. These little wheels of cheese will be the fondue centerpieces on hundreds of magical Yule tables. They will bring so much joy to families near and far. I still remember how we fought as children for the honor of being the first one to dip bread into the Yule fondue crock.”
PANIC AT THE CHEESE CO
The rustic tasting room was located even deeper back inside the caves, past the Yule cheese chamber. This was as far from the main entrance as the public was allowed and was a great place to conclude the tour.
The rounded-out space consisted of a cozy room with long wooden tables. A small space heater was running in the corner to combat the cave’s natural chill. Red and white checkered cloths covered the tables. Samples of various aged Gruyères stood on wooden boards beside large wooden bowls filled with slices of fresh, crusty bread.
“Now,” Bayard said, “this is where you can truly appreciate the differences between?—”
A piercing alarm shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
