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If you’re familiar with gjetost cheese, chances are good that you’ve already formed a strong opinion about it. Like marzipan or Vegemite, Norwegian gjetost (pronounced yet-toast) is considered by some to be an acquired taste, and can be a particularly polarizing food outside of its native homeland.
We here at Two Lazy Gourmets are split down the middle by this divisive delicacy/oddity. When the topic occasionally comes up, Robin wrinkles her nose and offers as charitably as she can, “Oh yeah, gjetost…my friend’s kids love that stuff.” I, on the other hand, first tried this sweet, dense, orange-brown cheese about twenty years ago, and after an initial instant of palate confusion I was totally hooked. I had acquired the taste in a matter of seconds.
Gjetost, which means “goat cheese,” is a variety of the centuries-old Norwegian tradition of brunost (“brown cheese”). Brunost comprises many different dairy products made from cow’s or goat’s whey. (Because brunost is made from whey, as opposed to curds, it’s technically not a genuine cheese. But whatever. It says cheese on the package.) It’s made by slowly simmering the ingredients until the water evaporates and the milk sugars caramelize, which results in the distinct brown color and caramel flavor. Some varieties use only goat products, while others use only cow products—giving them stronger and milder flavors, respectively. The rich and delicious Ski Queen brand of gjetost that’s relatively easy to find here in the U.S. contains a combination of goat’s milk, cow’s milk, cream, and whey. And thanks to all of the mouth-watering research I’ve been doing, I’m now on a mission to find prim—a spreadable version of brunost comparable to dulce de leche. I haven’t yet found it here in San Francisco, but I’ll keep looking. Or start planning my next vacation.
For the uninitiated: Gjetost comes in dense, rich, vinyl-smooth blocks; melts slowly in the mouth; and tastes like a tart, salty caramel candy. It’s traditionally enjoyed on toast, shaved into thin slices, sometimes accompanied by jam. I love it with apple or pear, or just by itself with coffee.
Last weekend I gave my friend Carolyn a ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles. In my snack bag I had packed, among other things, apple slices and gjetost. I was a little apprehensive about introducing her to it, for there was a reasonable chance that she, as a brown cheese newbie, would find it thoroughly disgusting and forever remember me as the weirdo who can’t just chill out and eat Doritos on a road trip. My reputation was unharmed, however, as Carolyn spontaneously reacted with the same piqued glee that had grabbed me twenty years ago. This experience inspired me to conduct experiments on a handful of other friends who had not yet acquired (or rejected) the taste for gjetost. The results were mixed, as expected. A couple of them loved it, a couple were indifferent, and one seemed a little weirded out but kept going back for more.
So now I want to know what you think. Do you love gjetost/brunost? Hate it? Not sure? Post your opinions in the comments section. And please include any great ideas for use. I’ll be thrilled to discover new ways to enjoy my favorite curd-free, whey-based, Norwegian dairy product!
My mom is 100% Norwegian, so we grew up with gjetost in our home! Your story and all the comments are great! It’s true, some of our friends hate it and some love it!!
We put it on our Norwegian waffle recipe, just butter and gjetost on top of the waffle. Some of my siblings like it with butter, sugar, then gjetost on the waffle! We also put it on toast or julekake (Norwegian Christmas bread).
Love it. It’s great when you use the cheese slicer to put a thin slice on that coarse dark bread that they make in Norway. And it’s very good on American sourdough toast in the morning.
Okay. I’ve got to weigh in here. First of all, I LOVE any kind of cheese. Any kind, that is, except for gjetost. Now I know where I draw the line on what I call “cheese”. My in-laws sent me home a couple weeks ago with a block of Ski Queen gjetost they got from a couple of their turtle-necked, semi-retired foodie friends. Being someone who almost never turns down an opportunity to try new foods, especially cheese, I tried a chunk of it on a cracker. I noticed immediately that I did not care for the bizarre mix of caramel and goat flavor. Being polite, I took the package home and thanked them for the unusual treat. Thinking perhaps they might have sliced it too thickly, I then tried a thinly sliced curl just on it’s own. The flavor was still unpalatable to me, and the aftertaste had an adverse effect on my appetite for the next hour or so. Not to be defeated by this unusual new food, I just now tried it for a third time but with applesauce thinking that maybe I’m missing a key accompaniment. Third time’s a charm, right? Nope! This stuff tastes like something went wrong at the factory. Being a self-proclaimed lover of all-things-cheese, I am left to assume that this has just got to be another passing fad. I can’t see why people eat it other than to impress each other. I’m sure Norway is a beautiful place with wonderful cuisine and vibrant culture (hey, I love Geir Jenssen’s music), but the taste I have in my mouth right now is not selling me on anything else Norwegian. Blaeickh!
It is one of my favorites! I have been eating it since I was a little girl. Yummy!
Love love love it! Best with a bit of jam! Been eating ski Queen goat cheese all my life. Even my cats love it!
Love, love, love, LOVE it! Tried it for the first time on a whim; I’d seen it at Stop & Shop (supermarket chain in New England) for some time and never tried it. I was going to a party and I was bringing the cheese, crackers, chips, and dip, and wanted to try something different from the usual cheddar, Havarti, brie, swiss cheeses that I usually bring. What the hell, it can only be lousy. Ethnically, the families aren’t Norwegian nor even Scandinavian but German-Polish Jewish and Irish, so when I opened up the package, I didn’t know what to make of it. No rind, no holes, and I cut it up into small cubes and wedges. The texture is different from all of the other cheeses, and the combination of starting sweet/caramel and the light salty taste at the end made it absolutely delicious and unusual. We tried it with crackers and toast and pears and apples. One family member was a little put off by the color–she wasn’t used to eating brown cheese, but everyone else loved it. Next time I’ll slicing it paper thin and/or melting it over toast. Someone else on a blog suggested using it for fondue, which sounds great. I haven’t tried it with veggies, but it went well with fruit and with a nice dry wine, so I should think it would go well with carrots and celery. Now I wish I’d tried it years ago….and hope that Stop & Shop will continue to carry it.
You can buy it at the International cheese and deli shop in the byward market in Ottawa. I buy it for my mom every Christmas…
Some hint of salt triscuits, a shaving of this weird “cheese” and a dab of strawberry jam and you got a pretty tasty snack!
This has now replaced Druken Goat cheese (Spain) as my favorite cheese!
I had this cheese for the first time tonight when a caterer served it at our loft party. I love it! Hope I can buy it here!