Curious…
“The noble lambs of Roquefort”? Reading about
Roquefort cheese on the GourmetSleuth’s website, I was abruptly whisked back over
40 years, remembering vividly that it’s the cheese produced by “the noble lambs
of Roquefort.” Mum discovered that deliriously silly phrase in Réalités,
a fancy colour magazine of the late 1960s or early 1970s which was the English-language
edition of a French magazine. I think the year’s sub was a present from a well-off
friend living in Switzerland. The articles and the wonderful photos accompanying
them gave us a lot of pleasure, but the noble lambs gave us the only laugh.
Once seen, never forgotten? Well, yes. Added
to which, it comes over like a very bad translation into English of some flowery
French phrase, and the GourmetSleuth’s definition of Roquefort’s not much better—translated
by a computer?
Roquefort is considered as the “King of cheeses”.
It has a tingly pungent taste and ranks among blue cheeses. Only the milk of
specially bred sheep is used and is ripened in limestone caverns. It has the
cylinder-shape with sticky, pale ivory, natural rind. Ripe Roquefort is creamy,
thick and white on the inside and have a thin, burnt-orange skin. The ripening
of the cheeses is in the natural, damp aired caves found under the village of
Roquefort-sur-Soulzon.
(GourmetSleuth.com)
Noble Lambs?
Have another
look at Alfred Morris’s sheep. Noble? Tom Sutcliffe claims in “When sheep are
just— sheep” (ArtUK, 12 Oct 2018) that “…Alfred Morris’s sheep are crowd-scene
sheep. … And they have a job, which is to monetise otherwise unfarmable land by
turning it into meat and wool. But if they are representative of anything it is
of their own local, familiar sheepiness. Which is, I think, the most winning
thing about this particular genre of paintings. They exist for viewers who just
can’t get enough of sheep, viewers who can probably see sheep at any time they
want just by looking out of a window, but hanker after a practical way of
getting sheep indoors so they don’t have to. This kind of viewer doesn’t want
to think about Virgilian eclogues, or reflect on human waywardness, or brag
about their prize-winning New Leicester. And these pictures are here for them.
What are these sheep doing? They’re being sheep and that’s it.”
I disagree
entirely. Had the man ever left London? These are NOBLE sheep—yes, like the
noble lambs of Roquefort! Painted for a Victorian audience, they are typical of
the way their contemporaries, not
rural with views of sheep from their windows, but increasingly urbanised, liked
to view their domestic animals: they had to be charming (dogs, puppies, cats,
kittens, chicks, ducklings), or quaint (ducks, hens, piglets) or noble (more
dogs, horses, sheep, Highland cattle, prize beasts, deer) or romantic (Highland
cattle and deer again). Look at the way they're holding their heads: they're
not all head-down eating grass, which is what sheep do most of the time.
They're holding their heads up; some are giving you a profile worthy of a Roman
emperor; some are staring you down, chin well up. I grew up in a
sheep-producing country and I’ve spent a holiday on a hill sheep farm, and I
can tell you that off the canvas sheep don’t do that except on the rare occasions
when something has caught their attention.
More Noble
Lambs? Silly, But Just Sheep?
The photos
below are from: Richard Lydekker (1849-1915). The Sheep and Its Cousins; With 61 Illustrations. London, G. Allen
& Company Ltd, 1912.
Lydekker was an eminent English 19th-century
naturalist who wrote many works on aspects of natural history, including some
substantial volumes which became standard reference items in their time. Many
of his works were on the birds and animals of the modern world, but he was also
a palaeontologist, cataloguing the fossil mammals, reptiles and birds of the
Natural History Museum in a massive 10-volume work (1891). He was also an
important figure in early biogeography, the study of the geographical
distribution of plants and animals. In 1895 he delineated the biogeographical
boundary through Indonesia, known as Lydekker's Line, that separates the two
biogeographical areas of Wallacea on the west and Australia-New Guinea on the
east. His works are often profusely illustrated, some by himself, some by
eminent zoological and ornithological artists of the time. These photos of some
very odd sheep do not represent the
best of his work!
The photographer
has managed to attract their attention (except for the posed stuffed head,
natch.)
I wouldn’t say they look noble, though.
Silly, possibly, especially those poor four-horned ones on the lower right. They’re
probably Jacob sheep, which are piebald and usually multi-horned. They’re an
old traditional English breed. (“Jacob sheep”, Wikipedia.)
Well,
the cheese-producing ewes may be noble or silly, but I’d agree that Roquefort
is the king of cheeses. I had it in France and it wasn’t “tingly” and it was
only “pungent” if you automatically assume all blue cheese is pungent. It was
meltingly creamy and slightly sweet, a dream of a cheese. On the other side of
the world it’s horrendously expensive and comes in horrible little sealed plastic
packets which make it weep. Not worth the money, alas.
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