Charcuterie and Cheese Gift Box

The Charcuterie and Cheese Gift box includes artisan cheese, cured meats, and accoutrements to set out a delicious spread. Since the meats are cured and the cheese is aged, everything in the box can easily be enjoyed for weeks.

Artisan cheese

The cheddar from Pineland Farms is everything we love in a New England style cheddar. It’s a great snacking cheese, with a creamy texture and hearty, savory flavors. The gouda is selected by L’amuse in Amsterdam and set aside to age for about 6 months or so, which is on the younger side for gouda. It’s got a great milky sweetness with notes of butterscotch and caramel. Both will stay good for a long time – many days for sure, sometimes weeks.

Salami from Red Bear Provisions

Made with humanely sourced meat and traditionally cured by our friends at Red Bear Provisions in Illinois. Hours or even days at warmer temperatures won’t harm it a bit. But once it arrives, it’s best to keep it refrigerated to store it for longer.

‘Nduja from Tempesta

Nduja (pronounced en-doo-ya) is a soft, spreadable cured pork spiked with chiles. We get ours from Tony Fiasche a fifth-generation nduja maker, who uses heritage-breed pork and chiles imported from Calabria. Spread it on crackers for a creamy, gently spicy, savory treat.

Rustic Bakery Flatbread Crackers

Crispy, crunchy crackers made from organic sourdough bread and seasoned with olive oil and grey sea salt from France.

Cornichon Pickles

Cornichons (AKA gherkins in the UK) are tiny sour pickles. These cornichons come jarred in a vinegar-based brine with salt, onions and spices: mustard seeds, black pepper, and coriander seeds. They’re quite pleasantly sour and just a touch spicy, with a satisfying crunch.

Moroccan Olives

Green Beldi olives from a family farm in Morocco are carefully picked by hand, then cured in water and sea salt.

Virginia Peanuts

Virginia Diner uses super large extra whole Virginia peanuts, the top 2% of the crop. They are larger and more lozenge-shaped than runner peanuts, and their size and density contribute to the terrific crunch.

Spanish Chocolate Dipped Figs

La Higuera is in the heart of fig country in Almoharín, Spain, and they make the best fig bon bons using Calabacita figs. Following the original family recipe, they puncture the bottom of each tree-dried fig and fill it to bursting with a boozy chocolate ganache spiked with a dose of brandy. Then they enrobe the figs in a silky-smooth layer of chocolate. Individually wrapped, these treats will last for months.

How should the cheese be stored?

Hard cheeses have been carefully selected to withstand a longer transit time. Don’t worry if it arrives a bit warm or a bit cold – cheese is durable. Hard, aged cheeses stay good for a long time. Many days for sure. Sometimes weeks. Bigger hunks of cheese last longer. If it looks and smelled as expected, it’s likely still great.

Soft cheeses and cheese spreads (like pimento and liptauer) are best eaten within a week or two of receiving them.

We wrap hand-cut wedges of cheese in a cheese bag before shipment, and you can continue to keep the cheese in that cheese bag. The next best option would be parchment or wax paper. After you open the cheese for a nibble, any remainders can be put back into the bag and closed with a simple roll or fold. 

Store cheese in the fridge, ideally in the spot closest to 50 degrees. That will likely be the door of your refrigerator or in a drawer where the temperature is consistent but not too cold. Do not freeze your cheese! Cheese is a living thing. Freezing will stop the natural processes that keep cheese so tasty.

What if it’s got a little mold on it? A little mold is no problem. It’s a good sign, it means the cheese is alive. Scrape it off with a knife. But if there’s a lot of mold and it’s turning dark and funky it’s time to say goodbye.

What’s the best way to serve cheese?

Regardless of the kind of cheese, it’s best to take it out of the fridge about 20 to 30 minutes before serving it. Cheese tastes better at room temperature. It makes a world of difference: the aromas expand, becoming more complex; more of the fat spreads on your tongue, which makes the flavor more intense. When cheese is warm you’ll eat less of it and enjoy it more.

Short answer: they’re cured, so they’ll last a while!

Long answer: Curing is an ancient process that makes meat safe by keeping it inhospitable to the microbes that would otherwise cause rot. Curing is what differentiates a sausage (uncured) from a salami (cured).

Curing works its magic by eliminating bad bacteria from meat in two ways. First, by drying. Bacteria need moisture to grow and curing deprives them of it, usually with a combination of salt and some environmental measures, like dehumidified aging rooms. Second, by fermentation. Fermentation makes a salami acidic, which kills the bacteria. Not every cured meat is fermented – cured hams aren’t, for example – but they’re all dried. Once the process is complete, cured meat is safe from the bacteria that would spoil it. That means it can be stored at room temperature for a long time, until we’re ready to eat it.

Cured meats like salami, prosciutto, and ‘nduja will last for weeks or even months if stored correctly and unsliced. Slice salami as you eat it – keeping it whole will help prevent it from drying out.

What if it arrives warm?

We don’t necessarily ship cured meats with ice packs. Since it’s cured, it’s healthy and happy at warm temperatures. To prolong its life at home keep it refrigerated. But hours or even days at warmer temperatures won’t harm it a bit.

What’s up with mold on salami?

Downy white mold is as essential to salami flavor as blue mold is for blue cheese. Every good salami has mold on it at some point in its life. It’s a sign the salami is aging well; the mold protects the fat from going rancid. If you’re buying one without mold it was probably washed off at some point. It’s edible, but you can also wash it off with a bit of vinegar and water if you’d like. If a little mold returns in time it’s a good sign.

Nduja (pronounced en-doo-ya) is soft, spreadable cured pork, spiked with plenty of chiles. In the charcuterie world, nduja falls into the category of “spreadable salamis” (I promise that’s a real thing). Mmm, spreadable meat—can’t you just picture Homer Simpson mumbling it? You might think of it as spicy pork butter, though there’s no dairy involved.

It starts out like salami: raw pork and pork fat are mixed together with seasonings, then hung to cure for several weeks. Like all salamis, nduja was traditionally made with the meat left from butchery. The difference that makes salami solid and nduja spreadable is in the proportions. Most salami is about 75-80% lean meat and 20-25% fat. Nduja is the opposite. All that extra fat makes the texture luscious and spreadable.

A few decades ago, nduja was all but unknown outside of its hometown of Spilinga in Calabria.

Calabria has long been known for its fruit and spicy chiles. Nduja is a more recent export. In fact, the nduja we get today isn’t an export at all—in the US it’s illegal to import Italian salami, so essentially all of the “Italian-style” salamis you see at the store are made right here in the states. Maybe nduja stayed a secret because of those tricky export laws or maybe the people of Spilinga just wanted to keep it all for themselves. But eventually word got out, and over the last decade it’s been making a big impression in the food world. It’s no surprise—tasting nduja for the first time is a memorable event. There’s the punch of spice, the unctuous richness, the silky texture, the deep, savory meatiness. The Wall Street Journal’s Jane Black said: “If Joan Jett were an Italian, and a sausage, she’d be ‘nduja.”

Our nduja is made by Tony Fiasche, a fifth-generation nduja maker.

Tony’s grandparents owned a butcher shop near Spilinga. Tony’s father, Agostino, was born there and grew up helping his father in the shop. As a boy he remembers breaking down whole hogs and grinding meat by hand with a crank—”not like we do today!” he recalls. Growing up, he says “my parents didn’t have money to buy me shoes. But there was always bread, always salami, always nduja.” He ate it on bread, mixed into pasta, on pizza.

Tony’s nduja starts with heritage-breed pork and chiles imported from Calabria.

His classic recipe features Berkshire pork. Berkshire is one of the most popular heritage breeds with chefs. It’s tender and has big flavor—to me it’s especially “porky.” Tony gets his Berkshire pork from a collection of family farms in southwest Minnesota. The pigs live free range, roaming and rooting as they please, spending their days outdoors as the weather permits. They never receive subtherapeutic antibiotics or growth-promoting hormones.