On a sunny Tuesday in the tail end of August, the smell of stale basement, soggy papers, and a sachet of old wet laundry emanates from nearly every apartment as Irene’s moldy legacy lives on. Skipping over the draining pump pipes lining Monroe Street, veering off through a pair of glass doors, the odor is replaced with a beautiful, funky, lactic perfume. This aromatic oasis is The Cheese Store, and owner Chung Park stands behind the counter ready to introduce you to his life’s passion.

Park specializes in a different and highly desirable sort of mold - the kind that infiltrates and creates pungent cerulean veins in blue cheese, that blooms into the complex edible rind surrounding a good brie (yes, you can and should eat the rind), and that turns simple fresh goat cheese into a heavenly paste with a taste that lingers long after you leave the store.

Park is a curator of flavor, and he has filled The Cheese Store with a selection that represents the varying types of milk, styles of production, and major producing regions of cheese. The store’s purpose, Park explains, is to “celebrate cheese: the culture and the methods involved in making and enjoying it.” His cheeses are artisanal, reflecting each producer’s region and process.

Park not only sells the product, but he also partakes in the cheese making process. He brings in certain cheeses fresh or midway through the aging period in order to allow them to fully develop and ripen in his own temperature controlled “cellars,” which are actually windowed refrigerators standing at the store’s entrance. He estimates that there are less than a dozen retailers in the nation making and finishing cheese on premise.

Park tends to his trays of cheese the way a mother hen cares for her nest of eggs. He turns the wheels and pats them down, gently squeezing each to determine the perfect point of ripeness. Currently cold-incubating in the “cellar” is a week-old tray of wiffle ball sized wheels covered with a fuzzy white mold. Another tray carries a wizened batch of the same cheese with a more gnarly texture and grayish blue spots dotting the surface.

Park reads his cheeses like a book. “This one will taste more complex than the others”, he says while pointing out a light bloom of orange mold growing on the wedge of goat milk brie that I’ve selected. “If you want a more mild cheese, you should choose one with a pure white rind.” I stick with my pungent little ugly duckling brie and continue browsing.

The cheese cases at the back of the store contain favorite standbys (a sharp Piave, creamy Humboldt Fog, and piquant Caveman Blue) as well as many less familiar choices. Park, always happy to talk cheese and share samples, hands me a petite spoonful of Délice de Bourgogne, the store’s most popular cheese. The reason for its status is immediately obvious. The silky, buttery triple cream is salty, lush, and heavy with umami. After trying more samples I add to my basket a wheel of Selles-sur-Cher, one of the custom-aged cheeses, this one flown young from France’s Loire Valley, and a Prairie Breeze cheddar from a little-known creamery in Milton, Iowa.

As conversation meanders momentarily off the topic of cheese, Park talks about his experience owning a small business in Hoboken. “It’s tough, but Hoboken is a great town. We have so many customers who make a conscious effort to support local business.”

While the cheese takes center stage, other immaculate products vie for supporting roles. A gourmet selection of cured meats, quality dry goods and other treats, including Balthazar baguettes and pints of Van Leeuwen’s ice cream, fill the shelves. The store also sells sandwiches and catering platters.

Mold may continue to be a problem in most of Hoboken, but at The Cheese Store it’s a welcome ally to creating some of the best flavors on earth.

The Cheese Store
720 Monroe Street
www.thecheesestorehoboken.com
(201) 683-8162