We were down in East Sussex for the Bank Holiday weekend and, once the rain had stopped and we’d swilled out our tent, the weather was glorious and the countryside lush. If I was a cow in Sussex I’d be pretty happy with my lot. Endless green meadows full of buttercups and clover would fill the belly of the fussiest Friesian. So it seemed only right to hunt out some local cheese. And as we drove though ancient country lanes, their banks spilling wildflowers onto the road, it seemed that there was an oast house round every corner.
Fromage Homage 