What Is Wensleydale?

Is Wensleydale A) a crumbly, acidic cheese, pasteurised and vacuum-packed in plastic; B) a mellow, squidgy cheese, made with raw milk and bound in cloth; or C) both? The answer, as you may have guessed, is C. Let's discuss why such a familiar cheese can be so varied.

Factory Wensleydale is made quickly and efficiently – with lots of starter culture and not much time between adding rennet and moulding up the milled curd. The result is an intensely lemony flavour and grainy texture. “That is what people have come to think of as modern Wensleydale,” says Bronwen Percival, our Technical Director. It is almost always pasteurised and moulded in rectangular blocks. Sometimes, the finished cheese is even blended with cranberries or other fruits or spices.

A century ago, Wensleydale was made more slowly. Farming families tended to their cheese over the course of long, busy days. The process – and the cheese – varied from farm to farm and family to family. But generally, the farmhouse make yielded gentler, more multidimensional flavours and softer textures. Imagine cutting through a layer of calico to yield a wedge of cheese. Picture paste the colour of tallow. If you squeezed it, it would yield and bounce back.

It is no surprise that British customers are more familiar with factory Wensleydale. For decades, the other kind – sometimes called pre-war or farmhouse Wensleydale – was essentially extinct. The 20th century chipped away at the economic viability of small-scale cheesemaking; by the 21st, there were essentially no raw milk, farmhouse Wensleydale producers left.

“10 years ago, there was no farmhouse Wensleydale,” Bronwen says. “Now, there is a new generation of small producers.” Stonebeck, Whin Yeats, and Yoredale are examples of a new wave of Wensleydale that recalls the old: made at a small scale, at a comparatively slow pace. They are reminders of what Wensleydale was – and what it can be.

Yoredale is one glowing example of this efflorescence of small-scale Wensleydales. You might be surprised to hear how it began: with the encouragement of David Hartley, then Managing Director of Wensleydale Creamery. (Now owned by multinational corporation Saputo, Wensleydale Creamery produces thousands of tonnes of Wensleydale per year.)

In 2019, Ben’s family were dairy farmers, selling their milk to Wensleydale Creamery for factory production. “We spoke to David Hartley … about potentially doing a [milk] vending machine on-farm,” Ben remembers. “And he said, ‘well actually, why are you putting all the processing equipment in for vending on-farm? Have you thought about doing an unpasteurised cheese?’” Hartley, who passed away in 2020, helped make their first batches of Wensleydale. Today Ben co-runs Curlew Dairy with his wife Sam; Yoredale is their flagship cheese.

“We started from Wensleydale Creamery’s recipe,” gradually moving towards a more hand-made process, says Ben. That move happened step by step, batch by batch; with help from Andy Swinscoe of Courtyard Dairy and David Lockwood, Neal's Yard Dairy’s Chairman. The duration of the make stretched from two-and-a-half hours to four-and-a-half. The whey was drained sooner, when the curds were less acidic. “That led to a much softer, more buttery cheese,” Sam says.

Now, Yoredale is light, fluffy, and markedly different from the Wensleydale you can find at the supermarket. At times, that has led to some amusing misunderstandings. "The latest cheese awards, we sent our cheese in as a Wensleydale and we got marked as, basically, no points,” Ben says. “The comment was ‘this is not a Wensleydale. Perhaps the wrong category. Very, very strange cheese.’”

At other times, it has led to heart-warming moments. “We've had quite a lot of older people who remember what it used to be like, saying ‘this is what it was like when I was a kid, and this is amazing, ‘cause, you can't get this anymore,’” Sam says.

It would be an oversimplification to say Yoredale is a traditional Wensleydale. It would be an oversimplification to say that any Wensleydale is traditional. In the 19th century, when farmhouse cheesemaking was at its peak, there would have been as many Wensleydales as there were farms. What were the cows eating? How long did it take to make the cheese? What methods had the mothers and daughters of the family learned over time? Any and all of these factors would have influenced each batch.

Similarly, each new Wensleydale is made slightly differently and tastes slightly different as a result. Sally and Andrew Hattan hang curd in muslin bags to make meaty, squidgy Stonebeck. Tom and Clare Noblet make curdy, mushroom-y Whin Yeats with the fresh milk of their herd of Holsteins. As Ben and Sam extend their make time, Yoredale’s texture opens and lightens. “The cheese is a marrying of technique and fitting it around our lifestyle: what time to pick the kids up, et cetera,” Sam says. “I think when you combine those two, you end up with a unique cheese that's specific to your dairy and your location.”

Maybe the lesson is to focus less on labels, more on the character of each individual cheese. “Everyone always asks us, ‘what is a Wensleydale?’” Sam says. “And, you know, I don't really have an answer for that. I just make the cheese that I like.”

You can buy Yoredale, Whin Yeats and Stonebeck (when in season) in our online shop.