Look at
the rind.
Every surface tells the story of the cave — the humidity, the salt, the days of patient turning.
Brume Blanche
14–21 daysSnow-white Penicillium candidum blooms cling to the rind like frost on a morning field.

Voûte Cendrée
10–16 daysVegetable ash drawn in charcoal-grey lines, interrupted by the bright chalk of the paste beneath.

Or du Cave
45–60 daysBrine-washed daily for six weeks. The rind deepens from pale gold to the amber of old honey.
Press your
thumb in.
Paste texture is the truest measure of a wheel's age and character — chalky, oozing, supple, crumbling.

Terre Bleue
Raw Milk BlueThe paste fractures cleanly at the knife — dry at the edges, giving way to a moist, almost fudgy core laced with blue-grey veins.

Cœur Coulant
Soft-RipenedPress the rind and feel it give — the interior has liquefied beneath, pooling at room temperature into something between cream and silk.
Plateau Ferme
Semi-Hard TommeThe paste bends before it breaks. Supple under the thumb, it springs back slowly — alive in a way that only raw milk achieves.
Roche Grise
Aged Chèvre FermierDry and powdery at the center — it dissolves on the tongue like fine chalk dissolving in rain, releasing bright citrus and mineral.
Close your
eyes.
Flavor notes named honestly — what the cave, the milk, and the season actually produce.
Brume Blanche
Flavor Profile- Cultured cream
- Button mushroom
- Damp forest floor
- Lemon zest finish
Terre Bleue
Flavor Profile- Salted dark chocolate
- Dried fig
- Iron and earth
- Long warm finish
Or du Cave
Flavor Profile- Roasted onion
- Aged butter
- Hay and barn
- Lingering saline depth
Reserve Your Seat
at the Table.
Seasonal days on the farm. Eighteen seats, raw milk, stone walls, and the smell of earth and salt. Pick your date below.
Open Cave Day
Tasting & Affinage TourWalk the stone-walled cave, meet the wheels by name, taste three ages of the same recipe.
Join the Wheel List.
Four times a year, we pack a small selection of wheels and ship them to people who know what to do with them. No subscription, no algorithm — just a note from the cave when something is ready.