Chevre is a friendly cheese. Fear it not.
Pronounce the first syllable in Chevrolet. Add a slightly guttural “r.” Easy.
Chevre, made from goats’ milk in the Loire Valley since 700 A.D., is not stinky, either, like countrymen Roquefort and bleu. No moldy rind to deal with, a la Camembert. In fact, chevre tastes quite at home on a New York bagel.
“It’s very mild,” Hunter Stovall reassured a grimacing gawker at the Saturday farmers market in Southern Pines. “Here, try some.”
Chevre also feels quite at home in West End,
One of the Stovalls’ goats
where Sue and Hunter Stovall produce small batches at Paradox Farm — an idyllic setting for a children’s tale peopled by Barry the llama, who guards one flock; Hotei (Buddha) the donkey, who stands sentinel over another; and Dox, a Great Pyrenees who sounds an alarm should a predator approach the bucks.