The Cheese Board Read Online Free Page A

The selection of cheeses from around the world was enormous, and there were many more baked goods. The marriage of bread and cheese remained strong. Nationwide there was a growing interest in rustic bread; our passion for bread making had already led us to develop many recipes, so the timing was perfect. The Cheese Board was gradually becoming as much a bakery as a specialty cheese store.
    When the sixties finally ended in Berkeley, sometime around 1994, the only thing left standing from that bygone era was the Cheese Board. Odd that a time and place so thoroughly associated with outrage and rebellion should all melt down into four hundred or so tasty blobs of Camembert, Port Salut, and Bleu des Causses. Those of us old enough to remember its first tiny storefront have watched fads in politics, haircuts, nose rings, and bread dough come and go, but the Cheese Board stands alone.
    —ALICE KAHN, WRITER AND CUSTOMER
    With the increased space and redoubled energy, the collective members decided to push back the opening time from 10 A.M. to 7 A.M. for breakfast customers. Soon we found we were running a café—the Morning Bakery—complete with espresso drinks, homemade jam, and pastries. As the store’s focus became more bakery oriented, the shifts began earlier and earlier. (Now, some shifts start as early as 2 A.M. )
    I really love doing the coffee line in the morning. You get to know the customers, the regulars. You start playing a game with yourself: having the change ready in your hand.
    —ERIN
    2003
    I have eaten my way through only about one-sixteenth of the products, but it’s not just about the cheese or the sun-dried tomato focaccia. It’s about the collective spirit of the place, even though like a Broadway hit, most of the original cast has come and gone. I remember when some of the new kids on the block of Shattuck near Vine cut their first slices of smoked Gouda.
    —ALICE KAHN
    Food is still central to our neighborhood. A former Cheese Boarder runs the Phoenix Pastificio a few blocks away; Poulet, a deli-café, is down the street; Masse’s, a French bakery across Shattuck, provides us with birthday cakes; César serves Spanish-style tapas across the street; Grégoire, a tiny takeout place, is around the corner from us. And many of our old friends are still here: the Juice Bar, Saul’s Deli, Chez Panisse, and Peet’s.
    Recently, the collective voted to close on a Saturday in October in order to march for peace in San Francisco. We met our customers andneighbors at the BART station—a familiar multigenerational group. While this new peace movement is reminiscent of the sixties, when we look back over the years, we find that the food we make has infiltrated the home more easily than our politics filtered into the American workplace. Even supermarket chains now carry artisan breads and specialty cheeses.
    Much of what we have done has come about by chance, by following our passion for food with the support of our community. The belief that every voice is central has sustained us over the years. We have never waveredfrom the original vision of a democratic workplace. This commitment has made it possible to constantly reinvent ourselves while remaining faithful to our political vision and our belief in good, honest food.
    I think we are political in a more subtle, natural sense than in the past. We used to talk much more about politics at meetings and when we got together outside of the store. Actually, in a practical sense, we are just as political as we have ever been.
    —MICHAEL
    The most political thing we do is that we all own the business together. We let that be our statement.
    —JULIA
    To me, one of the basic principles of the Cheese Board is to create a great product at a reasonable price, with a generosity of spirit. If you can do all that, the business will thrive. If you can do all that while at the same time creating a democratic workplace, it can be an incredibly fun place to work. These