A Sense of Place on the Board

British cheese is a map you can eat. Every county seems to have its own shape, rind and tang, and the differences are rarely accidental. A cloth-bound Cheddar from the Somerset levels tastes of the pasture it came from; a crumbly Wensleydale carries the cool sweetness of upland grass. Local breeds, local weather and generations of dairy skill all leave their mark.

The old regional styles grew from practical need. Hard cheeses kept through winter, blue cheeses ripened in cool stone cellars, and soft fresh cheeses were eaten within days. Knowing a little of that history makes a picnic or a ploughman's far more interesting — and choosing what to eat alongside is half the pleasure.

The West Country and the South West

Somerset and the surrounding counties are the heartland of the British cheese board. Farmhouse Cheddar, still made in cloth and larded by hand, is nutty, grassy and firm enough to crumble rather than slice. Its close relatives — Double Gloucester, with its mellow, buttery orange paste, and Cornish Yarg, wrapped in nettle leaves — offer gentler alternatives for a mixed board.

• Farmhouse Cheddar: dry cider, crisp apple, celery, wholemeal bread and a spoonful of ale chutney.
• Double Gloucester: a brown ale, pickled onions and thick-cut ham.
• Cornish Yarg: new potatoes, spring onions and a light cider — the nettle rind is edible.
• Dorset blue: pears and a slice of fruit loaf to balance the salt.

Serve these at room temperature. Cold mutes the very flavours you have paid for.

The North of England and the Borders

Yorkshire and Lancashire have been arguing about cheese for centuries, and both sides have a point. Wensleydale, originally made by Cistercian monks, is crumbly, honeyed and gently sharp — the classic partner for fruit cake. Lancashire comes in two moods: creamy and young, or crumbly and aged, with a lactic tang that cuts through rich food. Further north, Swaledale brings a buttery ewes' milk character, and Cheshire, one of Britain's oldest cheeses, is salty, friable and excellent with a slice of fruit loaf.

• Wensleydale: Yorkshire parkin, apple slices, or a wedge of fruit cake.
• Lancashire: oatcakes, pickled onions and a glass of mild ale.
• Cheshire: celery, walnuts and brown bread and butter.

The Midlands and the Blue Cheese Tradition

Stilton needs no introduction, but it does deserve context. The name is protected and the cheese must be made in Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire or Derbyshire, from local milk, and allowed to form its own blue veins rather than being pierced. The result is creamy, peppery and rich — a festive board in itself. Red Leicester, meanwhile, is the mild, nutty counterweight: good for toasting, good for children, good with a sharp chutney. Shropshire Blue, despite the name, is a twentieth-century creation with a startling orange paste and a mellow, less aggressive blue.

• Stilton: port, walnuts, pears and plain oat biscuits.
• Red Leicester: tomato chutney, crusty white bread and a slice of apple.
• Shropshire Blue: a hoppy bitter or a glass of vintage cider.

Wales and Scotland: Uplands and Coasts

Welsh cheesemaking has enjoyed a quiet revival. Caerphilly, once the miners' lunch packed with bread and butter, is crumbly, lemony and mildly salty, with a fresh white rind. Y Fenni, studded with mustard seeds and ale, needs nothing more than a good loaf. Look also for Hafod and Perl Las for a richer, more savoury note.

In Scotland, Crowdie is a soft, fresh cheese — almost like thick yoghurt — traditionally eaten with oatcakes and honey. Dunlop is the country's great hard cheese, buttery and mild, while Hebridean cheddars carry a distinctive, slightly smoky depth from coastal grazing.

• Caerphilly: bread and butter, apple, or a bowl of leek soup.
• Y Fenni: a dark ale and pickled walnuts.
• Crowdie: oatcakes, heather honey and a few raspberries.
• Dunlop: oat bread, chutney and a wee dram on the side.

Pairings for Picnics, Ploughman's and Festive Boards

A good board is built on contrast, not quantity. Choose three to five cheeses of different milks, textures and strengths — one fresh, one hard, one blue, one smoked or flavoured — and let each have its own small knife so the flavours stay separate. Take them out of the fridge an hour before serving.

• Picnics: firm cheeses travel best. Wrap wedges in waxed paper rather than cling film so they can breathe, and pack apple slices in lemon water to stop them browning.
• Ploughman's lunches: a hard cheese, thick-cut ham, a generous spoon of pickle, crusty bread, salad, and a pint of something local.
• Festive boards: Stilton at the centre, port or a tawny, walnuts, grapes, and a wedge of Wensleydale with fruit cake at the other end.

Buy from a market stall or farm shop where you can taste before you commit, and ask what is in season — spring and summer milk gives softer, grassier cheese, while autumn and winter milk tends to be richer. Above all, eat it slowly. Regional cheese is local history you can hold in your hand, and it rewards a little attention.