Clockwise, from top: Cantal, Bleu d'Auvergne, Fourme d'Ambert and St.-Nectaire.
		How to Get It
		Other Sam Gugino "Tastes" columns

The remote Auvergne, with its rustic, traditional way of life and mountainous terrain, just might be the last undiscovered corner of France. Yet the sparsely populated Auvergne, in France's Massif Central, produces food remarkable enough to sustain a Michelin three-star restaurant, Michel Bras, in Laguiole. It is home to renowned cheeses, Puy lentils (the ne plus ultra of lentils), great produce (including knock-your-socks-off garlic) and the stylish knives and corkscrews made in Laguiole.

The raw materials and finished products of the Auvergne owe their goodness to its terroir, which includes its pristine setting (with less pollution than any region in France) and rich, fertile land. Ancient volcanic activity infused minerals and other essential ingredients into the soil and water. Spas dot the region, and the locally bottled Volvic is one of France's best-known spring waters.

Michel Bras' sophisticated cooking notwithstanding, the cuisine of the Auvergne reflects the hard life of the region and its bitterly cold winters. Food is copious and simple, and meals are often built around savory hams and sausages, vegetables and large loaves of rye bread. For example, one of the region's signature dishes is potée auvergnate, a stew of cabbage, turnips and salted pork. Another is aligot, a rib-sticking combination of mashed potatoes, garlic and fresh curds of Cantal, the region's best-known cheese.

Cheese is the cornerstone of Auvergnat cuisine. In his book Cheese Primer (Workman Publishing Co., 1996), Steve Jenkins, of New York's Fairway Market, writes that the Auvergne "is the source of the most stunning array of cheeses in the world." The Auvergne has more Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée cheeses than any other region of France: Cantal, Salers, Bleu d'Auvergne, Fourme d'Ambert and St.-Nectaire (nearby Rouergue produces three more AOC cheeses: Laguiole, Roquefort and Bleu des Causses). Auvergne cheeses are built on the incomparable richness of the local milk, which comes primarily from the shaggy brown Salers cattle.

Cantal is one of the world's oldest cheeses, tracing its roots back some two millennia. Most of Cantal is mass-produced from pasteurized milk in the departement of that name. But Salers, which is contained within Cantal, is more often a farmstead cheese, meaning it is usually made in much smaller quantities than Cantal, with milk from cows owned by the cheesemaker. And Salers can only be made from Salers cattle, whereas Cantal will often contain milk from two other breeds in addition to Salers. "Cheesemakers in Salers tend to be more persnickety," says Peter Kindel, fromager at Murray's Cheese Shop in New York, where I tasted several Auvergne cheeses.

The rich and nutty farmstead Salers from producer GAEC du Bois Jolis reminded me of a topnotch English Cheddar. In fact, all Cantal cheeses are made by the same process used to make Cheddar. Though it lacked the intensity of flavor of the Salers, Cantal was still toothsome, a good all-around cheese for eating and cooking.

When it is industrially made (i.e., mass-produced with pasteurized milk), St.-Nectaire has a well-washed, smooth, reddish rind that conceals a creamy, runny and often odorous interior. In farmstead versions, the rinds are less frequently washed, which creates a rougher texture and a firmer interior because bacteria don't penetrate as easily. Ripening on grass mats gives the farmstead version an earthier and grassier aroma and a more subtle and complex taste. Keep this one for the cheese tray, and serve with fresh and dried fruits.

The Auvergne and Rouergue produce some of the best blue cheeses in the world, including my favorite, Fourme d'Ambert. Usually less than $10 a pound, even for a farmstead version, Fourme d'Ambert is a remarkable bargain. Sweet and creamy, with a hint of anise, it's much less salty than Roquefort and less intense, so you can eat more than one bite, which you most surely will want to do. Bleu d'Auvergne, on the other hand, is more like Roquefort and is often referred to as the cow version of Roquefort (which is made from sheep's milk). I'd use Bleu d'Auvergne for cooking in dishes such as the gratin Auvergnat, a magnificent potato gratin from Bistro Cooking (Workman Publishing Co., 1989) by Patricia Wells.

Gaperon and Lavort are not AOC designated, but are definitely worth seeking out. Don't let Gaperon's cute dome shape and yellow ribbon fool you, though. Beneath the velvety white skin (edible when the cheese is young) is an explosive one-two punch of garlic and black pepper. Though made from low-fat buttermilk, it has an unctuous mouthfeel similar to that of Brie. The robust Gaperon will stand up to any charcuterie. Rob Kaufelt, owner of Murray's, suggests melting some in an omelet. The sheep's milk cheese Lavort is still relatively unknown outside the Auvergne. This 1-pound cylinder with a sunken center has a rustic exterior that just screams "handmade at the farm." The inside yields a sweet, nutty flavor, a good match for apples or pears.

The light and fruity red wines of the Auvergne -- St.-Pourçain, Côtes du Forez, Côte Roannaise and Côtes d'Auvergne are the main appellations -- would pair nicely with most of the region's cheeses. All the reds are made with Gamay Noir, the same grape used in Beaujolais, though a Côtes du Forez I tried had enough stuffing and peppery notes to make it taste like a Côtes du Rhône. Try this wine with the Gaperon. Gregory Moore, former sommelier of Le Bec Fin restaurant in Philadelphia and co-owner of Moore Brothers Wine Company in Pennsauken, N.J., calls the St.-Pourçain white he sells "racy and very fine." I'd concur and recommend this combination of Chardonnay and Tresallier grapes as an aperitif before an Auvergnat meal, perhaps with some roasted garlic on country bread.

The snow-white Auvergne garlic I bought at Jenkins' store was glorious. "It blows away the stuff from California," says Jenkins, who also brings in shallots and onions from the Auvergne on occasion. Unfortunately, most charcuterie meats, especially the hams (some of which are covered in ash) and sausages, are not yet available here. Like most charcuterie producers in France, Auvergnat ham- and sausage-makers refuse to adhere to what they consider the unnecessary standards of the United States Department of Agriculture.

If you've never cooked with the dark green, almost black Puy lentils, you're in for a treat. Named after the medieval town of Le Puy-en-Velay, lentille verte du Puy was the first vegetable to receive AOC status (and the second nonwine product; Roquefort was the first). The volcanic soil gives these lentils a nutty flavor and a slight pepperiness. Despite their diminutive size -- they look like periods at the end of a sentence -- they hold up remarkably well to cooking, like the best Italian dried pasta.

Also like good pasta, lentils can carry many flavors without losing their own. One classic way to serve them is cooked with pork sausages, onion, garlic and dry white wine, then dressed with a mustardy vinaigrette, perfect for a chilly winter night. A cool lentil salad with young goat cheese also makes a fine picnic dish for warmer weather. I've also had great results with lime juice-spiked Puy lentils on smoked salmon.

Though Auvergnat cuisine is generally simple, it is not without flourishes. Native son Marc Targournet, chef and owner of Trois Marches restaurant in New York, says many would be surprised by how often saffron is used in the region's cooking. Targournet even gives his Auvergnat coq au vin some razzamatazz by swirling in a bit of chocolate at the finish. Auvergnat coq au vin? "People from Burgundy say it's from there. But we think they stole it from us," he says.