Several clocks at once.

People tend to assume sheep's cheese is a summer thing that disappears in autumn. It's a reasonable assumption, and it's about half right. 

Some of the flock at Errington Dairy. ©Marc Millar Photography courtesy Errington Cheese

Some of the flocks we buy from lamb in late winter and are milked through to the dry end of summer. When they stop, that's it until spring, and everything made in those months either went out as young, fresh cheese months ago or has been turned into a hard cheese that has been sitting in our rooms ever since, maturing. Others farms lamb all year round and make continuously, so their cheese arrives every week regardless of the season.  

Which means that at the end of August the sheep's cheeses are doing multiple different things at once. Something is finishing. Something is arriving. Something is carrying on exactly as it was. It's worth knowing which is which, particularly this year, because there's a lot of very good sheep's cheese in the rooms at the moment, and a fortnight from now some of it will be gone until spring. 

What's finishing 

Pyghtle. It's been dry, the grass dried up, and Jess’ ewes—which supply Broughton Hall Dairy—have stopped earlier than any of us hoped. Unfortunately, by the time you read this, we will most likely have sold the last of it. It's also worth noting that this was a great year for Pyghtle quality, and the cheese made real progress over the course of it. We're looking forward to next Spring’s Pyghtle already. 

 Jess' ewes in more lush spring fields. Their milk is used by Emily at Brougton Hall Dairy. 

Brefu Bach. There are several weeks left in the season, so no need to panic, but this is the moment to eat it rather than the moment to make future plans. It's been rich and aromatic this year, with a real smoky, complex character and length. 

Corra Linn, 2025. We're down to the last few batches of the 2025 stock, dense, almost crystalline, and savoury. When it’s gone it’s gone, and what replaces it is a different cheese, which we'll come to below. 

What's carrying on 

Several of our sheep's cheeses come from flocks that lamb all year round, so nothing about them changes in September. That doesn't mean they're identical week to week. Natural-rinded cheese responds to the room it sits in, and this summer has left visible marks on two of ours. 

Spenwood has come out of the summer in a green coat rather than its usual sandblasted pink. Natural rinds do this. The mix of moulds that colonises a rind shifts with conditions, and this year the greens got in first and stayed. We can't yet tell you why, but we think it might be down to the exceptionally warm summer. What we can tell you is that the cheese underneath is unaffected, and that we've grown rather fond of the fluffier look. 

The usual sandblasted pink rinds of Spenwood. This summer we have seen rinds with dinstinctive green moulds.

Riseley has had a mouldier rind (more tan and filamentous, less sticky and pink) than we'd like for most of the summer. The cheese inside was always sound, and over the past few weeks we've seen a return to the squidgy, pink, fulsome cheeses we want from it. We're still working out what was behind the change with the Wigmores so we can anticipate and pre-empt these mouldier cheeses next summer. 

Wigmore and Yorkshire Pecorino are doing exactly what they always do, which after a paragraph about mould is not the faint praise it sounds like. 

Beenleigh Blue and Brunswick Blue are variations on the same cheese; Brunswick is the one we mature and sell ourselves. There's a lot of both about at the moment, more than we'd usually have at this point in the year. Beenleigh is sweet, boozy and heady, with sherry and liqueur notes, and a texture that melts like fondant on the tongue. If you already know you like sweet blues, this is the one to be eating this autumn. Brunswick has a slightly more rugged appearance, with its natural rind, and a more mushroomy-umami hit. 

What's arriving 

Nettus, 2026. The milk supply Emily Tydeman at Broughton Hall Dairy uses for Pyghtle and Nettus has ended for the season, but the supply of Nettus hasn't, because as a hard cheese, it’s still maturing here in our Arches in London. We’ve just launched the 2026 batches and will keep selling them as each batch becomes ready. We mature all of it here in Bermondsey and send a share back to the farm for Emily to sell directly to her other customers, which is the sort of arrangement that makes sense when a maker has the milk and the skill but not yet the room and the maturation expertise. 

Moulds for Nettus at Broughton Hall Dairy and the cheeses maturing at our Bermondsey arches.

Corra Linn, early 2026. We selected these in June and liked them enormously. Softer and more giving in texture than the late-2025 batches they're arriving on the heels of, with a red-berried fruitiness in the aroma and juicy freshness that we found lovely and compelling. Talk to your monger (or wholesale contact) to find out exactly when the switchover will happen. 

Gwyn Mawr, coming in November. A guest cheese in the shops for November and early December, made by Harriet Cooke of Ffynnon Wen in Wales. Harriet farms her own small flock and makes both a bloomy-rinded soft cheese and this slightly sharp, densely-textured hard one on site. As with Emily, the thing Harriet hasn't got is space to mature hard cheese with a natural rind, so we've turned over some of our shelves to caring for a couple of batches made at the height of summer. We'll tell you more when it’s ready. In the meantime, watch this space… 

One more thing, mostly for the chefs 

Herefordshire Frier, a squeaky sheep’s milk frying cheese made by Katie Cordle at her micro-dairy in the west of England, has found a great following in restaurant kitchens and amongst our retail customers, which we're delighted about. Every batch of it produces sheep's whey, and that whey becomes Long Lane Ricotta: a true sheep's ricotta, and a very good one, with a shelf life measured in days rather than weeks. We don't sell it in the shops, but if you cook professionally and sheep’s milk ricotta is of interest, please get in touch. 

Katie making Herefordshire Friar at her micro-dairy.