I had never heard of queso fresco before coming to Spain, and I certainly didn’t think I would like it. I mean, it looks like this:
And, as the cardboard slip promises, when you pop it out of the plastic container, it maintains the ridges in a canned-cranberry-sauce kinda way. Not very appetizing.
My commute includes a twice-daily bus ride on a very windy road, and it has left me slightly queasy all week. Since most other food hasn’t seemed very appealing, open-faced queso fresco and turkey sandwiches have been my saving grace this week. As I said, they’re light and refreshing: inoffensive but still satisfying.
As for a stateside counterpart, it really feels silly to walk into an American grocery store and look for “fresh cheese,” but I’ve done it. I never came across any in my searches. There is a similar campesino cheese that is sold in Mexican groceries, but it’s too salty and is more like feta cheese than queso fresco. In short, I don’t think you can find the real deal anywhere but Spain. As such, I plan on milking it for all it’s worth while I can.