Cheesemaking a la Carly 101

I signed up for a cheesmaking class at this little bakery/ NY state wines store that I frequent. I love the owner - she runs a farmer's market in the summer months and she arranged the bus tour of all of the cheese farms that my son and I took about a week ago.


I had planned to blog about how much fun it is to make cheese and what I learned. Except...nothing ever goes according to my plans.

I have been slowly coming down with a sinus infection since Sunday. Tuesday morning I put a call into my doctor as soon as the office opened. He's notoriously hard to get in to see. Tell her to come at midnight, he joked to his receptionist. Ha, ... hah.

She suggested 5:45 pm. Well, the cheese class started at 5:30 and I was bringing my kids to that, and I swear to you, I never get in to see the doctor at the appointed time. You wait and wait for this guy. So I said, well, I have this class, but it's right near your office, until about 8, can I come afterward? She said yes, he will still be seeing patients by then (so why offer me 5:45? ...this was my point in countering the invite... ) and so I went to class.

Things were just getting going, and the class was interesting and we were just adding citric acid to milk, when my cell phone went off. Crappity crap crap. I should mention that I had a fever by then and was feeling stupid for dragging myself there and risking giving everyone else cooties.

So I slipped out to check the voicemail and it was "Uh, can you come now? We're done for the day". So I told the store owner I needed to go to the doctor for a few minutes - she looked really alarmed and said "do you need help?" and I felt like an even bigger idiot. No, just a prescription for a sinus infection, was the essence of my reply.

I should add that I did know one of the other attendees; her kids go to school with mine. So I wasn't TOTALLY abandoing them. Much. Well ok , but I was only gone half an hour.

So I went there and STILL WAITED 10 -15 minutes because someone came in for a flu shot before I got there. What. Ever.


But the reason I like my doctor is that he is very smart, and takes all the time that you need, (hence the backlog) and always offers just enough sympathy to seem like a decent human being who actually cares about his patients. The dismay in his voice when he said "oh wow, you have bronchitis too" made up in some tiny cosmic way for the nonsense and running around. Plus he gave me most of the meds I need. (All of those damn reps that also help to get the schedule so out of whack, they leave behind plenty of free samples, and he give them out as needed. So I got an inhaler and a nasal spray; two less prescriptions I have to fill)


Where was I ? Oh, right. Cheese. Cheese! Gotta get back there.


So, when I dragged myself back to class I'd been gone at least half an hour. In that time they warmed milk and put some citric acid in it. I'm not kidding.... that's all they did. There was a muttered remark to me that "this guy sure can talk". Um, it's a three hour class, people. What did you expect? The guy makes cheese all day, he gets lonely.

It did get fun because they were pouring in rennet when I got there and that's what makes milk (yes, regular milk with just a little acidity boost) turn to blobs of what looks like egg whites. You stare at it a while, then poke it with your finger, to see if it's solidifying. Well, unless you have a sinus infection and bronchitis. Then you don't touch it. People are funny about that.

After a few more minutes (of talking) then you more or less slice the milk into cubes, right there in the pot. The trick to "cubes" is the diagonal slicing. I'd have to show you. The people I was with were cool about letting my son do it, but he made the cubes way too big. Momma is too much of a perfectionist. But he was really enjoying himself.


Then the whey sort of leaches out from the cubes for a while. More talking. Interesting talking, but just lots of talking. Then you drain it - but carefully - if you dump it out like pasta it could turn back to milk. So you spoon it out into a colander a little bit at a time.

Now it was time for the guy to show off. You put - even a little blob - of the cheese into really hot water for a while, then you start kneading it pulling it like it's taffy. It looks nothing like mozzarella cheese, until all of a sudden, it does. Out of nowhere, it looked like ricotta but all of a sudden it's glossy and shiny and stretchy.

The really badass cheesemaker put his hand right into the scalding water to knead, while we soaked our cheesegoo blobs using slotted spoons and then worked them in our hands, saying "ow ow ow" like a bunch of daisies.

So, 2 1/2 hours later, you end up with fresh mozzarella. Nice. As I mentioned my lunch today was based off some of the cheese I made, some basil, some of the last tomatoes that are sprinkled on my plant, and some smoked sea salt (when I got the salt and showed it off saturday to my brother and also to Suzy's friend, they both went "ooooh" and I could just see them thinking "beef, yep, grilled, yep...") Simple things make us happy.

Did I mention that when I got home I could barely drag myself into the house? Note to stupid: don't overdo it. But then of course I made my kid brownies to bring to school for his birthday. It's a mix. No big deal.