Making Cheese

Last weekend, my friend Matt came over and helped me make mozzarella.

I'll pause while you gasp in wonder and awe.

I've been wanting to try my hand at cheese making for a couple years. Ever since my brother-in-law brought a jar of mozzarella in herbed olive oil, actually. And when Tara shared some fresh, homemade cheese with a loaf of homemade bread, I was in such homemade heaven, I vowed to learn to make cheese so I too could live in homemade paradise.

Only one thing held me back.

Fear.

Okay, so not fear exactly.

More like confusion.

I just couldn't wrap my head around pH levels and temperatures and the timing of it all.

Cheese making is a fairly simple process in theory. In reality, it involves things like presses and molds and mold. There are brines and waxes and optimum temperatures. There's stretching and shaping and straining.

In fact, it's a lot like yoga.

I'll let you ponder that for a moment.

Enter Matt.

Apparently, he was able to wrap his head around it. I think it could be his background in home brewing. While I have substantial experience with canning, I don't usually need a thermometer gauge and a double boiler. So when he ventured to tentatively ask if I'd be interested in making cheese with him, the poor man had to jump backwards at my fervent and zealous, "YES!"

Now, if I was a good blogger, I'd tell you that our mozzarella came out perfect the first time. I'd show you pictures and sheepishly duck my head while writing about how, gosh, it was all so easy.

But I'm not a good blogger.

Our first batch did not turn out well.

At all.

In fact, we ended up with some sort of ricotta-like concoction.

But if at first you don't succeed...

You buy another gallon of milk and a better thermometer and find a different recipe.

And then you cross your fingers, drain the curd, and stretch, stretch, stretch...

 until you end up with delicious, creamy, mild-tasting mozzarella.

I can't wait to make it again.

And maybe soon, very soon, I'll be writing about...cheddar.