Demo Days and New Places to Find Us

After the heavy dose of production days in November, this month is weighted mostly toward affinage (taking care of the cheese as it ripens) and marketing.

Each Friday and Saturday of December I've been out to one of our vendors for demonstrations, wrapping up this weekend. First was Surdyk's and the Saint Peter Co-op, and last weekend was The Wedge and Lakewinds in Chanhassen and Minnetonka. This Friday I'll be at the Linden Hills Co-op from three-to-six, and Seward Co-op Saturday from 11-2.

I really relish the demo sessions. First, I get immediate feedback from a large cross-section of tasters, and, almost as important, I'm able to visit with the cheesemongers who have had a huge bearing on our success. I am so impressed with the passion and dedication of those attracted to selling fine cheese.

Without a doubt, my fondest and longest-lived remembrances of this month's sampling will surely be the days when Alex joined me. The past two Saturdays, she volunteered to come along and help. A self-described "drama nerd", it took her all of a minute to commit our spiel to memory.

On both days, I would venture off to explore the store from time to time, and, invariably, upon my return, our cheese for sale was a piece or two lighter. Looks like the girl's a natural.

In addition to Lakewinds, you can also now find Bent River in Le Sueur at the Friendly Confines Cheese Shoppe, at Harbo Cider between Mankato and Lake Crystal (next to Welsh Heritage Farms), and coming soon to Cub Foods West, right here in Mankato. In fact, I've just confirmed a sampling session there Thursday the 24th from one-to-three.

Also, Birchwood Cafe in the Seward neighborhood of Minneapolis has added our cheese to their rotational menu. I've not yet eaten there, but the menu, which changes weekly, looks fantastic.

Chapter Two: Snow Day

They cancelled school today, which means, in Minnesota, there is serious weather.

I was planning to go to the dairy this morning. Normally, I like to test the nasty conditions, and press on regardless, but I woke from a startling dream of the truck getting blown off the road. I'm not much for superstition, but with the winds blowing as hard as they were, and never having tested the aerodynamic limits of "ol' red", I decided to pack it in. I just received more cheese molds, so I can make a "monster" batch on Monday to catch up.

Now, back to a cheesemaker's day in the life.

Once I'm loaded with milk, it's a ginger bit of driving back to the plant. We have a garage attached to the building, so I back in close to the door and set up the pump to drain the milk into the cheese vat. The vat holds 200 gallons of milk, and I've never had it more than one-half full. Monday will be a three-quarters batch, and it will thrill me a bit to see the vat coming close to capacity.

I fire up the water heater that pumps hot water to the outer jackets of the vat for pasteurization. I seal the vat, hooking up the air space unit and thermometers that ensure proper procedure, and start the milk paddle that gently stirs the milk as it warms.

It takes a bit over an hour to get the temperature over 145 degrees. At this point, I hold the milk above 145 for a minimum of 30 minutes. I usually let it go five minutes over to be certain.

After pasteurization is complete, the cover comes off the vat and I get a free moisturizing facial from the steam. The milk is then cooled down to 88 degrees (with the aid of cold water now coursing through the vat jackets). We are now ready for inoculation. I add a cocktail of cultures and enzymes that give the cheese its character, and slowly let the mixture ripen for an hour. Many, certainly the behemoth cheese operations, shorten or bypass this step, but I believe it allows everything to marry well, and adds depth to the flavor.

After ripening, the rennet is introduced. Rennet is a strange and wonderful thing; it turns milk into cheese. Originally (and currently) found in the stomach lining of a calf, kid or lamb, it chemically alters the milk, allowing casein to bind together with the fat globules and render curd. After a time, which varies from batch to batch, the curd is "set", and fully separated from the whey. There are plants that can also achieve the renneting process, and the stuff I use is vegetarian. It has been concentrated down to a viscus brown liquid, and, try as I might, I haven't developed a liking for it's smell. I can't even begin to describe the aroma much less develop a fondness for it, but I'm working on it.

Once the curd has fully set, it's time to cut. My vat has a set of three knife attachments that cut the curd in a matter of minutes. I have to be careful not to overdo any of these steps where paddles or knives rotate in the vat: for whatever reason, it lulls me and I can get lost in time.

Once cut, the curd is allowed to rest for a few minutes. Then a gentle stirring takes place, followed by another rest. I then drain off about 10-15 percent of the whey.

Soft rind cheese like Camembert is made with block molds that have a series of small, uniform holes that allow the whey to drain off by gravity. I also set an extender mold on top of the block mold so there is enough curd to ensure a proper piece of cheese.

It takes twenty to thirty minutes of hard labor to scoop the curd and whey mixture from the vat into the molds. My tradition is to find a good playlist of music and go at it. Along with the physical exertion, I also have to pay attention to each mold to ensure as much uniformity as possible.

Once complete, clean-up begins. I should also mention that, though there is some down time during the ripening and rennet stages, there is always something to clean, test, or set up; time goes by quickly.

Cleaning and sterilization is as much a part of cheesemaking as any other component, and not to be trifled with. One missed step and you're headed full-steam for trouble of one sort or another, so it gets the attention it deserves.

After I've cleaned, it's home for dinner and a bit of a rest-up. Four to six hours later, I come back in to turn the cheese over. This keeps the moisture content of the cheese stable as it completes the draining phase. After a bit more cleaning, the cheese is covered and allowed to drain overnight in the warm make room.

I've glossed over the testing that must occur throughout the make process, but, at least for my cheese, the most important gauge is pH. I have a really handy pH meter that guides me throughout the make, and there is a window of target pH's that I need to hit to get everything right. In other words, the cheese will tell you when it's ready. Most days, it's ready around six the next morning.

I'm probably most alert and lucid in the early morning, so this stage is somehow comforting and peaceful for me. I demold the cheese from each block. Coarse sea salt is then applied by hand to each piece. Once salted, the cheese goes on to racks and heads for the aging room, a humid walk-in box set at 53 degrees, ideal for aging Camembert. The final clean up commences.

It's a full day from start-to-finish. As mentioned, I've done one back-to-back make, and I'll avoid that going forward wherever I can. When complete, I feel a palpable sense of having done something of worth, and a satisfying ache in my middle-aged bones. As I write this, I'm starting to feel a little cheated I didn't get to make cheese today, but I'll get over it. There will be plenty more chances ahead.

Up From the Depths: Chapter One

What a month. My last post, over a month ago, ended, "Head down now, into 'holiday' mode", and that is precisely what occurred.

I made more cheese, by a fair margin, than I've ever made before. One week, to shoehorn family obligations into the mix, I made two large batches on subsequent days. I've promised somewhere along the way to explain a day-in-the-life of a cheesemaker, so here we go.

Almost to the minute, Jim and Kat are done milking at Cedar Summit at nine-thirty a.m. They have been hard at it since five at the latest, and I am in constant awe of their good nature each time I show up. They have always treated me with a small sense of bemusement and a large dose of tolerance, especially the first few visits when I appeared to be fighting a losing battle against the pump hoses.

I drop Alex and Mari off at school, and by the time I reach the "plant" (still seems silly to call my tiny space that), it is just before eight. I prep the place for the day ahead, load up the truck, and I'm off around eight-thirty. The farm is a bit over forty miles away, but I'm motoring in "ol' red", our 1987 Ford F250, not the swiftest of steeds. I generally listen to NPR on the radio from the one good speaker that drifts in and out. To date, I've made the trek 34 times, and I still get butterflies somewhere along the way, usually for no good reason. Do I have enough gas (the gauge is suspect)? Have I brought everything I need (forgot the dread pump hoses--game over, once)? Can I make my way through St. Peter and it's Byzantine detour system?

All in all, it's an enjoyable ride. I get to think a bit on the road--sometimes a good thought comes and I end up calling the office line to leave a message as not to forget.

Once I've reached the farm, I wind down the path to the milking barn, and I never fail to get that smile of the interloper who doesn't work on the farm, but loves the sights, sounds, and, yes, smells. Chickens on the loose. The lowing of the cows. The dogs who love me 'cause I inevitably spill enough milk for a snack. The undeniable, everpresent waft of cowshit.

I back the truck up to the barn, and begin getting the pump and hoses connected. Measuring the tank, noting carefully each notch on the bar that means anywhere from 15 to 25 pounds of milk (a gallon weighs generally 8.7 pounds, give-or-take for fat content). Once I've got it all measured and hooked up, the pumping begins. It takes around ten-to-fifteen minutes to get my fill, which means 600-1000 pounds of milk. On occasion, it should be noted, I lose track of something and end up with more milk than I'd bargained for. I try my best, but I'm easily distracted. Kat may be partially guilty, because often she'll get going on the most important thing ever, and I get sucked in. A few weeks ago, she bought her first house--you can't stop that story, can you?

Dave Minar as often as not, is somewhere in the vicinity, and he'll stop to say hi. At the risk of offending the current Minar progeny, I have always felt a certain parental bond with Dave and Florence, and I'm quite sure that this is not a unique occurrence. They have created, with their family and all the great people that contribute, a special place, a place of nurturing on several levels, though they'd probably never admit to it outright. But, from the day I sat at their kitchen table almost a year ago, I've had the sense that they were in my corner, provided I wasn't a half-assed pretender.

This is the first week where I have had enough free time to think about writing. I'm glad I've gotten something down, but we're far from the end of my cheesemaking story, and I hear the pillow calling. We'll pick up soon...

More Cheese & More Places to Find it

From what I understand, the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years Day will be our busiest time of the year, so I'm in the midst of ramping up production to meet demand.

And, speaking of demand, there are some new places to find our cheese.

Pairings Food and Wine in Minnetonka & Grass Roots Gourmet in Minneapolis are our newest vendors. Pairings is a beautiful space housing a cafe/market alongside a well-thought-out wine area. You'll find Grass Roots Gourmet in the Midtown Global Market--a place that has long been on my list to visit. Rows and rows of stores stocking items from around the world...now that I've seen it in person, I can't wait to go back for a few hours of strolling, tasting, and shopping. Vicki, the proprietor of Grass Roots, was a joy to meet and such an obviously dedicated proponent of local and sustainable food.

Also, Lucia's Restaurant and Cafe has started serving Bent River. Some posts back, you might recall Alemar Cheese was part of a lunch honoring Lucia. A few days later I received a lovely thank you note from Lucia, and she asked if she could carry our cheese. Of course we are honored to be a part of this great Minnesota institution!

Head down now, into "holiday" mode. Have a great week...

Crying Over Spilt Milk

I did not really cry, except inside. But, I did spill a lot of milk: 100 gallons to be precise.

Yesterday started like any normal cheesemaking day; to the dairy and back, then pumping the milk into my vat. And then something abnormal happened.

I gently pasteurize my milk. By law, any cheese that goes to market before sixty days must be pasteurized. I use a "tankless" water heater to run very hot water through two "jackets" inside the vat, which brings the milk slowly to 145 degrees. Then the milk is held at this temperature for a minimum of 30 minutes. Viola, pasteurized milk.

The heater is a really cool machine. It heats water almost immediately to the desired temperature, and it is rigged up to recycle the water that flows through the vat. So, not only is it very energy efficient, it cuts down on water use.

Only, yesterday, I pressed the on button, and nothing happened. From my years in the baking business, I am used to equipment failure. I have also found that with the proper amount of determination and ingenuity, there is almost always a solution, a quick fix.

Almost always. I went through a routine of going through the troubleshooting guide in the equipment manual, then called in our electrician and ultimately, Jeremy, the plumber who installed the heater. We had power, and everything was operation except for the keypad.

Jeremy called technical support at the manufacturer, and after going through a set of instructions, was asked to take the keypad apart. As he did so, a few drops of water began to seep out. This, it turns out, is not normal.

What to do next? Tech man explained that you can bypass the display unit and keep the heater operational. Good news! I sealed the vat and began heating the milk. Jeremy left with my OK to order another display unit.

As I watched the vat, I could tell something was amiss. The milk was not heating as quickly as usual, and when I felt the intake water line, it was obvious that the water going in was not as hot as usual. So, I called back technical support, and learned that while it is possible to bypass the control unit as we had done, there is an internal wiring system that prevents the water from going above 140 degrees. It should come as no surprise that 140 degree water will not heat milk to 145 degrees.

I searched my mind for a solution. I called all the plumbing supply outfits within a 75 mile radius that might stock the part. I called a company in town that specializes in control units. I tried to tap my inner McGuyver, but nothing would come.

I obviously lost some money, but that was a minor irritant. It was truly heart-wrenching to drain the milk out of the vat. I had exhausted every option I could think of, and there was nothing I could do. I called my good friend Craig, and we had a laugh at the idea of me taking a bath in the vat. For the record, I did not take a bath in the vat.

All night last night, I had flashes of frustration welling up from inside. Where the hell had that water come from? Did I do everything I could? It was a pointless exercise, but knowing that made it no easier.

Jeremy came back today and installed the new control unit. He mounted it in a different spot, far from any source of water. Maybe I should get another unit for backup.

I hope writing this down will exorcise any lingering demons I may have, and, of course, this is a minor setback that will not affect much in the long run.

Mankato Free Press cover story

We've been getting some attention lately, all of it welcomed. This article appeared in the Mankato Free Press today.

Here's some of the text - the full story about Alemar Cheese company in Mankato is here at the Mankato Free Press website.

Getting it right when making fresh cheese is a combination of art and science.

Keith Adams works with precision inside a small production facility in Mankato’s Old Town as he tries to perfect the Camembert-style soft cheese he began making last spring under the Bent River brand name.

He heats the organic milk to precise temperatures to pasteurize it, allows it to sit for the specified time to separate the curds and whey and reach the proper pH levels, and he moves quickly at the right moment to remove the blend from a large vat, using stainless steel pails, to pour it into round molds and begin the aging process.

“It took me a while to get the recipe and formula correct. It’s part of the journey, I guess, but it was frustrating,” Adams said.

His new venture, Alemar Cheese, is meeting with success where it counts — the cheese buyers and upper-end restaurants who are adding his cheese to their menus.
As co-owner of the former Bagel Bros. bagel shops, Adams’ new business brings him back to two things he desires: Being his own boss and working with food.
Alemar is a blend of the names of his teen daughters, Alex and Mari, and the Bent River brand of his first cheese is in reference to the famed bend in the Minnesota River at Mankato.

Camembert cheese is one of the most famous of French soft cheeses. The thick, gooey cheese is popular on bread and paired with fruit. While it needs to be refrigerated to be stored, it tastes best served at room temperature.

Adams made a about a dozen batches of cheese before he felt he got it right and began shopping samples around. St. Peter Food Co-op is so far the only area outlet for the Bent River cheese. He’s also selling it at several co-ops and some restaurants in the Twin Cities area.

Mike Phillips, chef/owner of The Craftsman restaurant in Minneapolis, sampled Bent River and added it to his cheese menu, which rotates between 15 and 20 cheeses during the year.

“It’s really good, but it’s also getting better all the time,” Phillips said. “Like anything with food or cheeses, results aren’t real quick. It takes some time to perfect it.”
Phillips said that while he gets cheeses from the vaunted cheese-making state of Wisconsin, Minnesota cheese production is growing. “There’s quite a bit in Minnesota. We’re seeing a good increase of really good, quality cheese.”

Adams gets organic milk — 1,000 gallons per batch, which makes about 130 pounds of cheese — from Cedar Summit Farm in New Prague.
The process of making and aging the cheese is four to five weeks. The fresh cheese has a shelf-life of up to a month after that.

Soft, fresh cheeses have a higher moisture content, while moisture is forced out of hard cheeses, giving them a long shelf life.

After the Bagel Bros. bagel shops Adams helped run closed in 2005, he worked in sales at Coughlan Publishing for three years, something he described as a good job, “But as far as gratification, it left me lacking. I had this feeling to do something I felt a passion for.

“I really enjoyed the food side of the (bagel) business and being my own boss came naturally to me.”

A California native, Adams considered wine making, something some of his friends there do. “But the startup cost to make wine in Minnesota is huge. I thought cheese making is something similar.”

He studied cheese-making intently and attended the American Cheese Society conference where he met a California cheese-maker who agreed to mentor him.

He drew up his business plan and began raising seed money last fall. He found a small building on North Riverfront Drive, a former Domino’s Pizza store, that had the infrastructure for food production. After renovations, he began producing his first cheeses in April.

“I think I broke even last week for the first time.”

For now, he wants to concentrate on producing good product for his current customers, but plans to add a new cheese variety each of the next four or five years.
Adams expects his cheese will be available at a Mankato outlet in the near future.

He will sell the cheese via his Web site — www.alemarcheese.com — in the future. The cheese retails for about $21 per pound.

Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.

Alemar Cheese Write Up in Star Tribune

Note: This is a guest post by Mike Nolan - a re-print from the Ask Better Questions Blog.

My friend Keith Adams started a small, organic artisan cheese company this year.

I remember the day he broke the news to my wife and I that he wanted to make cheese. It was over a glass of wine, in my kitchen, about a year ago. My first reaction? Well, as a guy who has been on the money side of many a start-up, I was less than optimistic. For about a minute.

It only took 60 seconds for me to see the passion.

He needed to be an artisan - he needed to have a passionate living.

He shared the elevator pitch - his market research - his plan to mentor with the best in the business - his plan on education, financing and marketing.

He shared his passion.

Today the Minnesota Star Tribune ran a glowing article about his cheese. And this was not the result of some big PR effort, but instead the writer found his cheese at a local co-op, and was hooked.

Here's an excerpt, and a link to the great story about Alemar Cheese Company's Bent River Cheese

Keith Adams is apparently unaware of F. Scott Fitzgerald's maxim that there are no second acts in American lives. A few years ago, the Mankato resident was co-owner of a small chain of bagel shops. Today he's one of the region's up-and-coming cheesemakers.

Although production only began in April, Adams' Camembert-style cheese, which he markets under the name Bent River, is causing something of a sensation among local cheeseheads. "I'm impressed," said Alex Roberts, chef/owner of Restaurant Alma in Minneapolis. "I've never encountered another local cheese like it, and I'm glad we're serving it. It has great character, and I'm interested in watching how it develops."

That makes two of us. This lusciously ripe and creamy cheese is an exceptional effort for a freshman cheesemaker ("Every time I get a compliment I sort of blush," Adams said). Adams is taking a hands-on approach to his new vocation, absorbing knowledge from mentors and learning through all kinds of good old-fashioned trial and error. "Let me put it this way," he said. "I'm currently on production No. 23. I think batch No. 12 was the first one to pass muster. It's a tricky cheese, so it's probably good that I didn't know that when I was starting out, because it would have been too daunting. Ignorance really is bliss."

Adams calls his enterprise the Alemar Cheese Co., an amalgam of his two teenage daughters' names, Alex and Mari. "Camembert-style" sounds glamorous, but Adams' work environment is about as far from the Normandy countryside as a cheesemaker can get. He labors inside a cinder block building in downtown Mankato, a former pizza production facility that's just a few steps from where the Minnesota River takes a pronounced turn, hence the name Bent River.

Milk comes courtesy of cows grazing at the Minar family's Cedar Summit Farm in New Prague, a gold standard among Minnesota farmstead dairies. "You can't make great cheese without great milk," said Adams. "Not that I claim to be a master cheesemaker by any stretch, but I'm bound and determined to get there. That's the equation of life, isn't it? Being happy, and doing something that you love."

RICK NELSON

Bent River cheese (about $21 per pound, www.alemarcheese.com) is available at Seward Co-op, Wedge Co-op, Eastside Co-op, Surdyk's and Premier Cheese Market in Minneapolis, Mississippi Market and Whole Foods in St. Paul, and Twin Cities-area Kowalski's Markets. It's also featured at the Craftsman, Restaurant Alma and Vincent in Minneapolis.

People's Choice and a Late Addition

I found out on Monday that our cheese was voted the number one pairing with the St. John Reserve wine from Morgan Creek, site of the annual Great Grape Stomp. I'm sure being the most local of the region's cheesemakers present didn't hurt. What a nice honor from the good people of the St. Peter Co-op.

Also, I will be at Surdyk's this Friday from 4:30 to 7 p.m., sampling during their annual wine sale--they have a huge selection, and prices are never better.

Goings On

I will be at the "Say Cheese" event at The Great Grape Stomp at Morgan Creek Vineyards in Cambria this afternoon. Not the greatest weather today, but a little wine might help.

Look for an article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune Taste section this Thursday.

On Friday, our cheese will be a part of an event honoring Lucia Watson of Lucia's in Minneapolis. The event is being held at Windows on Minnesota on the 50th floor of the IDS Tower.

Finally, I'll be sampling cheese this coming Saturday, October 10th at the Eastside Co-op on Central Avenue in Northeast Minneapolis.

Perhaps we'll cross paths somewhere along the way. Be sure to say hello if so.

Alemar Cheese on Cities 97

Today Alemar's Bent River cheese was featured on Cities 97 Morning Show.

I'd like to thank BT and the rest of the morning show, and of course the "Cheese Goddess" Elle-Tee. It was great fun.

We've received a few great mentions recently...

First a surprise feature on KSTP's Twin Cities Live (about 3 minutes into the video);

Then, a great feature by fellow blogger and New Ulm Journal Food columnist Wendy Monro;

http://yovia.com/blogs/simplyfood/2009/09/22/alemar-cheese-company/

Also, we will be doing tastings at Surdyk's Friday night from 4-7, and on Saturday at Seward Co-op from 2:30-5:30--both are in Minneapolis...please stop by and say hello.

Twin Cities Live

By complete surprise, Alemar's Bent River cheese was featured on Twin Cities Live today.

About 3:00 into the "Top Picks" section.

Rob & Chris

I spent a memorable Saturday afternoon in the upper Napa Valley with my good friends, Chris Dearden and Rob Hunter. Due to occupational and familial duties, they were unable to make it to Stryker, so, with no small sense of satisfaction, I tooled off to St. Helena in the Stryker S-10 (feeling slightly cool because I might be mistaken for a local) to see my old buddies.

Chris met me at Benessere Vineyards, his home base. Just North of St. Helena, Benessere has the distinction of being one of the few wineries in the Valley that concentrates on Italian varietals. They make, by the estimation of more than a few critics, the finest Pinot Grigio in California. For me, and I think, Chris, their flagship stuff is the Sangiovese. They've been making it since 1995, and it has always been a favorite of mine: great fruit and a pronounced, peppery finish. We had a few minutes (I love when busy people make you feel like time is frozen, and there is nothing pressing), and had a chance to catch up. We made a quick tour of the grounds, tasted some incredible wine, laughed a lot, and then, sadly, Chris was corralled and off to a table of patrons demanding his attention. Chris also consults with a number of wineries and is a partner at Chanticleer Wines...look them up.

Rob Hunter has a reputation that precedes him, and I say that with no small amount of conviction. He helped make Merlot (pre-Sideways, and ridiculously maligned) a star at Markham, and, as Head Winemaker at Sterling, brought a flagging giant to new heights.

He now has his own label, Hunter III, and is also the winemaker at Bennett Lane in Calistoga. His dad, Bob, has a vineyard in Sonoma that produces primarily sparkling wine under the label--ready? Robert Hunter, which Rob oversees.

Does it seem like I have a bit of pride in my friends? Guilty, with cause.

Rob and his daughter Haley met me at the Silverado Brewing Company in St. Helena for a late lunch. I ordered a double order of the shell-on spicy shrimp appetizer, and the Hunter's had ribs. Note the absence of photos. We had, as usual, a great time catching up, and, as the proud father of two now-not-so-young ladies, admired Haley's manners and grace.

After a great Hunter hug, I made my way back to the Alexander Valley. To get there, you must log about a ten-mile drive through Knights Valley, the unspoiled gem of the wine country. Drive it whenever you can. You'll thank me later.

Back

This is the view from Craig's deck looking West from Stryker Sonoma. The treeline in the mid-horizon is the Russian River, with the Coast Range in the background. One could get used to it.

What a great weekend. I ate amazingly well--highlights include dinner at Diavola (real Napolitano pizza from a wood-fired oven), lunch at Willi's in Healdsburg (outstanding seafood--tuna tartare, oysters, and an incredible piece of halibut), and a home cooked meal from the Colorado house guests next door (most notably, a sweet potato dish with habanero peppers--a sublime blend of sweet and spicy).

Naturally, there was an abundance of wine. Craig's colleagues, Tim Hardin, winemaker, and Jenn Berman, oenologist and assistant winemaker, were present when duty didn't call. I know it's work, especially now, with harvest in full effect, but, man, the geographic phenomenon that comprises the Northern California wine country is so spectacular, it makes one stop, and breathe, and for that moment, be grateful to be alive.

As for the cheese tasting, it turned out to be a wheel a night proposition. The good news was that each night, the cheese was well received, and consumed. Lots of compliments from folks who know food.

Buffy, Otis, Adrien, Graham, Bill, the two Michael's, Brian, Ashley, Kathleen, and I'm sure I'm leaving someone essential out--the Stryker family is a lovely group of people--thanks so much for your hospitality. If you are able, stop by Stryker. The wines are fantastic, the views breathtaking, and the people, wonderful. I dare you not to envy, but you'll let it go in a heartbeat, because good wins here.

Craig was the greatest host. When you have the sort of history we do, you pick up right where you left off, and with the benefit of age, the most major disagreement becomes such a minor pest, it falls away like an inconvenient piece of lint.

I'm going to finish here and go on to another post because I can't figure out how to post more than one picture at a time and not mess everything up...so next to:

California, Here I come.

Due to my good fortune in the friend department, I'm on my way to Sonoma County.

Craig MacDonald, General Manager & Partner at Stryker Sonoma, made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Said offer entailed a free airplane ride and a bed for the weekend. And, let's not forget, the wine closet, a beautiful, double wide unit stocked with an exceptional array of bottles...this provided you're too lazy to walk down to the winery, which can happen after midnight.

Craig and I met in 9th grade, Fall of 1976. Let your mind go for a moment and think of two svelte young men with longish hair and a penchant for skateboarding. I know, it's preposterous. Here we are 30+ years later, considerably thicker in the middle, yet still thick as thieves.

I've shipped out a "flight" of three different cheeses (by production date), and we are going to do our best to find a suitable beverage. Chris Dearden and Rob Hunter (see late July post) have promised to show, so we won't be lacking for palates.

My Mankato family, otherwise known as the Nolan's, are watching over my cheese this weekend. Jules stopped by yesterday for a brief primer--she says the batches she shepherds over will be the best of all--and why should I doubt her?

Finally, a giant welcome to Greg Herring, my former college roommate and constant source of good will, to the small and decidedly exclusive gang of Alemar partners. My main goal, besides making a living, is to amass my dream board of directors, and I've pretty much done it. Except, of course, for me (see Marx, Groucho).

Time Flies

With some degree of shock I look at this blog and realize it's been a month since I posted anything. Lots has happened, so I guess it's time to catch up.

Sales have continued to blossom. We are on the shelf at Surdyk's, The Wedge Co-op, Premier Cheese, The Craftsman and Restaurant Alma in Minneapolis. We are also available at the Cedar Summit Creamery, and if you have a chance to visit, it's worth the time to make your way to New Prague. The Minar's sell not only their amazing line of dairy offerings, beef and pork, but goods from other local producers as well. Sales continue to hum at the St. Peter Food Co-op, and we've just been invited to be a part of the "Say Cheese" event at the Annual Great Grape Stomp at Morgan Creek Vinyards in Cambria Saturday, October 3rd. The event draws in the neighborhood of 3,000 people, so it should be a great opportunity to spread the word.

I'll be delivering to the Seward and Eastside Co-ops this Friday, and will be visiting most of the other Co-ops in the Twin Cities that same day. I will also be at Surdyk's on Friday, September 25th from four-to-seven sampling as part of their annual cheese sale. 40 cheeses including ours will be 20% off for the duration of the sale, which runs from the 17th through the 26th.

Checks have started to trickle in from vendors, and I admit to a small sense of glee endorsing them and dropping them at the bank.

Perhaps the nicest part of this month has been a handful of emails from people I've never met, who have taken the time to let me know they are fans of Alemar Cheese. It's sometimes easy to think of myself as an island, but now I'm realizing I'm more like a tiny but growing tree with a few more branches sprouting each week. So much for the similes.

The cheesemaking process continues to be a great source of wonder and satisfaction. Besides becoming more proficient with each make, I'm really focusing on how the cheese ages. I'm trying to find the best techniques necessary to extend the life of the cheese for our vendors. This is primarily a question of when to move the cheese from our aging room to refrigeration, and with a bit of coaching and experimentation, I hope to have this nailed down soon.

Have a great day, and thanks for stopping by.

Phase Four

The past few days have brought about, I think, the fourth stage of Alemar Cheese. Stage one was the idea that popped into my head in the last days of 2007, and began to increasingly occupy my thoughts, that it was time to strike out on my own again. If I haven't confessed it yet, I'll gladly do it now.

I have a number of friends in California who make wine for a living, notably Chris Dearden (an Alemar partner) from Benessere Vinyards, Craig MacDonald from Stryker Sonoma, and Rob Hunter of Bennett Lane & Hunter Three (Chris & Rob consult and are partners in too many ventures to name). My Dad, Bill, was the cross country coach at UC Davis of numerous winemakers, including Nils Venge, Mike McGrath, and Rob Davis, all of whom are now elder statesmen of California winemaking. I have had the pleasure of watching them all lead an enviable life of passion and, let's face it, sanguinity.

Though wine is a growth industry in Minnesota, and in fact, one of my investor partners, Kent Schwickert, is now the lead proprietor of Chankaska Creek Winery just outside of town, I felt like I had neither the resources nor training to pursue a life in wine. But what else could I do to feed my desire to live some sort of similar lifestyle?

Well, there is plenty of milk in Minnesota, and cheese has always been a comfort and inspiration. I will forever remember searching Amazon in the waning days of 2007, looking for a book that would educate and inspire. Enter "American Farmstead Cheese" by Paul Kindstedt. I read it, cover-to-cover, in a matter of days. Most of it was far too technical for my amateur mind, but it gave me hope that I might just be on the right path.

Opportunity, or desperation, or more to the point, both, came next. I left my comfortable sales job, with benefits and stability, for a start up job offering more upside and, at least the promise of autonomy. I'll save the gory details for later, but in short order, the new job evaporated.

On to phase two: plotting, planning, learning, and making connections--broaching the subject with longtime friends (the hands-down most excruciating part) of potential investment; writing a business plan, reading, taking a class, becoming somewhat knowledgeable.

Once funded, phase two continued. Ordering equipment, finding a space, and continuing my education proved a daunting yet heady challenge. You can't fail if you haven't done anything yet.

Now, after many months of putting things in place, I had to actually make cheese, phase three. The good news was that I truly enjoyed the routine and pace of what I was doing. Having observed my winemaking friends at work, I could see the similarities and pleasures of the labor. I slept better than I have in a long time after a hard day of cheesemaking. I have mentioned in previous posts my anxiety towards waiting for results. Five weeks? Unleash the hounds of neurosis. If they had tests for ADHD back in the day, I'm sure I'd be on some form of medication now.

Eventually, I found what I was looking for. The cheese was not only good, but by trial and error, consistent. I will always strive to get better, but I'd found a certain level of competence.

Which brings us to phase four. Mankato, mysteriously, has never been able to support a co-op for any duration. Our much smaller neighbor to the North, St. Peter, has had a thriving co-op for decades. Much credit goes to Margo, the driving force behind it.

On Wednesday, as I was headed to Cedar Summit for milk, I stopped off at the co-op and left a wheel of cheese. Having been in sales for much of my life, I know that you have to make the effort to secure a sale--the buyer has the leverage, and it's incumbent on the seller to ask for the order.

To this point, the only messages on our voice mail at work have been telemarket related. But, last afternoon, Jim, the cheese buyer at the co-op left me a message asking for a call back with the likelihood of a sale. I missed him, but tried him again early this morning. A short time later, Jim returned the call. He asked if I could bring over a dozen wheels when time permitted. I mentioned that I was headed to the Cities on sales calls and could drop them by in a few hours. A chorus of Angels might have sung; I was a bit distracted at the time.

It is vital to note that the St. Peter co-op was, in fact, Alemar Cheese's second sale. Tom Cook, now of Kansas City, has had a standing order for months now. Tom, your status as customer number one is secure.

I spent the rest of the day dropping samples off to cheese shops, the two Whole Foods Markets in Minneapolis/St. Paul, and a number of restaurants that focus on local and sustainable foods. To a person, they were gracious and welcoming. I took pictures, and will post them when someone shows me how.

I'm guessing phase five is the part where we go from spending money to making some. Profit is not a bad word. It's the only way a business survives.

In keeping, I hope, with a healthy dose of humility, remind me later to tell you the story of shipping cheese to my partners, friends and family out West. Like I said, I'll tell you later.

Batch #12

Well, at least it appears that the waiting is over. And forgive my lack of posts, but anything prior to this would have been equal measures optimism and anxiety. Not pleasant reading.

This past Sunday, I had a half-size wheel of cheese, produced on June 17th, that had sufficiently ripened for tasting. At a small gathering of friends, I unwrapped the cheese and let them have at. One bite for me, and I knew it: this was right. I guess that will be the answer from now on--if it doesn't feel spot on, it probably isn't. My friends, some of whom are avowed non-connoisseurs, were very pleased with the taste. So the cheese was accessible, yet for me also held characteristics of depth. Hurray.

Additionally, I sent a number of batch samples to Margaret Morris, my equipment supplier at Glengarry Cheesemaking, an acknowledged guru of cheese and author of "The Cheesemaker's Manual". She singled out "batch 12" as the winner by a mile. Sweet confirmation.

Now batch 12 is resting in refrigeration, waiting to be shipped to my investor partners, advisers, family and friends. And I'll be spending a busy day in the Twin Cities dropping samples to every cheese shop that will let me in their door.

Lots and lots of work to do, but a corner may have been turned.

The waiting is the hardest part

Tom Petty, I couldn't agree more. I know I've got a streak of impatience, so waiting and wondering how a batch will turn out has occasionally gotten the better of me. Things appear to be correct, but there are lots of variables that I have to track to know what, in retrospect, I've done right or wrong. The most important thing, and I try to focus on it as much as I can, is that my competence and understanding of the process improves daily. But, oy, the waiting...

Progress

Things have been moving along in a generally positive way over the past few weeks. That's not to say that everything has gone perfectly.

I continue to love the work. My main concern right now is getting the make formula just right and consistent. Next, I'm focusing on finding a home for the cheese. The retailers I've spoken with have been terrific--I'd like to single out Claire Thomas at Surdyk's Cheese Shop in Minneapolis for her detailed tasting notes. This weekend I'm going up to visit Scott from Great Ciao, a local distributor of fine foods and a cheesemaker in his own right. He has a farm about an hour's drive from me--should be a fine time, and I'll be sure to post on how it goes.

Working alone, on balance, has been wonderful. I can tune the radio or Ipod to whatever suits my mood, and no one is there to distract me from whatever it is I'm doing. Still, there are moments when I feel an onset of cabin fever. Self-doubt can creep up on me, and I don't have a trusted ally to lean on. Here I fall back on the notion that this is a journey, a process, an adventure. And that works...most of the time.

Breaking Radio Silence

Please forgive me for such a lengthy pause since my last post.

I've been on a fairly predictable schedule for the past month, and each week gets a little more manageable time wise. The joy in doing this for a living has not fallen off a bit.

As the cheese got closer to ripeness, however, the fear demons began to get the better of me. I did my best to keep expectations low, but with so much time and energy invested, naturally I wanted good results and acceptance.

I tasted the first batch by myself on Wednesday. I bought some crackers and a few granny smith apples, then climbed the stairs to my apartment with equal measures of excitement and dread. The moment of truth had arrived.

Only, in a way, it hadn't. The cheese, to me, tasted delicious. I knew the smell, texture and appearance were on, and the aftertaste lingered forever, another good sign. But my objectivity was completely suspect. You might as well have asked me if I think my daughters are beautiful. This brought on a flurry of anxiety. I called a few friends to "talk me down" (thanks, by the way, Mike, Bud & Art).

I couldn't stop thinking about the taste throughout Thursday. That night, I had more cheese, this time with a serviceable Merlot. Again, a pleasant experience. I found myself wanting more, which I took as a good sign, but, still the nerves jangled.

On Friday, I brought some cheese over to my friends Jules and Mike. Jules has a palate I trust, so on pins and needles I unwrapped a ripe round of Bent River.

She tasted carefully, and pronounced the cheese very good. This brought me relief and pleasure. I was ready for the next step, having a professional cheese buyer sample my wares.

So, on Saturday, I herded Alex and Mari into the car with a cooler full of cheese, Minneapolis bound. We visited Surdyck's and Premier Cheese. Ken Liss, the proprietor of Premier wasted no time cutting into a round. He deliberated for what seemed an hour before pronouncing the cheese "fresh and good". He was enthusiastic enough to invite me up for a cheesemaker event sometime in the future. The girls and I left the shop heady and full of smiles. We celebrated with a nice lunch across the street at the Edina Grill, basking in the sun on more than one level.

The final hurrah came this morning as I stopped at Cedar Summit to pick up milk for todays make. I sauntered up to the Minar's door, and Florence met me before I had a chance to knock. I passed over a few rounds of cheese and asked for her feedback when she had a chance. She mentioned that a friend from Italy and a chef were over, and they were excited to try the cheese. Gulp.

As I was pumping the milk into my vat, Dave came out of nowhere with a grin, punched me in the shoulder and said "You hit it!"; he had some of the cheese sliced up and passed it out to Cat and Jim, his co-workers. He said everyone in the house loved the cheese. I told him "You can't make great cheese without great milk", and we nodded one another a silent congratulation.

Fittingly, back to earth: after pumping the milk into the my vat and starting the pasteurization process, I went outside to clean the truck and locked myself out of the building. Landlord can't find his key. It's Memorial Day, no locksmith will pick up the phone. Heart racing.

It's startling what a committed man with a hammer can do to a doorknob.

Let's face it, I'm tired.

Cribbed from Mel Brooks, and delivered by Lily Von Stupp (Madeline Kahn) in Blazing Saddles, "Let's face it, I'm tired". According to Lily, "everything below the waist is kaput". I'm simpatico, but everything below the neck is kaput. This is a good thing because I'm a chubby man, so all the exercise I'm forced to do is one step closer to getting back to "fighting weight". I have nicks and cuts all over my hands, and my entire body aches. What a great way to get back in shape, doing something I love and would do for free. There is sore for the wrong reasons and sore for the right, and I'm happy to report this is all right. G'night...

Yes.

There is actual cheese at Alemar Cheese. My make today went really well. Even though it was a thirteen hour day, I felt energized throughout, especially once the cheese made it into the molds. I plan to post a full description of the cheesemaking process, but not tonight. After I finished cleaning up, I spent a few moments just staring at the end result of something I've been working towards for almost a year. Cheese is not the most attractive looking stuff right out of the vat, but you coulda fooled me. It was beautiful.

There is still no guarantee that the cheese will be great, but so far I'm confident. For a long time now, people will ask what I'm up to, and I'll launch into a lengthy bit about how I'm starting this cheese business and so on. Tomorrow, if anyone asks what I do, I'll simply look them dead in the eye and say "I'm a cheesemaker". Have a great night...

Missed it by that much...

This will be short and sweet. I was almost through the cheesemaking process when I committed a rookie error. The cheese could have been saved, but it had no chance to be great, so I pulled the plug. It's almost 10 p.m. and I'm just finished with clean up. I'm tired and a bit dejected, though not as much as I would have expected. I know what I did wrong and it will be corrected, so life goes on. Next make: Monday the 27th.

Showtime

Today is the first day of production. I'll post some thoughts afterward. Wish me luck...

Cheese Trier?

Because I make soft cheese, I don't need to have a cheese trier on hand. What is a cheese trier?

A cheese trier is a tool for, well, trying cheese. It kind of resembles an old school corkscrew, but instead of an auger on the end, a long, tapering cylindrical knife takes its place. This allows you to burrow deep into a large wheel of cheese leaving a small hole. Kind of like drilling a core sample, it provides you with a cross section of the wheel, gauging its maturation and any imperfections. It's a very valuable tool for most cheesemakers, and, like most tools, a clever device well suited to its task.

My problem lies with the name. In winemaking, samples are extracted from the aging barrels with a "thief", a large glass cousin of the turkey baster. Thief--now that has a ring to it. It implies mischief, sexiness and intrigue. "Trier"? Perhaps the word rolls off the tongue beautifully in French. But, beyond the goofy sound of the word, it just seems like the antithesis of elegance; utilitarian and drab.

I'm going to work on this. You're welcome to join.

Mensch Central

This business would not exist without a small circle of friends who are taking a chance on me.

I'm blessed to have a number of exceptional friends, and short of my immediate family, they mean the world to me. Money and friends can be an explosive combination, but we are all at the age, I think, where whatever the outcome, our bonds will remain intact. Let it be said that I have every intent to make this work and provide a nice return, but every new venture starts out with optimism.

So, a brief, but exponentially sincere thanks, to my friends and partners Mike, Marty, Chris, Tim, Bruce & Dean.

Stalking the Unsuspecting Mentor

When I made the decision to really commit to Alemar Cheese, I knew I was going to need someone in the business to call on for guidance and knowledge. I knew I wanted to make soft ripened cheeses. I had already tried a number of varieties, both domestic and imported, and the maker I kept returning to was Cowgirl Creamery.

Cowgirl was founded in 1997 by Peggy Smith and Sue Conley. They initially made fresh cheese exclusively, and, after getting that down, focused on soft ripened. Their first cheese, Mt. Tam, was an immediate hit, and since that time they've developed a number of additional varieties. Their cheeses have won a plethora of awards, and Cowgirl grew as the accolades mounted. You can find them at www.cowgirlcreamery.com. They also stock an impressive array of other artisan cheeses, primarily American. Besides the obvious fact that they were running a profitable operation, I just got a sense from reading up on the company that they were my kind of people, and as I did further research that became more and more apparent.

Early last Summer I sent an email to Peggy and Sue. With the success they've achieved, I was certainly one of many seeking an audience. A week or so later, Sue replied. She said I was welcome to come out and visit, and mentioned that she would be in Chicago for the American Cheese Society conference in late July. I was already planning to attend, but now it was set in stone: my main goal for the conference would be to meet Sue and find out if I had a chance to spend some time under her wing.

I found her late one afternoon at a day end cheese tasting. My nerves were jumping as I bided my time, waiting to introduce myself. She seemed to know everyone, so each time she left a conversation, she'd turn and start another. Ultimately, she broke free for a moment and I pounced. I'm sure an observer might describe my move as more of a sidle, but I assure you, it was definitely a pounce.

I said hello and she knew immediately who I was. We small talked a bit, and I mentioned that I had a trip planned to California in a few weeks. Sue said she would be happy to spend a morning with me touring both of Cowgirl's production facilities.

Sue possesses a great sense of calm. I have no idea if she dabbles in zen, but it wouldn't surprise me. She exudes joy and natural curiosity, and I felt like I'd known her a long time.

In early August, I made the drive to Cowgirl's original site in Pt. Reyes Station, a rustic village in rural Marin County. I could smell the sea as I walked from the car to the refurbished barn that houses Cowgirl. Sue arranged for me to take a tour of the facilities with an assistant cheesemaker. He went through their process of cheesemaking, and it felt good, sort of conspiratorial, to be "talking the talk" with a real cheesemaker. As the morning unfolded, Cowgirl opened for business, and several visitors began to turn up. There is a lovely deli on site, and a crowd began to form, picking out provisions and wine for picnicking later. The entire place has a great vibe--I hope you'll get the chance to visit, it's more than worth the drive.

Next, I drove to Petaluma where the new, larger production site is located. Sue met me with a kind smile and suggested a tour. The facility is much larger, yet the feel is still very artisan. I had a chance to walk through their aging/holding rooms, and the aroma left me heady. Talking with an icon of the industry certainly contributed to the feeling. We walked past the two giant vats (keep in mind that "giant" in the artisan circles still falls under the toy category of the behemouth cheese producers) as Cowgirl's cheesemakers went about the business of filling molds full of freshly cut curds.

I had a chance to meet a bunch of folks at Cowgirl, and to a person they seemed genuinely happy at work. What a wonderful thing to have created, a business teeming with fulfillment and purpose. As Sue walked me to my car, I popped the question, straight out: "Will you be my mentor?", I asked. She smiled, and said yes. I tried my best to calmly accept her reply, but I'm sure she knew how much it pleased me. Just a few minutes prior to that, after I'd told her my story, she looked at me calmly and said "You can do this." Those words will be forever etched in my memory, and I thank Sue with all my heart for her kindness and generosity.

Sue and I don't talk all that often--She's amazingly busy, and I try not to trouble her with things I can figure out on my own. But, whenever I've needed her time and counsel, she's been there.

Animal Spirits

As I get closer and closer to getting Alemar Cheese off the ground, I'm reminded why everyone isn't in business for themselves. Each day there are minor victories and unexpected setbacks. Emotions peak and wane by the hour. Starting a business, let alone succeeding for any length of time, demands hard work, some smarts, and a healthy dose of luck.

John Maynard Keynes, the noted economist, coined the term "Animal Spirits" to describe the confidence and naive optimism of the entrepreneur. It's a bit of a strange name, but I understand it: where does one find the will to take an idea and turn it into a viable business? Why take the risk?

Something in the human condition has propelled us to continuously improve our circumstances. While some might argue this may turn out to be our ultimate undoing, there are at anytime millions of us striving to figure out a way to do something better. It's hardwired into our brains, like it or not.

I'm not curing cancer or solving world hunger, though I'm deeply grateful that there are those on this planet who try. I'm just doing the thing that, for whatever reason, I'm driven to do. When I experience a sharp feeling of self-doubt, I try my best to breath and remember all the things I'm fortunate to have. Then I muster the Animal Spirits inside, and carry on.

Coffee with Flo and Dave

A cheesemaker is only as good as his or her milk. Minnesota, which has a significant dairy presence, makes the job of sourcing milk a bit easier. However, once you factor in a desire for organic milk and something local, your field becomes a great deal smaller. As I began putting a business plan together, I found a number of sources listing organic dairies in my area. After a bit of rooting around, and thanks especially to Jean, formerly of Pastureland Co-op, I settled on Cedar Summit Farms in New Prague as my first choice.

Cedar Summit's proprietors, David and Florence Minar, made the commitment to go organic in 1994. The farm has been in Dave's family since 1926, and the next generation of Minars are actively involved in the business. Their website, http://www.cedarsummit.com/, tells much more of the story.

My first contact was with Mike, Dave and Flo's son. I caught him by phone the first time I tried, which was fortunate, because the guy is busy. He runs the creamery right alongside the farm. Cedar Summit began their own production facility for milk, cream and ice cream in 2002. They have gained a terrific reputation for quality. Mike was polite, but a little guarded. I got the sense that the best chance I had to do business with them was to meet face-to-face. We arranged a time, and I stopped in the next week. Mike looked like he sounded on the phone: serious and no nonsense. He had a firm handshake, and was obviously proud of the operation as he described it. I told him a bit about my background and plans, and he said he'd discuss the matter with his family. I left the meeting hopeful, but acutely aware that I'd better have a plan B, and C for that matter.

I kept in touch via email, and left Mike a few messages. I didn't want to appear pushy, but I did want to let him know Cedar Summit was my first choice, and that I would be promoting their farm by including the milk source on all our labels. A bit later, I received a more encouraging email. Ultimately, Mike gave me his folks' number, and I called Dave to arrange a meeting. We had a brief but pleasant conversation, and set a date a few days before New Years.

When I arrived at the house, Flo met me at the door, with Dave right behind. I brought a gift, a nice bottle of Champagne to ring in 2009. I was a bit nervous as I entered their home. They offered me a cup of coffee and we sat at their kitchen table. We talked a bit about my plans, and they were obviously curious as to why I'd chosen them. I told them that, from everything I could gather, they were the best organic dairy in South Central Minnesota (one could argue the best in the State), and that without the best milk, you can't make the best cheese.

I love coffee; more specifically, I love coffee with lots of milk. After a few minutes of small talk, Dave poured the coffee and added a generous dollop of 2% Cedar Summit milk at my behest. It was delicious and soothing; just the right thing to ease my nerves. We continued our discussion, and in the end, had an informal agreement to work together.

Driving away, I felt a strong sense of encouragement about my project. My "quest" to make great cheese had taken a big leap forward.