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.