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.