There is a fable describing the origin of cheese that lives in my mind.  I can no longer recall if I heard it, or if I supposed it on my own.  Cheese, as a radical concept, is the coagulation of fermented milk.  Today, we can purchase very specific and sophisticated cultures of microbes, on line, and have them arrive on the stoop in 48 hours.  Each strain has a personality.  Some like it hot (over cow degrees) and are categorized and Thermophilic.  Those that prefer a cow degree environment are called Mesophilic. Some produce surface molds that flavor and protect the cheese, i.e. Penicillium Candidum, the white mold rind on brie.  Some, like Penicillium Roqueforti, give blue cheese its distinctive color and flavor.  Once the milk has acidified from the digestive activity of these bacteria, it is coagulated with rennet.  Here's the mystery: rennet is an enzyme present in the lining of a calf's stomach.  Who discovered the action this ingredient has on sour milk? 

The fable goes like this... One day, cheese monger 0, let's call him Krunk, was out hunting water buffalo.  It was a warm day, in early summer.  A little before mid day, Krunk spotted his prey.  A young mother buffalo was at the watering hole with her calf.  The rest of the herd grazed near by, but Krunk had the wind in his favor, and was able to creep through the reeds to within a spear's chuck of the cow.  He launched his weapon, and pieced the animal between two ribs, splitting her heart in two.  She dropped to her knees, then tipped on her side, snapping the shaft of Krunk's only spear.  She kicked twice, and was gone.  Spear not withstanding, Krunk was over joyed.  Times had been tough, back at the cave.  A late frost had killed many of the fruit blossoms, and his clan was eating mostly roots and greens to get by.  His kill would gain him great esteem among his relations.  It might even draw the attention of the chiefs daughter.  Visions of a hero's welcome filled Krunk's mind as he approached the dead beast.  Her calf was by her side, unsure what to do.  The rest of the herd flushed when he stood from his blind in the reeds, but the calf remained.  Krunk slowly slipped the stone blade from around his neck and approached the calf.  It didn't move, until he lunged for it.  He caught it by an ankle and quickly slit its throat.  What a day, he thought.  The calf would only add to his gift for the clan.  Maybe he would lay it at the feet of the chief's daughter when he returned to the cave for help carting the meat home. 

He got to work processing his kills.  He gutted the calf, saving the lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, and stomach.  He rinsed the stomach out in the water and tucked it back into the cavity in the calfs rib cage.  He stowed the other organs there, too, where they'd be safe from the flies now gathered looking for a nice place for meaty reproductive cycle.  He turned to the cow.  Her udder was full.  Krunk ran his hand over the taught skin and thought of the chief's daughter.  He had no gourd or pot with him, but he was determined to find a way to bring the milk home to his object of desire.  He gave one teet a squeeze.  A jet if milk squirted in the dust.  It was at this moment that the first cheese began!  He remembered the veal stomach, and dug around for it, in the calf.  He tied one end of it closed with a reed, and began milking the cow into the stomach.  When it was full, he tied the other end and slipped it back into the still warm calf.  He gutted the cow and added her organs to the calf's.  He quartered the massive beast and strung the parts in a near by tree to protect his prize from the wild dogs undoubtedly already on their way, tracking the smell of blood.

Unbeknownst to Krunk, a culture (carried in the wind, or living along the pond's edge, or brought on the smelly feet of some fly) had inoculated his milk.  During the time it took for him to dress out the cow, the milk fermented in the veal stomach.  The rennet caused it to coagulate, and a clean break was achieved. 

Krunk lifted the calf onto his shoulders and triumphantly strode back home.  He pictured the moment he would hold the veal stomach over a clay pot and free the reed holding back the milk.  The women of the clan would cheer as the milk poured forth.  The other young men would roll their eyes and mutter "This guy...", and the chiefs daughter would cast her gaze over his strong arms and bite her bottom lip.  Inside the stomach, every step gently stirs the curds in their warm bath of whey.  They shrank and firmed, as he walked.  Upon his return, all the children ran to greet him.  They touched the calf and shouted to the others about how great Krunk was.  The whole clan gathered.  Krunk stood with the calf on his shoulders and told the story of his hunt.  He could see the chief's daughter working her way through the crowd.  He padded the tale with inaccurate details, claiming his spear was broken chasing wolves from his kill, and the like.  He had her full attention.  When he finished his brag, he declared "This calf is a gift for you, Kiku!" and laid the calf at the feet of the chief's daughter.  He told his younger brother to fetch a pot, as he fished around in the calf for the stomach.  His brother placed the pot on the ground.  Krunk lifted the stomach and told them how he had saved the milk from the cow, just for Kiku.  Sure enough, all the ladies sighed and touched their throats while the young men snorted and turned there shoulders to the spectacle.  Ever so slowly, Krunk untied the knotted reed.  While he had been spreading his long tale, the curd mass had settled into a mat, inside the stomach.  When he finally tipped the thing up to pour out the milk only thin yellowish whey spilled into the clay pot.  The expressions of the women went from expectant admiration to confused disgust.  The men laughed at him.  Kiku said "Well, thanks for the calf, anyway." and scooped it up.  Disheartened, Krunk tossed the stomach under his stack of furs and gathered a crew to help retrieve the rest of the meat. 

Inside the stomach, under the weight of the furs, the curd mat was being pressed.  Whey drained into the sand through the open end of the stomach.  The following day, Krunk pulled his shameful failure out from under the furs, intent on walking it into the forest while reexamining his life choices.  There was something solid inside the stomach, however.  He remembered pouring all of the liquid out, and wondered what could be left.  He slit open the stomach to find a perfectly formed wheel of cheese.  It smelled unusual, but not putrid.  He tasted it.  He liked it!  Memories of the previous day's scorn and laughter prevented him from sharing his discovery with anyone else.  He hid the cheese in the back of the cave, nibbling at it from time to time.  He noticed that it tasted better every time he tried it.  After two moons, it was sensational.  He finally worked up the nerve to get a second opinion.  He told Kiku what happened, and asked her if she'd like to try the cheese.  Trepidatious yet intrigued, she followed him into the depths of the cave.  Krunk cut her a slice.  She sniffed it, and gave him a funny look.  "Trust me", he implored.  She nibbled a corner off.  Her eyes widened and she moaned, just a little bit.  She looked at him with admiration, and gobbled down the slice. 

And that, boys and girls, is how France happened.

The act of making cheese is an act of preservation.  The idea is to "spoil" the milk in an appetizing way, such that dangerous or unpleasant microbes will leave it alone.  Once cultured, salted, and partially dehydrated, a cheese can rest in a cave for years and only improve.  One of the biggest challenges to the modern, aspiring cheese monger is the lack of a cave.  Most cheeses, particularly hard cheeses require a sixty-plus day aging period at cave degrees (54-57F) and cave humidity (85%).   As previously mentioned, with regard to fermented meats, this is an environment absent from modern life.  Root cellars are rare, and the typical basement houses a home theater, rather than potatoes and prosciutto.

If you want to dip your toe into the art of cheese making, but lack a cave (or a spare refrigerator with an after market plug-in thermostat) fear not.  There are several cheeses that are intended to be eaten shortly after completion.  Some, in the case of mozzarella for example, are intended to be finished off on the very day they are made.  Others, like chevre (and its cow's milk version, quark) are good for a couple weeks, but not aged.  Today we will make feta.  It spends the better part of a week ripening at room temperature, and then can be stored in brine for a year or more.  If you find you like making these quick cheeses, and want to grow into aged cheeses, you may find a need for a "cheese cave" in your life.  Myself, I am digging one into a hill on the farm. 

Milk selection plays a role in cheese quality.  Jersey milk, or that from Brown Swiss cows is prized for cheese making, as it has a higher butterfat content, and just makes a better product.  If you must use pasteurized, homogenized milk, you may need to add calcium chloride to break the milk into curds and whey.  Raw milk is always preferable, if you can score some.  Traditionally, feta is made from goats milk.  My goat needs to be bred, and isn't in milk, but the cow is flowing like a champ.  In this recipe I use lipase power (another animal extraction, only from baby goats) to impart that characteristic twang to the feta.  This process begins with an involved half day, followed by four more mostly inactive ones.  Once it's done, and in the fridge, it's there to crumble on salads almost indefinitely. 

How to Make Feta Cheese with Cows Milk

As with any cheese making endeavor, sanitation is key.  Cheese happens at a perfect temperature and in a perfect medium to culture not just the bugs we want, but gross ones too.  Following meticulous food safety protocols will minimize unwanted science experiments.  You will need the following tools to pull this off:

A large non-reactive pot (not aluminum) with a lid

A larger pot such as a water bath canner

A long knife

A slotted spoon

A meat/cheese thermometer

A large square of butter muslin, or a tea towel

Begin by putting about 4" of water in the larger pot.  Place the folded cloth in the pot, and then add the smaller pot with the lid on.  Slip the knife and the spoon into the gap between the two pot (if your thermometer has a clip, clip it in this gap, too) and boil for 20 minutes.  This will sterilize all your gear at once.  Now we can begin!

Ingredients:

2 gallons raw Jersey milk, still warm from the cow, or the best you can find.

1/4 tsp Mesophilc DVI MA culture

1/4 tsp lipase powder

1 tsp liquid rennet dissolved in 1/2 cup non chlorinated water

Non-iodized salt (sea, kosher, etc.)

(*NOTE: we are running a bacteria farm, here.  Chlorine and iodine are ANTImicrobial disinfectants!  We are infecting milk with a culture, so turning around and killing our tiny livestock would be a waste of milk.  Furthermore, as the latest research reveals that the gut micro-biome is responsible for everything from immune function to the production of mood influencing hormones, is it smart to drink bleach water from the tap, or use iodized table salt?  I'm just wondering...)

Directions:

Pour the milk into the smaller pot, still floating in the hot water.  Simmer the double boiler, gently stirring occasionally, until the milk reaches 88F (if you are cow privileged, and you milked on a mild morning, you're already at around 88F, when you start).  Remove the pot from the double boiler, and sprinkle the Mesophilic culture and the lipase on the surface of the milk.  Let them rehydrate for five minutes, or so, then distribute them through the milk by gently stirring from top to bottom for a couple minutes.  Encourage your microbes.  Speak sweetly to them, as you stir.  Cover the pot, and let it rest for 40 minutes.  During this phase, that pinch of culture is doing crazy math.  It's multiplying by dividing.  The colony grows and as it consumes the lactose in the milk, it excretes acidic waste the drops the pH of the milk.  This acidification makes the environment unappealing to transients, reducing the risk of pathogenic bacteria squatting in your curd.  It also makes it possible for the rennet to work.  Gently stir the milk and pour the rennet trough your slotted spoon into the moving milk, then stir (top to bottom) for one minute.  Cover again and let rest for 30-40 minutes.  Check for a "clean break" by slipping your cleanest finger just into the surface and pulling up.  The surface should split.  Once here, it's time to cut the curd.  Insert your knife at the "high noon" position of the pot, all the way to the bottom.  Pull it toward yourself, to the opposite side.  Make parallel cuts every half-inch to the right, then to the left of your first cut.  Turn the pot, and repeat this process perpendicular to the existing cuts.  You now have a half-inch grid of cuts.  Angle your blade to 45 degrees and trace your earlier cuts in the four directions, East, South, West, and then North.  Try to follow the couture of the pot while staying straight at the surface.  Let the cut curd rest for five minutes, and then gently stir.  Cut any large curds as they float up.  Check your temperature.  If you are dropping below 88F, fill your sink with 88F water, and set the pot in it.  Let the curds "cook" like this for 45 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes to avoid matting of the curds on the bottom of the pot.  The curds will sweat whey, shrink, and toughen to a slightly rubbery consistency. 

Pull your cloth out of the water in the double boiler and unfold it in a colander.   Set the colander in a bowl and slowly pour the curds into it.  Gather the corners of the cloth and tie with twine.  Hang this curd bag over the bowl and allow it to drain for 3 or 4 hours.  The whey can be saved for ricotta (heat to 197F and add 1/4 cider vinegar, let stand 10 minutes, strain through butter muslin, add salt) fed to chickens of pigs, or used how you wish.  After the initial draining, open the cloth, turn the cheese over, tie it back up, and let it hang over night.

In the morning, your kitchen will smell like feet, a little bit.  That's good.  Open your cloth to reveal your lovely cheese!  Cut it into 2" pieces.  Liberally salt all surfaces and place them into a covered (non-reactive, like plastic) container.  Tilt the container slightly so that whey expressed by the salt can pool away from the cheese.  Leave this on the counter for 4 days, draining it off a couple times.  On the third day, make a "full saturation" brine by boiling 1/2 cup of non-iodized salt in 1/2 gallon of water.  Let this cool to room temp, over night.  On the fourth day, put the cheese into a sterilized glass jar, such as a one gallon pickle jar, and pour the brine over it.  Put it in the refrigerator.  It will be awesome in about a week, but can be used anytime.  I use tongs to pull chunks out of the brine, to avoid contamination, but not much could survive the brine.  That's why feta lasts so long.

So, as you can see, making cheese is kind of a precise and patient thing.  It takes some time to hone a feel for it, but with slight variations of process you can produce a plethora of different cheeses with the same equipment.  Keep a lookout for more cheese recipes in the future, and sign up for my newsletter if you want to know the minute a new post is live on Radical Gastronomy!

Next time... Oaxacan green corn tamales with wood ash nixtamalization!  (What the heck is that, you ask?  Find out next week!)

The products below are Amazon Affiliate links. If you buy through them, I receive a small commission with no added cost to you.