Mozzarell-ahhhhhh

Oh thank god. The cheeses are coming out better nowadays. While my cheese cave sits empty of goat’s milk cheeses, the stove top has come up with some winners in the easy-cheese department. And easy, in terms of cheese, is relative my friends… I’ve honestly never engaged in anything that demanded so much control coupled with so much intuition at the same time. It’s all very Zen. I know, I know, that’s very Californian thing to say. I don’t throw that term around lightly, and I certainly don’t come to such practices naturally. Lacking any traditional religious education, I tend to come up with enigmatic wisdoms culled from pop culture and fortune-cookie strips the whole time I’m working on a new batch. As in, “Impatience is the death of ambition”, and “What is the true nature of milk?”, and “Do not taunt happy fun cheese”.

And I’m just making simple cheeses from standardized, commercially produced milk these days. My “terroir” is pretty manageable. But even with all that, it was batch number 8 of the 30 Minute Mozzarella recipe that finally turned out good. I started on it way back when I got all excited about becoming a master cheese maker. The first time was ridiculous; slap-dash hysterical curds-and-whey carnage. Lacking a microwave, the recipe recommends kneading the 175 degree curds with wooden spoons. Lacking patience of any kind whatsoever, I plowed in with bare hands. The initial batches were rubbery, bland, small-yield affairs, resulting in more curds ending up on the counter top, in my hair (don’t ask), or in the whey bath itself than in cheese form. The recipe also recommends adding lipase powder, a specialized enzyme known on the street as “Italase”, to increase the flavor of your mozzarella. After struggling with technique for the last few batches and an unsatisfactory flavor, I can finally offer anyone else venturing into the unchartered territory of home cheese making some pointers. With the 30 minute mozz, at any rate.

So, again, this recipe is from the book Home Cheese Making by Ricki Carroll. The recipe I re-did in its entirety here, but here’s the extra stuff I’ve learned along the (wait for it…) “whey”:

1) Impatience is the death of ambition. Which translates to, make sure all your gear is sterilized and waiting before you set in on the recipe. Dissolve your powders and liquids in cold water for at least 20 minutes before you plan on using them. In the case of the citric acid, giving it ample time to soften up will allow it to disperse in the milk easily. Otherwise, it’s chunk city. Ick. Heat your milk over low temp, too, because it makes for a smoother curd (again, it’s chunk city otherwise). When heating the hot whey for your curd stretching routine, wait until it is 195 degrees (instead of the recommended 175). Other wise, your curds will be unyielding and you will find yourself, yet again, in chunk city. CHUNK CITY IS A BAD PLACE TO GO. It is like Modesto. Take my word for it.

2) What is the true nature of milk? Proteins, fats, acids, sugars. Liquid and solid, just waiting for their chance to get the hell away from each other for a bit to discover their true natures. Give them the chance to do so by adding the lipase powder, which develops the flavor of the fats and proteins nicely, and seems to aid in dividing the curds from the whey. The magic of cheese making seems to reside in one’s ability to control all the “pieces” that compose raw milk. Consider the elements of the cheese and taste the whey/curds at every step of the process. Eventually, you won’t need the exact times or temperatures (which can be misleading, depending on what the milk may be like that day, how long you waited until you made cheese from it, the weather, etc.). You’ll know by taste and texture what the haps are, and what to do next.

3) Do not taunt happy fun cheese. This is a toughie. I love messing with stuff I cook, and I think most cooks are the same, but as much as cheese needs your constant focus, it HATES fussing. As in, extra poking, stirring, sloshing, adjusting the temperature up, adjusting the temperature down, adding a little salt, then a little more, moving the pan over the heat… I swear, the first time I made this mozzarella, I kept the tempo of a stir fry on it. It did not approve. The second time I kept moving the curds around like it was a three-card monte game to encourage them to coagulate. It did not approve. The third time I turned the temp up high at the last minute on the whey bath, then freaked out and turned it off because I thought it was too much. It did not approve. Keep things slow and steady, talk to it in a low voice, and your cheese will behave. If not, you’ll have an antagonistic vat of rubbery, cranky curds and an evil, murky whey to deal with. I repeat: do not taunt happy fun cheese.

Once finished, the mozzarella is ready to go. It’s not really a great melting cheese since it has such a firm structure, but it’s great sliced up on an antipasta plate or in salads. I usually make small balls from the mozz and keep them in a jar of blood-orange olive oil. You can pull them out one by one and throw them on a baguette that way and they’re delicious. The next time I think I might cut up some tiny prosciutto cubes to hide inside the cheese itself, although that borders dangerously on the edge of my last rule about no taunting. But I am crazy that way, no?