DIY GOURMET: Freehand Fromage

There are a host of favorite unsolved culinary mysteries that no chef school or TV cooking show really solves:

How do cucumbers and salt become crunchy, vinegary pickles?

How do they get Italian gnocchi to be firm enough to hold their shape but cloud soft when you bite into them?

Is it really possible to make basmati rice without having to dig at the bottom of the pan to clean it after?

How is cheese even possible?

As to the cheese question, it’s pretty much just milk. Yet somehow, just milk can take on endless variations of taste, texture, smell and appearance. It’s this shape-shifting ability, combined with the simplest of ingredients, that immediately puts it in a culinary class most people think is way out of reach. Making cheese for most of us is the kitchen equivalent of adjusting a four-barrel Carter carburetor perched on a Chrysler 440 engine in a 1968 Imperial.

We know it’s possible, but we can’t even fathom how, and really don’t want to know.

Lies. All lies. Sure, there are some nasty things about cheese you gloss over or outright ignore when you’re spreading a dab of custardy Vieux Lille or the fabulously foul smelling Epoisses de Bourgogne on something crusty and chewy. It is our very little friendly bacteria, Brevibacterium Linens, that, when encouraged by the washing cheese rinds with endless things like wines, brandies and other fluids, gives the world’s stinky cheeses their undeniable aromas. And, coincidentally, it’s that very same bacteria that makes human feet stink.

So that teenager-tennis-shoe-bottom-of-the-laundry-bag-chicken-coop-refrigerator-unplugged aroma you pay so much for in the cheese shop isn’t actually a miracle, but a fairly easily reproducible culinary science experiment.

It is entirely possibly that, with not a lot more than marginal diligence, you, too, could be cranking out cheeses that would make everyone’s eyes water in disgust and desire at the same time.

But there’s no reason to start your cheese-making career with the culinary equivalent of a valve job when, in less than an hour, you can create killer fresh mozzarella in a process much easier than changing the air filter in your car.

All you need is some water, some citric acid, some rennet, some kosher salt, a gallon of milk and about 45 minutes.

With that, and a juicy summer tomato left on the vine to turn deep red, a few choice leaves of fresh basil and real balsamic vinegar, you can create a caprese salad that will ruin them for you in restaurants for the rest of your life. Honest.

As it turns out, cheeses that aren’t aged, like mozzarella, ricotta, neufchatel, and queso fresco or blanco, are just curdled milk with some extra attention.

You may actually have made cheese yourself by accident. Ever leave half a glass of milk in a room for a couple of days? You get this nasty solid mass floating in disgusting yellowish liquid: curds and whey.

So, a whey we go. Mozzarella is simply that same thing in a controlled situation. A gallon of milk is tempered with acid, in this case, the same sour acid that give lemons their bite, and then curdled with rennet. Drained, kneaded and shaped and ready to eat in under an hour.

Rennet is one of those things you really don’t want to ask a lot of questions about. Suffice it to say that animal rennet, the easiest to find and the most reliable for beginners, comes from the stomach lining of large mammals, particularly, the fourth stomach of a bovine calf. It’s a substance that helps calves make their mother’s milk digestible by curdling it into solids and whey. The story goes that ancient herders discovered this little miracle because they used animal stomachs as lunch boxes and canteens. And, whaddya know, milk kept in a calf stomach to enjoy on the road turns to cheese and tastes great. Clearly, the ancestor willing to give it a shot was the same dude who first spotted an oyster and wondered what it tasted like.

So a whey we go on turning all this simplicity into a simply astounding hand-made treat.

You’re going to need un-homogenized milk to get the best cheese. You can substitute homogenized milk mixed with heavy cream, but the result is only so-so, and if you’re going to make your own mozzarella, don’t bother. Homogenization is the process of stabilizing the butterfat in milk and keeping it from floating to the top of the milk carton or bottle. That process also inhibits the milk from curdling.

Non-homogenized milk is available at Whole Foods, Vitamin Cottage and a few local serious grocery stores. Seek it out.

So you pour a gallon of milk in a big Dutch oven. Measure out a cup of cool water and mix it with 1/4 teaspoon of citric acid. You can get that at just about any pharmacy or health-food store. In another measuring cup, measure 1/4 cup of water and add 1/4 tsp of liquid rennet, or 1/4 tablet of rennet (stir until it dissolves). Some grocery stores carry it, Vitamin Cottage does, but so do many home-brew beer shops,

Pour the citric acid water mixture into the milk and gently stir for 30 seconds. Over medium heat, bring to milk exactly 90 degrees while stirring occasionally. Turn off the heat. Add the rennet mixture and stir slowly for another 30 seconds. Put a lid on the pan and wait 5 minutes. The mixture should have “broken” by now, meaning there will be a pool of yellow whey floating on top of the now-custardy milk. If it’s still just “milk soup,” wait another five minutes.

Now cut the curds in the pan with a long knife, making straight lines about a half-inch apart one way, and then the other. Like you’re cutting a 3-D checkerboard into the curds. Cut all the way to the pan bottom.

Now turn the medium heat back on and warm the cut curds to exactly 105 degrees. It won’t take long, and you do this while slowly stirring so you don’t tear up the large curds too much. It’s really easy.

When it reaches 105 degrees, remove from the heat and keep very slowly stirring for 5 minutes. You should have a nasty-looking clotty mess floating in what looks like the top of a forgotten container of cottage cheese. That’s a good thing. You just made cheese.

Now you just have to finish it. You need to heat these curds to make that characteristically chewy-rubbery thing that good mozzarella does.

The real way, and really easiest, to do this is in a big pan of almost boiling water. Bring the water to about 180 degrees. Put on some heavy rubber kitchen gloves, you know, those Playtex things your gramma used to wash dishes. Using a really big tea strainer or colander-ladle, fish out about a cup of curds and let them drain into the curd pan. Then dip the wad o’ curds into the very hot water, making sure it’s submerged. Wait about 2 minutes and then check the temperature of inside of the curd ball. We’re trying to get it to 135 degrees. Depending on how big the ball is and how hot the water, it may take a couple of times.

When the curd ball is hot, sprinkle some kosher salt on it, about a half a teaspoon.

You knead this salted ball gently several times until it gets kind of like very, very soft taffy. The more you knead it, the stiffer and more chewy it will be when you’re done.

Either make 2-3 medium sized balls, or several the size of golf balls, bocconcini. Squeeze as much of the whey out of the balls as you can, fold under the edges to create nice, smooth-looking balls, then wrap each one in plastic, or store the bocconcini in the whey, which you can pour into a jar. Add a little extra salt to the whey if you’re going to do that.

Wrap bigger balls in plastic wrap and twist tight. You can let them rest at room temperature for about a half hour, or pop them in the fridge, or even ice water if you’re dying to try them. After about 30 minutes, they’re ready to cut into chunks or slices and eat.

A thick slab of this on a juicy, sliced tomato, some shredded fresh basil and a sprinkle of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, cracked pepper and salt will change your world.

The cheese keeps for several days in the fridge.