Thirty-Minute Cheese

So.

Here we have a new food blog.

And for the subject of my first post in my new blog, I would like to address the love of my life: Cheese.

But Mia, you say, what about your darling husband?

I do not, to my knowledge, talk about my husband in my sleep. Or wonder what variety of my husband would go with everything else I consume. Therefore, I must deduce that while I might possibly love my husband more than cheese, he does not occupy nearly as much room in my consciousness. Ergo, etc.

Cheese.
How I adore thee.
In every form, soft to hard, mild to pungent, fresh to age-ed.

*le sigh*

I have taken to making my own, at least as far as mozzarella is concerned. While it is recommended to use the freshest, most local brand of milk available for this process, I have found that I get good results from cheaper local store-brand milk, as well. One gallon of milk makes one pound of cheese, and I usually make a batch every week or two.

It takes thirty minutes.

It's thirty minutes of constant work; measuring, timing, checking, tweaking. Adjusting the process to your equipment; your experience guiding your decisions. It is totally worth it.

At the end of the process, if you're lucky, you end up with these otherworldly orbs, which taste of complete, pure, simple cheesey goodness:

I did this yesterday afternoon. My (beloved) husband brought home a jug of milk, and thirty minutes later there was cheese. It never ceases to amaze me; it's like an act of magic. Better living through chemistry.

Pluswise, you can dress it up in olive oil, basil, and pepper flakes, and pair it with homemade pickled carrot sticks for an afternoon snack! Bonus!

(I need a better camera)