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“How would you like to learn to make cheese?”
My dear friend and extraordinary chef, Emilia Strazzanti, didn’t have to ask twice! And as soon as I told Fabri what I’d be doing on International Women’s Day, he wanted in too! I knew it would be right up his street! Artisanal produce made with the freshest ingredients, by a master. We were in for a treat!
Arriving at Masseria Ventosa, we were greeted by Margherita, Francesco’s beautiful ten year old dog, a whole flock of hens and their vociferous rooster! The yard was testament to Francesco’s love of making things. An arched barbecue, that he says he built more for the enjoyment of building it, than for a desire to cook on it! And his current project… a sink made with an assortment of majolica tiles in the deep blues and yellows that are so typically Sicilian and conjure up the sea and glorious sunshine.
Emilia arrived not long after us. She, very sweetly, presented me with mimosa for Women’s Day. Since 1946 this has been a tradition in Italy. Introduced by Teresa Mattei, an Italian feminist and politician, who at age 25 was the youngest person to be elected to the Italian parliament. It was she who chose the mimosa as a symbol for women’s day, as it blooms at the beginning of March, is beautifully fragrant and has a bright, yellow colour that represents the vitality and strength of women.
Of course nothing ever happens in Sicily until after a coffee has been shared so while the moka was brewing, Francesco showed us where he makes his bread once a fortnight, baking it in a traditional wood-fired oven which can take up to 15 kilos of bread at a time.
Coffee over, it was time to make cheese! Francesco is un casaro, a cheese maker. From the cheese-room window he can look out across the field to where his cows, the ones who provide the gloriously fresh milk for all these cheeses, live their life, on grass, roaming freely. Every cow has a name and not only that, they respond to their names. Francesco’s love for his animals shines through his eyes when he speaks about them.
We get a quick lesson on the basics, swap vocabulary; we learn the terms in Italian while Francesco adds the quite specific vocabulary to his already good English. Curds, whey, rennet, pout (more later on why that’s a term in cheese-making!) Cagliata, serio, caglio, funcia.
Francesco explains how the processes of cheesemaking that once took place in wooden barrels, are no longer allowed by Europe. Instead, plastic has taken its place, which, when standing here in the midst of this most rustic tradition, doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense.
Today we are making provola, one of the oldest cheeses in Southern Italy The cheese itself is white, as is the rind, while the consistency is compact, elastic, and soft. It’s sweet, slightly acidic, and with a delicate note. It is a wonderful cheese to make together.
The first stage of the cheese, la tuma, had already been made. Francesco demonstrates the process from start to finish, while we drink in every element of what he’s doing, knowing that soon we’ll be taking our turn. The tuma is sliced uniformly and quite thinly. Hot whey, left over from the morning’s ricotta is poured on top and we wait a moment to let the cheese soften in its warm bath. With a wooden stick the cheese is brought together and then Francesco uses his hands to begin to smooth the cheese and mould it into its characteristic shape. “Gently, gently, gently”, he says. It’s a delicate process. Frequent dipping in the hot whey keeps the cheese soft enough to work… It’s not as easy as it looks! It’s moved constantly, rotated to form it’s beautiful sphere and by using one thumb to repeatedly fold the rim of the cheese in on itself, the famous ‘pout’ is formed. A pout worthy of any Instagrammer taking a selfie! Once the shaping is complete, the top of the cheese is tied and dropped into a bucket of cold water.
Each of us, Emilia, Fabrizio and I, had a real sense of the authenticity of this process. The same satisfaction that comes from kneading bread or making fresh pasta. A connection with the food, an appreciation of the magic that’s made from the simplest of ingredients. A kind of awe at the mastery and skill of our casaro, Francesco. A delight in living in a place where these tiny, artisanal producers have a valuable and valued place, far apart from their bigger, way more commercial counterparts.
Francesco opens a door and immediately we know it’s the cheese maturation room. The aroma is incredible. This is cheese heaven!
We pop our freshly made provole in a briny bath and head outside to sit in the sunshine, share bread and cheese and wine, chat and laughter and good company. We finish with a torta made in our local pasticceria in honour or Women’s Day. When I called in yesterday to order it, the signora behind the counter listened carefully to my muddled up Italian and made perfect sense of what I wanted. I apologised for my many errors and she asked “But where are you from?” “I’m from Dublin”, I said. “I’m Irish” “Well”, she replied, “if I was in Dublin I couldn’t say one word to anybody so well done, you’re great!” One woman, lifting up another… could anything be more perfect for the day that’s in it!
And so at the end of a perfectly lovely day I’m thankful for friendship, for good people making great cheese, for Teresa Mattei and all the women like her, who forged a path that we now follow. And I’m reminded of a sign I saw once in a cheesemongers in Dublin…
“You can’t make everyone happy… you’re not cheese!”
