I’m really glad we made it to Florence before the Jersey Invasion dropped a gang of guidettes into the birthplace of Michelangelo. Although I’m sure they feel quite at home amongst the various Guess stores and Footlockers, I was disappointed that there is no legitimate shopping in this city. But I did have two of my more memorable food experiences during my short stay.

Across the Ponte Vecchio, away from the crowds and endless gelaterias, was a very small, simple, organic eatery with a mostly vegetarian menu called Cinque 5 (Piazza della Passera, 1, T:+39-055-274-1583). This is where I had the magical molten delight called focaccia di formaggio, a Ligurian specialty that is essentially a cheese-stuffed pizza cooked until it becomes a lava flow.

It wasn’t like what we know as focaccia at all. The dough is closer to a pita or lavash dough, rather than spongy bread. I was in salty, rich heaven.

My co-pilot started with a simple salad that I wanted to share because the concept behind the bowl almost seems revolutionary next to our deep-fried taco salad bowls. Very thin, light, and crisp = less guilt!

The interesting thing I found in a lot of Italy was German beer served instead of Italian. I love German beer just fine, but when in Rome, I want Roman beer!

One of my regrets was not trying the traditional Jewish Roman-style artichoke called carciofi di Giuda. Deep fried, it’s like the Roman-Jewish version of Chili’s Awesome Blossom. In Florence, I saw carciofi (artichoke) on the menu and ordered it, hoping I’d get lucky but ended up with deep-fried battered artichokes. Big distinction although they were delicious nonetheless.

Ribollita.

Nowhere near as good as what we had in Panzano-en-Chianti but it was good to try different versions.

Definitely the best and most unforgettable meal I had the entire trip was the gnudi at the enoteca Pitti Gola e Cantina. I had heard the word before but, even as the owner himself said, “This dish is 30 years in the making! You will not get this anywhere!”

Perfect balls of ricotta, asparagus, and flour sitting in an über-rich sauce of the same, with shaved pecorino on top.

The cheese plate here will also go down in history. We had to wait for a little while for the cheese because the farmer hadn’t brought it yet.  Yes, that’s correct. The farmer makes only sheep’s milk cheese and delivers to only 15 restaurants in ALL of Tuscany, and ours was one of them. I’ve had phenomenal cheeses before, but these really take the cake. They may look simple in the photo but they each had such an elevated, incredible flavor.  There was even one that was a straight-up pepperjack!

The reason we went to this restaurant initially was because we overheard a private tour guide mention it at a winery we visited in Chianti. I specifically went because she mentioned the triangoli di tartufi (stuffed triangle pasta with shaved truffles).

Fortunately for us, that was actually the least exciting dish of the evening. Normally truffles for me would trump all but it really couldn’t hold a match to the gnudi.

As is typical for landlocked interior regions, the cuisine is made up of mostly breads, pastas, and cheeses, while the coastal regions are made up of mostly seafood and fresh vegetables.   So while heavy at times, ultimately you can expect nothing less than rich and delicious from Florentine cuisine.

Next stop: Liguria!

*Jerkey was born in Tehran, raised in Berkeley, and now living in sunny Los Angeles. She enjoys playing XBOX, making pizza, and playing XBOX while eating pizza.

On my recent trip to Holland, we visited the adorable little town of Edam, and I got to try some genuine Edam cheese. This salad was covered with aged Edam cheese, pecans and roasted cherry tomatoes.

Photo by Erin Gleeson.

My introduction to vegetable ash came back in 2005, in the form of a very ripe slice of Morbier. For this I thank my friend Sean, a Francophile whose constant hankerings for Morbier resulted in him often stocking this cheese in our fridge. It is a wonderful, rubbery French cheese that features a thin, black streak of ash running through its center. Traditionally that ash (which, in the 19th century, was legitimate, REAL charcoal) served to bisect two separate milkings—morning and afternoon—of the cow.

Morbier is no longer produced this way, sadly, except by a family in Jura (this article is from 1985– I can’t find any more recent info on them online!). By the same token, the marriage of ash and cheese has completely evolved. Ash, once used by cheesemakers mainly for preservation purposes (as in the case of Morbier’s first layer that needed to keep overnight underneath a coating of ash), now functions as an aesthetic nod to tradition, though it is still utilized as a way to keep cheese from ripening on occasion.

In the case of Tronchetto di Capra al Carbone, a cheese I recently picked up while at Boston’s South End Formaggio, I also discovered the potency of ash as a flavor in its own right. Produced by La Casera in Italy, this ash-laden goat cheese sells for a hefty $18 per log.

As a sucker for both packaging and originality, I convinced my brother to buy this one-of-a-kind must-have cheese as my stocking stuffer this past Christmas. He obliged, mostly to prevent me from sampling it twelve times in front of the other customers.

Tronchetto is made using a coagulation process that involves lactic acid and thus results in a soft, smooth texture that is slightly firmer than cream cheese. Aged for thirty days, Tronchetto is rolled in charcoal dust, an ingredient that I would argue is its  pièce de résistance. La Casera, a cheesemaker known to wrap cheeses in everything from cabbage to flowers in order to enhance flavor, understands how the addition of ash not only changes the textural composition of the cheese with its carbon granules, but it also impacts what you taste.

I’m not going to lie—there is an alkaline effect, and it’s difficult to appreciate this as anything extraordinary when first encountered. It tastes like carbon, plain and simple. But the more I’ve eaten this cheese (I did have an entire log of it, after all), the more complex it becomes. The cheese itself, straddling the line between sharp and mild, compliments the ash because it is not totally subsumed by the charcoal aftertaste. You taste the coal particles, you savour the cream and tang of the goat’s milk. A perfect union.

Tronchetto may be the first instance where the inclusion of vegetable ash amounted to a transformative cheese-eating experience. And apparently I’m not the only one to identify the power of ash as a comestible of late. Maybe the Icelandic were onto something last year.

What does a cheesemonger do on Christmas vacation? If that holiday involves traveling to Boston, then it means paying a first-time visit to South End Formaggio. In my estimation, South End Formaggio and its parent store Formaggio Kitchen (in Cambridge, Mass.) are among the finest purveyors of cheese, wine, charcuterie, condiments, and the like in New England. They know their stuff, and the carefully stocked shelves prove it.

The range of cheeses they offer is vast, including the usual (e.g. English cheddars, camembert and boucheron, to name a few), as well as cheeses previously unfamiliar to me, such as Hafod and Romadur.

And these cheeses come directly from the producers, rather than a middleman distributor. Translation: South End takes great pride in sourcing, tasting, and buying what they eventually sell to the rest of us. As if that’s not enough, they even make their own charcuterie. Upon hearing all of this from my brother, a local Bostonian, I placed South End Formaggio at the top of my itinerary; and its products at the top of my Christmas list.

Undeterred by the massive blizzard that slammed Boston and the entire Eastern seaboard, I trekked in my ill-equipped, traction-less boots to South End Formaggio on a very snowy Boxing Day. To my surprise, I found a swarm of customers at the cheese counter at 11am, huddled in tortoise formation. One-by-one they ordered large quantities of prosciutto and expensive hunks of cheese as if preparing to hibernate for the rest of winter.

This entire scene proved to me that Bostonians love their cheese enough to risk hypothermia. They must love it as much as I do.

For 30 minutes I scoured the shop to discover not only a staggering number of cheeses, but also many fantastic non-dairy delights, too. Like an old school delicatessen, this store was chockablock with Old World specialties and staples that ranged from Sant’Eustachio coffee (where the well-to-do caffeinate in Rome) to nice table wines like Les Hérétiques from France.

I also managed to contain my sheer giddiness at the sight of the overstocked cheese counter, filled with domestic artisan cheeses and European classics, long enough to spot the shop’s own “Cheese Paper” newsletter. Inside this slim holiday issue were articles about the various flavors of Comté, the virtue of the Italian Christmas panettone, and other tidbits for the gourmand.

Limited by the reality that I had to transport all purchases back to Washington in an already-full backpack, I selected a few choice items. Among them were a package of Rancho Gordo’s Moro beans, a bottle of Edmond Briottet’s decadent and unparalleled crème de cassis, a bell-shaped Charollais sheep’s milk cheese, and the delectable Tronchetto di Capra Carbone (which I’ll be writing about in my next post).

Massachusetts may be home to Dunkin’ Donuts (not to mention the nation’s worst drivers) but I can still hold it in regard thanks to South End Formaggio (and the Red Sox, of course). And for anyone (like myself) who resides outside of Boston, Formaggio Kitchen has an outpost in NYC’s Essex Market, as well as online shop. They will ship many of their products, including cheeses. And neither rain, nor sleet, nor SNOW will prevent their delivery and consumption.

La Tur is for lovers. More specifically, it’s for those who love the complexity of cheeses that boast a blend of milks from goat, sheep, and cow. And let’s be honest, if you’re reading this cheese-centric post, then I’m probably speaking to you.

Made in the Piemonte region of Italy, an area known for magnificent wines and cheeses, La Tur is sold in small, round forms that pack a tangy, earthy punch. The producer, Caseificio dell’Alta Langa, prides itself on traditional processes (read: meticulous, old-fashioned cheese-making methods) that require no preservatives or additives of any kind. They also maintain a pretty stunning set-up in north Italy. You can get a glimpse of their grounds here.

La Tur tastes incredibly light and fresh directly as a result its artful production– it is processed and placed on market shelves after only of 15 days.

A rich cheese, La Tur has a soft, creamy exterior that belies its crumbly, subtly-flavored center. It is best savored when spread over a wafer cracker or a thin slice of baguette, and is easy to pair with white wines like Pinot Grigio or Sancerre. With a confident, buttery taste, this is a cheese that knows how to hold its own.

I must admit that, in spite of its grandeur amongst cheeses, La Tur took time to be discovered. It is easy to miss by sight, with a wrinkled, ivory-colored rind that vaguely resembles brie, Kunik, Rocchetta, and many other “bloomy” cheeses. I only stumbled across it within the last six months, when on the hunt for the smaller, milder St. Marcellin. I needed something unusual and easy to spread for party guests who would be attempting to simultaneously eat, drink beer, dance to INXS, and mingle in my living room. I bought La Tur as a substitute that day, but now classify it as a crowd-pleaser on par with those aforementioned.

Looking for a culinary fling to break these winter doldrums? La Tur is the missed connection awaiting you at the cheese counter. It is a true gem worth seeking (and raising hell about if your local market doesn’t stock it).

*Amanda began her cheese career in Scotland, and now works at a reputable cheese shop in Washington DC.

I was never a big fan of tits.

Maybe when I was a wee infant, but these days I have absolutely no interest. Women’s tits, elephant tits, it’s all a blur. Even if the coolest dinosaurs had tits, I’d still prefer a frozen daiquri and the newest episode of Project Runway.

Except, sometimes the stuff that comes out of tits is quite interesting.

Goat cheese, for example.

Not the yellowish, hard, rubbery kind that you find in Norway. But the French white kind that tastes of countryside, sunshine and wool.

I am allergic to dairy products, but bring on the pain because when I have guests over, my favorite starter is the Goat’s Tits Surprise. (Surprise as in, “Look what came out of that animal’s titties!”).

It’s an Italian inspired starter, and it goes well with white wine or whatever (talk to someone else about wine, it all tastes the same to me).

Here’s what you need for four peeps:

* A roll of French goat cheese (where are the tits on that goat? I hope this cheese came out of the right orifice!)
* Wholegrain toast bread (white also ok, but I like it more naturific)
* One tomato (maybe two if you’re feeling like more sauce)
* Pine seeds (nuts)
* Fresh basil
* Honey
* White wine vinegar (not in picture)

Start out by turning on your oven to 200˚C (about 400˚F).

Then you can start toasting the loaves like a few minutes on each side. Not too much!

While the toaster is working, let’s make the cold tomato sauce.

Place the tomato(s) in a blender.

Drop a spoonfull of honey into it as well.

Pour about two spoons of white wine vinegar into the blender.

Add salt and pepper. We’re going for a sweet/sour taste.

Press the blend button. It’s been a bad bad fruit and it needs to be punished. (Tomatoes are actually fruits).

By now the mixture should look like this.

Taste it to make sure the balance is right and that it isn’t too sweet or sour.

The toast is done now and ready for honey.

Smear a thin layer of honey on the crusty loaves. I prefer this flowingly golden Danish heather honey which is rare to find during some years and is quite pricey. But it’s superb.

Cut the cheese (!)

Cover the loaves with a good layer of the goat cheese. Don’t be a cheapskate!

Sprinkle a helping of pine nuts on each loaf and stick them in the oven.

200 C for about five minutes. The cheese must be melting and the pine seeds browning. Take them out before they go charcoal.

Pour fine circles of the cold tomato sauce around and on top of each toast. Finish off with a nice basil leaf and serve warm and steamy.

And bon appetit! Experience the magic of breasts!

NB: This might be a whole meal for small drag queens and dwarfs (same thing, I guess), so you can easily cut a loaf in half and serve triangles or even smaller bits. Perfect for those warm Skankynavian summer barbecue nights.

Remember my post about making a Japanese cheesecake? It’s a simple recipe, but very difficult to retain the fluffiness because of all the egg whites. Although it rises high during baking, but it shrinks down like an old person once you take it out of the oven. It’s like taking Viagra before baking: it performs so well while in oven, but as soon as there’s no more “heat,” it shrinks.

Sigh.

Though I haven’t kept up with my numerous battles of perfecting this cheesecake on UM, I have tried about five times. Although it has tasted good each time I’ve made it, it just kept shrinking so much. One time it looked like a piece of fish cake.

So I’ve done a lot of research and found the right oven temp, as well as the correct egg white consistency, as they are some of the most important elements of this recipe.

My previous mistakes were:
1.) Oven temp was completely off. I don’t mean the oven itself, but my brain. For some weird reason, I always thought 350°F = 160°C. It’s actually 180°C (178 to be exact)! No wonder it rose way too quickly and the top part got so dark. Many Japanese recipes for cheesecake says 140°C = 284°F for an hour. So this time, I set the oven at 280°F to take it slow and steady.

2.) Egg whites. There are two opinions. One is to make stiff peaks, and the other is not to do that because egg whites with stiff peaks rises too much and then ends up shrinking too much.

3.) How to mix in the cheese with egg whites. Some say to go gently, which is the general rule of thumb when folding in egg whites. But others say that since egg whites are beaten to stiff peaks, you can abuse them, so use a whisk when mixing. I’ve tried both, and it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

The best recipe I’ve found so far is this:

1 stick (225g-ish) cream cheese
50 g (just a bit shorter than half a stick of) butter
100ml milk
60g cake flour
20g corn starch
1tbsp green tea powder (you can omit if you want to make a regular one)
6 egg yokes
6 egg whites
140g sugar

Some recipe calls for lemon juice, yogurt, or heavy cream, but I like the one above the best.

METHOD

Sift flour, corn starch and matcha powder together. Set aside.

Put butter, cream cheese and milk in a small pot and heat them up until it all melts together.

If the heat is too high, you have to wait a long time for it to cool off, so keep stirring and stop when it’s a creamy consistency.

This is also an important process. Butter the pan, GENEROUSLY. This will help prevent the batter from sticking to the sides (it also helps the cake rise).

Then coat the butter with powder sugar.

Once the cream cheese mixture cools, add egg yolks, the sifted flour mixture, and mix well.

I found these roasted chestnuts at the nearby grocery store. Great thing about this is, it’s only $1.49. Do you know how much a jar of chestnuts cost at Williams-Sonoma? At least $10!

Chop up the nuts and put it on the bottom of the mold.

Now, the egg whites. Unless you have muscles like a professional tennis player, don’t even bother to manually do it. Use an electric or a stand mixer, beat it until you get stiff peaks.

Below is the way some people like, not too stiff. By the way, all the sugar goes in while making the meringue.

This is how I made the meringue. As usual, be sure to use a dry bowl. Even a drop of water in it will destroy the meringue.

Once the egg whites are done, fold in a quarter of it into cheese mixture. Mix well. I used a whisk.

Repeat this, and once you have a quarter of meringue left, add the cheese mixture into the meringue, and mix well. Again, some say to be gentle, and others say to mix it like hell. I went somewhere in the middle.

Pour the batter into the mold. This will be baked in a hot water bath. Be sure to wrap the bottom of the mold with aluminum foil to avoid any seepage.

Put it in a 280°F oven for an hour and 10 minutes. Et voila!

To make it holiday-esque, I brushed some plum jam on top. Green and red, simple, yet elegant. No need to add whip cream or any other crap on this one. Simplicity is the key to this gentle, soft cheese cake.

Nice green color inside.

Umamiporn here.

As you can see, this is not a typical holiday cake. But I say, why not?! It’s very soft, and almost melts in your mouth– so the opposite of a NY-style cheesecake. One bite of that makes you feel like you ate a stick of cheese. But this one, thanks to the egg-whites, is so fluffy. You can definitely eat a quarter of it without thinking about calories.

Think about the benefits of this cake. You eat meat, fish, sides, appetizers, cheese balls, nuts, whatever else during your holiday meal, and you dread the thought of a heavy cake or pie at the end. But at the same time, you feel you are obligated because it’s your grandmother’s secret recipe, or Aunt Linda came all the way from Kentucky with her famous red velvet cake.

Gram, Aunt Linda, make this instead. It’s so light and everyone’s face will brighten up since it’s not smeared with cream.

This is not the easiest recipe because the oven temp and egg whites are pretty sensitive issues. Also every oven has its own character, so you might want to try a couple of times before the big day. If it shrinks too much on the day of the holiday gathering, just serve it as if it’s the way it’s supposed to be. No matter what, it tastes good.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

*Yamahomo is based in NYC and enjoys cooking and baking. He prefers staying in the kitchen all weekend long rather than being outside.

I actually made this a week after the first trial, hence my memory isn’t too clear.

So after the first trial, from when I bought cheese curd at Arthur Avenue in the Bronx, I was determined to make the very best mozzarella. Unfortunately it’s very difficult to find curd in the city. Even a store like Western Beef makes their own mozzarella, but when I inquired if I can get some curd, she was like, “No it is all mine to make cheese with, ain’t gonna give it to ya,”… So i decided to take the long way and started from scratch.

The very best milk you can get in the city is probably Ronnybrook, and fortunately there is the shop at the Chelsea Market where bought a gallon of it. $14 for a gallon?! WTF! This better be good.

As you see, all you need to make mozzarella is a gallon of milk, 2 tea spoons of citric acid (you may apparently substitute with lemon juice), and rennet. I bought rennet online, and 10 tablets for about $10. To make cheese out of a gallon of milk, you need 1/4 of a tablet, so I can make shit load of cheese…

Pour milk into stainless steel pot (can’t use aluminum), and add citric acid. Meanwhile, break rennet and mix it with 1/4 cup of water (they say to use bottled water, but I didn’t have it and used regular tap water). Heat milk to 88 degrees (my candy thermometer starts at 100, so I had to guess), then add rennet mixture, turn the heat off, and wait for 3-5 minutes.

This was pretty amazing how it started curdling up. Looks like tofu, doesn’t it?

Scoop curd up, try to lose as much whey (water) as possible, and pour it into a glass bowl.

Out of a gallon of milk, this is all you get. No wonder cheese is so fatty.

You can use whey for something (don’t know what), but it tasted like sour weird water.

Microwave cheese for about 1 minute, then squeeze more whey out, and repeat this until cheese is too hot to touch. Meanwhile, keep squeezing out the water every time you take it out of microwave.

Once most of the water gets squeezed out, add salt (I think I put about 1tsp) and start stretching. Caution, it’s damn hot, and too bad I didn’t video record this part. This cheese was cursed out.

Stretch and squeeze. You kinda see little speckles, which I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t warm it up enough (though it was hot as hell). More stretch, more stringy cheese, and less stretch, more moist cheese. Also during this part, my apartment smelled like a house with a baby. You know that smell of baby and milk? I barfed a little in my mouth. I don’t like milk, nor that baby house smell.

Seriously $14 gets you this ball? I am going to try with regular milk next time. Flavor wise, it was fine, but I didn’t find Ronnybrook to be that different from any other mozzarella.

Fall has come, and cooking season has started. I will try a couple more times. Meanwhile, if you are in NYC and interested in making your own mozzarella, I can give you a rennet since there’s no way I will use it all up. You can buy citric acid at Zabar’s, or Chelsea Market’s Buona Italia.

Sorry for my long absence. Summer has been occupying me and it’s also too hot to cook anything in particular.

Last weekend, my friend Sal from da Bronx took me to Arthur Avenue. I’ve always wanted to check it out, but was scared to go by myself. It’s da Bronx after all, ya know? Sal was born and raised in da Bronx (how he become a lawyer is a bit of mystery, he might have great “connections”). He guided me through the neighborhood, telling me which stores carries the best cheeses, etc. Sadly, many of his favorite stores (especially the best past’ shop) were closed for the week. But I got pretty awesome fresh ricotta, olive bread that put Amy’s Bread to shame, prosciutto di parma, and fresh pasta.

Italian people’s conversations are funny. When he called his mom to ask for specific store locations, and the conversation went like:

Sal: “Ma, I see two bakeries, which one is the good one?”
Ma: “The one next to the butcher.”
Sal: “Ma, butcher is in between two bakeries.”
Ma: “The one with cashier on the right.”
Sal: “… No Ma, we don’t need to come over for barbecue later.”

Love Italian mothers.

Anyhow, the highlight of the trip was Casa de Mozzarella. I was too scared to take photos since you never know how Italians might react to an Asian taking a photo of them or their store. Their fresh mozzarella was so good, and so huge. But I didn’t buy the finished product.

I’ve been wanting to make my own mozzarella, but never had a chance to buy cheese curd, and I asked if they sell curd, and the guy at the counter was like, “Sure, it’s $3.99 a pound”. So I got two pounds, and came home and started to research around the recipe.

The curd itself looks like a hunk of tofu.

The process is pretty easy. Basically you cut the curd into small pieces, then melt them in hot water, stretch and shape. How easy, right? Not at all. The simpler the ingredients are, the harder to perfect them- which applies to many simple recipes.

Chop into small cubes.

Put cubes into a bowl, add room temperature water.

Here comes a tricky part. Some recipes said, “Do not raise water temperature any more than 170 otherwise you will lose too much milk fat”, and others said, “Put boiling water in it”. I watched a video of a guy teaching a small audience how to make mozzarella, and the fucking video ended right before he started talking about adding boiling water. Goddamn it! So I added 170 degree salted water (about 3-4 tbsp salt in a pot of water). I waited, and waited, then curd started to get soft. Yay!

I should have known, though, that the guy at the cheese shop was stretching cheese as if they were very soft bread dough. This looks like very dense bread dough, which is not a good sign.

After a couple of stretches, I squeezed the ball, and it looks ok here.

Place end product into water.

Tightly wrap them and mozzarella cheese is complete.

Of course it tasted good since the curd is from Casa de Mozzarella/House of Mozzarella, but the texture was horrible. It was similar to kamaboko (Japanese fish cake), and very rubbery. Also I didn’t add enough salt. I was dreaming of having a nice caprese salad, but instead, I gathered my friends and had a pizza party.

You know what happens next right? Yep, I am doing it again, for a Mozzarella Battle! Unfortunately it’s very difficult to find curd in the city, but fortunately, making cheese from milk isn’t hard either (well, according to websites). All you need is whole milk, citric acid, and rennet tablet (whatever it is, I ordered it yesterday). I think citric acid separates milk from water, and rennet solidify the milk into cheese. Let’s see how this comes out. Stay tuned.

We ventured out to Pescadero a few weeks back, which is about an hour south of San Francisco, to visit Harley Farms Goat Dairy. It was such a special Umamiventure- Yoko was here from Tokyo, and Jenny and Mitch from NYC! It was the first time on a goat farm for many of us, and I can say with confidence that we all had a delightful time. Here’s what everyone thought- photos by myself and Thien Vu.

PAMELA
I had such a good time at Harley Goat Farm! Who knew there was another special place in Pescadero besides the Arcangeli bakery!? I had never hung out with goats before. I always thought they were skittish animals, but they’re actually quite friendly and curious like dogs.

PAMELA
We were encouraged to linger with the goats as long as we wanted. I think my very favorite part was hanging out with the babies because I could get down low and hug them and I didn’t fear getting pushed over or nibbled on. As of that day, there were 267 babies, so there were lots of cuddle options.

KAYOKO
There were these cuddly sheep and llamas too!

The sheep sort of kept to themselves, despite the fact that all I wanted to do was snuggle with them. The llamas, however, were super friendly and loved the attention. Janet, our tour guide, said that they are natural born watchmen and protect the goats from predators- such as coyotes. Llamas are quite graceful, gorgeous creatures.

THIEN
Everyone on the farm is so nice and friendly. Even though it’s clear that there is always a ton of things to do on the farm, anyone will pretty much stop and chat with you to answer your questions.

YOKO
Milking the teet of a goat was the highlight of the Harley Goat Farm Tour. For $20 a person, the tour included a chance to frolic with goat and sheep, smell their excrement, milk their teets, visit the cheese making facility and taste the cheese in their magically rustic barn turned dining hall.

Milking a goat required a simple motion where you make an “OK” gesture with your hand, put the teet in the “O” part, and tighten. Once the “O” part is firmly gripping the teet, the middle, index and pinky finger (in that order) wrap around the teet.

Milking facility.

YOKO
There were about 30 people on the tour so I only got to milk one teet, once. The task was very hands-on and satisfying as the product (goat milk) appeared right in front of you. I wouldn’t mind envisioning a life of milking teets at five in the morning everyday.

THIEN
Milking a goat is fun.

PAMELA
Oh, and my other favorite part was eating Harley’s signature Monet cheese that our tour guide had just put together in front of our eyes. It was so fresh and smooth, with a layer of herbs in the middle that complemented the sweetness of the cheese. We got to eat different all sorts of different cheeses to our hearts’ and tummies’ content. I didn’t want it to end!

Seperating the cheese from the whey.


Harley’s award-winning Monet cheese.

YOKO
The barn turned dining hall was also a highlight of the tour. A long dining table that was a slice of a huge oak tree was the centerpiece. The slab of wood was curvy, kind of like the long curvy roads of 84 that took us to Pescadero. The chairs were also curvy.

YOKO
The whole atmosphere of the dining hall reminded me of Tim Burton’s A Nightmare Before Christmas (the country barn version). It was really imaginative and cozy. The next time I make the trip out to Pescadero I would really like to try the $120 evening meal at this barn.

Besides the long, motion sickness-inducing road that leads to Pescadero (don’t eat In-and-Out beforehand), I would totally recommend a visit to Harley Goat Farms. The cheese is amazingly smooth and the staff (and goats) are really friendly and pleasant. Lending me some of their vibrant energy was definitely worth the $20.

JENNY
Harley goat farm was such an amazing experience!! Normally I’m skeptical about arranged tours but it was great to experience every step of the operation, from seeing how the goats live, to milking… to chevre! As an eater, I think any opportunity to see how food is made and produced is incredibly valuable- and tasting that goat cheese on the premises made it all the more pure in flavor and experience.

THIEN
It’s a very green farm in the middle of the Bay Area – which used to be a farming area, but it’s thought of more as the Silicon Valley now. The amount of effort that they put into being green and sustainable is amazing.

KAYOKO
This visit was certainly a fantastic, hands-on learning experience, from start to finish. Definitely book your spot in advance- the tours fill up quite quickly, and they can get quite large (there were nearly 30 people in our group!).

Thanks to everyone who made it out, to Harley Farms for accommodating all of us, and to Janet for a great tour. We’ll be back!

More photos of the trip by ChimChow and softglowingsun.

*Umamiventures are organized monthly, traveling far and wide in search of good, cheap grub. Join the UM Facebook Fan Page to stay updated on all future events. Hope to see you soon!