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Thread: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

  1. #1
    Victor Sack Guest

    Default Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Go Ahead, Milk My Day
    By SAM ANDERSON
    International Herald Tribune

    Buffalo mozzarella is the Great White Whale of American cheesemaking: a
    dream so exotic and powerful that it drives otherwise sensible people
    into ruinous monomaniacal quests. Despite all the recent triumphs of our
    country's foodie movement (heirloom-turkey-sausage saffron Popsicles;
    cardamom paprika mayonnaise foam), no one in the United States has, as
    of yet, figured out how to recreate precisely this relatively simple Old
    World delicacy -- a food with essentially one ingredient (buffalo milk)
    that is made every day in Italy. Over the last 15 years, in fact, the
    attempt to make authentic buffalo mozzarella -- to nail both its taste
    and texture -- has destroyed businesses from Vermont to Los Angeles. It
    seems truly doomed. "A Polar wind blows through it," Melville might have
    written about it, if he had been a food writer, "and birds of prey hover
    over it."

    At the risk of straining the analogy, you could call me the Ishmael of
    this quest.

    I do not, normally, have foodie tendencies. I grew up loving tuna
    casserole covered in potato chips, and roughly two-thirds of my body
    weight is ketchup. I have never tasted caviar or foie gras. And yet
    something about buffalo mozzarella calls to me. Ever since I discovered
    the cheese's existence, sometime in my 20s, I've thought about it, and
    eaten it, probably more than is good for me. It's one of the only foods
    that I'll order, automatically, whenever I see it on a menu. Once, years
    ago, apropos of nothing, I made my family take a road trip to visit a
    buffalo dairy in Vermont -- a dairy whose insanely expensive
    buffalo-milk yogurt I was spending a large portion of my tiny income on.
    That dairy, inevitably, went out of business several years later, which
    saved me plenty of money but caused me an equal amount of emotional
    pain.

    If this seems like a lot of hubbub over an obscure variant of a readily
    available cheese, it is not. Fresh mozzarella di bufala is one of the
    miracles of Italian cuisine. It's exactly like regular mozzarella except
    that it's made with milk squeezed out of a buffalo -- which is a little
    like saying that the Hope diamond is exactly like a plastic replica of
    the Hope diamond except that it's made out of priceless crystallized
    carbon. Buffalo milk has roughly twice the fat of cow milk, which makes
    it decadently creamy and flavorful. The good stuff is almost
    unrealistically soft -- it seems like the reason the word "mouthfeel"
    was invented -- with a depth of flavor that makes even the freshest
    hand-pulled artisanal cow-milk mozzarella taste like glorified string
    cheese. Buffalo mozzarella is the apotheosis of dairy: the golden mean
    between yogurt and custard and cottage cheese and heavy cream and
    ricotta. It lives (along with clouds and mercury and lava and photons
    and quicksand) on the mystical border between solid and liquid.
    Descriptions of it tend toward poetry. "When cut," the cheesemonger
    Steven Jenkins has written, "it will weep its own whey with a sweet,
    beckoning, lactic aroma."

    Why, then, is it so impossible to get truly fresh buffalo mozzarella in
    the United States? Well, there are all kinds of reasons.

    Consider, first off, the conditions in Italy, which are basically
    perfect. Water buffalo have lived in the hills around Naples for around
    1,000 years. (To be clear: these are not the big, brown, wild, hairy
    bison of the American prairies; they're the smooth, dark, curly-horned
    beasts you might expect to see in a documentary about rice farming in
    China.) One Italian cheesemaker told me that the animals first came to
    Italy when Hannibal used them to carry his war treasure back from Asia
    -- a story that is historically dubious but does manage to capture the
    cheese's almost mythic exoticism. After so many centuries of practice,
    modern Italians have buffalo dairying down to a science: animal
    genetics, human expertise, farming infrastructure -- it's all in place
    and perfectly integrated. If you walk into a shop in Naples and ask for
    mozzarella, you will get a ball of buffalo milk that probably congealed
    only hours before. (For the vastly inferior cow's-milk version -- the
    default in American stores -- you have to ask by a whole different name:
    fior di latte.)

    Italy is a quintessentially Old World country -- a quilt of
    microregions, each fiercely loyal to its own traditions and cuisines --
    which means that it's perfectly natural to expect your cheese to have
    been made locally that day. This expectation has been woven so deeply
    into the fabric of daily life, by so many generations of cheese eaters,
    that the market for it is guaranteed. And Italy is small enough that, if
    you do move a fresh product from one major city to the next, it takes
    only a couple of hours.

    The conditions in the United States are the opposite of that. Our
    water-buffalo herds are sparse and, for the purposes of dairying,
    practically feral. They're difficult to acquire and expensive to raise.
    They produce only a fraction of the milk you get from a typical dairy
    cow, and they are so psychologically fragile that it's hard to even get
    that much out of them.

    Once you do get milk, it's hard to know exactly what to do with it. The
    Old World secrets of mozzarella production have mostly stayed in the Old
    World; I've yet to eat a ball of the domestically produced stuff that
    even begins to compare. (It tends to be rubbery, like a giant white
    pencil eraser.)

    Then there's the problem of distribution. Our country is huge:
    essentially 31 Italys glued together. Our food system, accordingly, is
    organized around supermarkets, which favor processed foods with long
    shelf lives, not fragile cheeses intended to be eaten within hours of
    their making. Many Americans don't even know that buffalo mozzarella is
    a thing: we've developed a taste for hard little vacuum-packed balls of
    nearly flavorless cow's milk that we can melt easily over pizza.

    All of which combines to make the economics of water-buffalo dairying in
    the United States totally brutal.

    Of course, Ahab, rather famously, didn't stop sailing just because
    Moby-Dick was hard to find. If anything, that made him only more
    obsessive.

    Enter Craig Ramini, the latest American adventurer hellbent on making
    fresh buffalo mozzarella -- one of the very few people in the United
    States currently brave or foolish enough to do so.

    In August, very early one morning, I drove out to Ramini's farm, 60
    miles north of San Francisco, in the tiny coastal town of Tomales. (He
    rents a 25-acre corner of a larger ranch, a hill or two away from the
    Pacific Ocean, that has been in the same family for generations.) I
    drove between rows of eucalyptus trees weeping mist, and although I had
    come to see the buffalo, I was still surprised when I saw them -- after
    miles and miles of cows, they looked like prehistoric beasts lost in the
    fog.

    Ramini is tall and slim, a former college shortstop; he wore khaki cargo
    pants and a white Ralph Lauren shirt. He's relatively new to the world
    of cheese, and his road there was unorthodox. He spent most of the last
    decade working in Silicon Valley, where his specialty was hooking up hot
    young programmers with the big corporations that needed their digital
    services. In the summer of 2009, however, at age 51, Ramini had an
    epiphany. He decided he wanted to change his life, and he proceeded to
    do so in a very Silicon Valley way: he stuck Post-it notes all over one
    wall of his house to form (as he put it) "a Mind Map of happiness and
    fulfillment." Three clusters of Post-its emerged: large animals,
    entrepreneurship and Italian food. (Ramini's grandfather, an immigrant
    from Italy, owned an Italian restaurant that Ramini spent a lot of time
    in as a child.) Buffalo mozzarella, Ramini realized, was a hole in the
    market that happened to lie right at the intersection of his happiness
    clusters. Although he was not, at the time, a great fan of cheese, and
    he had never interacted with a water buffalo, he decided that this was
    his new calling. He leapt into the project as if he were developing an
    app. It became clear to him almost immediately, however, that Northern
    California was not Italy and that buffalo mozzarella wasn't going to
    behave like a dot-com start-up. Ramini has spent three years getting
    over the most basic hurdles: assembling enough animals (he has a herd of
    44) and coaxing milk out of them (he had to redesign his barn and
    stalls, and he's still taking in only 60 gallons of milk a week -- about
    a ninth of his goal) -- and beginning the daunting process of turning
    that milk into perfectly formed cheese. There have been some disastrous
    moments and plenty of sleepless nights. The first few months' worth of
    batches weren't even close to being viable. So he hired two Italian
    cheese consultants to help guide him. Although he says the product is
    improving, he still hasn't been able to get it right. When I visited
    him, he had yet to sell a single ball of mozzarella.

    At his farm, Ramini helped me into tall rubber boots, guided me through
    an antiseptic boot wash and then welcomed me into his cheese factory.
    The word "factory," in this case, is probably a little grand: there were
    only two tiny rooms -- 250 square feet altogether -- with a concrete
    floor, stainless-steel tables and white-tile walls. ("A lot of what I'm
    doing," Ramini said, "is trying to be clever with limited space.") It
    felt like a cross between a restaurant kitchen, a science lab, an
    operating room and a prison cell. Ramini and I stayed in that space,
    just the two of us, with only a few short breaks, for the next 11 hours.

    Buffalo milk is about 80 percent water, and turning it into cheese
    involves getting rid of most of that. The cheesemaking day turns out to
    operate on a similar ratio: 80 percent idle time, 20 percent action. You
    note a temperature or sprinkle some bacterial powder, then sit around
    for 90 minutes, then note another temperature, then sit around again.
    Ramini and I endured long stretches of silence. Sometimes it felt as if
    we were in an avant-garde play. We stared out the window to watch a pair
    of Black Angus calves trying to nurse from a Holstein mother. Meanwhile,
    Ramini's small batch of precious milk, collected painstakingly over the
    previous three days, heated and cooled and churned and curdled and
    drained its whey in a stainless-steel vat.

    Between the silences, Ramini told me things: facts, biography, business
    plans, dreams. Buffalo semen, he said, arrives from Italy in a container
    of liquid nitrogen that looks like R2-D2. A buffalo cervix comprises
    three concentric rings. Buffaloes don't moo; they bark like seals. At
    some point Ramini gave me a cup of fresh buffalo milk, which was
    pleasantly rich and coated the inside of my mouth. We drank coffee with
    buffalo milk in it and exchanged stories about Larry Bird. Ramini grew
    up "a country-club kid" from Massachusetts, the son of a doctor who had
    courtside seats during the Celtics' glory days. After a few hours, I
    found myself fluent in the esoterica of cheese: agitators, stretch
    testing, pH windows, rennet, airspace probes. Eventually, the fog burned
    off, exposing a layer of blue that had apparently been there all along.

    That day, Ramini was tweaking his recipe -- more starter culture, lower
    temperatures -- in hopes that his final product would be a little more
    tender. "The elusive thing," he said, "is softness."

    There's a metaphor there, perhaps.

    Ramini admits to having the classic Silicon Valley personality -- Type
    A, obsessive, self-promoting -- and this has not always gone over well
    with the laid-back, lower-profile, communally spirited artisanal
    cheesemakers in the Bay Area. Ramini is media-savvy and has somehow
    managed to generate national attention before producing any first-rate
    cheese. ("That's catchy," he said about my Great White Whale theory of
    buffalo mozzarella. "I wish I had thought of that myself. I'd have been
    using it for over a year now.") He seems to see many of his
    artisanal-cheese-world competitors as financially na´ve, given the fact
    that, despite all their high principles and fellow-feeling, they can't
    afford to quit their day jobs because they manage to give away so many
    of their profits to middlemen. Ramini's goals are more ambitious: to
    fill his 79-gallon vat with buffalo milk every single day, turn it into
    perfect mozzarella and sell it directly to restaurants and consumers,
    with no middlemen, for $35 a pound -- a plan that he calculates would
    yield around $1.5 million a year and set him up for the rest of his
    life.

    "I haven't met a cheesemaker yet who says, 'That's a brilliant idea,'"
    Ramini told me. "Tuning out part of the community was not in my
    business plan. It's an unforeseen challenge."

    When the fog finally rolled back in, around 6 p.m., Ramini had turned
    his batch of milk into 30 wet white bricks of mozzarella curd -- the raw
    material of one of the most elusive cheeses on earth.

    He crumbled one of the brick's edges into rough little chunks, over
    which he poured hot water. The first batch didn't act right -- the
    chunks wouldn't cohere -- so Ramini waited 20 minutes and tried again.
    It didn't work. He waited 20 more minutes, then 20 more. On the fifth
    try, the curds did exactly what he wanted them to: they fused together
    and got stretchy and soft, and Ramini squeezed them into a smooth, pure
    white ball that looked like the real Italian thing. He sliced it. We
    tried it. It tasted good, like the milk, but it was rubbery, squeaky
    against our teeth -- very much not Italian. The elusive softness eluded
    him still.

    Ramini says texture is the final hurdle, and while he's confident that
    he will get over it eventually, he has little idea when that's going to
    happen or who's going to help him or where that person might be. He's
    planning a trip to Italy, with a local chef, in hopes that someone there
    might give him the answer.

    After my trip to Ramini's farm, I spoke with Raffaele Mascolo, a cheese
    consultant who is originally from Naples but now lives in Wisconsin.
    Mascolo was one of the Italian experts who worked, for a couple of
    weeks, with Ramini. Together they managed to produce, Mascolo told me,
    "decent" mozzarella. He praised Ramini's intelligence and passion but
    said that, in spite of those qualities, it could still take him a lot of
    time -- another year or two, maybe -- to produce consistently
    high-quality mozzarella. It's not the world's most difficult cheese,
    Mascolo said, but it's also not something you can rush.

    We were talking via Skype, and Mascolo left the screen for a minute. He
    came back with a handful of cheeses he had made -- caciocavallo and
    caciotta -- to show me. At one point he popped a small ball of
    mozzarella (made in Minnesota out of a blend of cow and goat cheese)
    into his mouth and actually exclaimed, "Mamma mia!" He showed me a
    wooden statue of a water buffalo that he keeps in his home. "This is my
    God," he said.

    I recognized, I thought, a familiar glint in his eye, and sure enough,
    toward the end of our conversation, Mascolo told me that he was thinking
    about getting into the buffalo-mozzarella business. When I asked him for
    details, he was mysterious, but the look was still there, as was the
    surge of hope in my heart. As Melville the food writer might have put
    it: "Such is the endlessness, yea, the intolerableness of all earthly
    effort."

  2. #2
    Steve Pope Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Victor Sack <[email protected]> wrote:

    > Go Ahead, Milk My Day
    > By SAM ANDERSON
    > International Herald Tribune


    Thanks Victor, interesting article.

    Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    quit making it unfortunately.


    Steve

  3. #3
    The Other Guy Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    (Steve Pope) wrote:

    >Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >quit making it unfortunately.


    Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..

    1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.

    Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!









    To reply by email, lose the Ks...


  4. #4
    Steve Pope Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    The Other Guy <[email protected]> wrote:

    >On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    >(Steve Pope) wrote:
    >
    >>Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >>was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >>quit making it unfortunately.

    >
    >Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..
    >
    >1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    >2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    >3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.
    >
    >Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!


    There is actually no shortage of real buffalo mozzarella. But
    there is nothing being produced in the U.S. (yet, according
    to the article Victor posted).

    They make gigantic quanties of it in Campania. I mean, gigantic.

    Steve

  5. #5
    Roy Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Friday, October 12, 20

    Victor: try this site:

    http://www.fairburnwaterbuffalo.com/...a-di-bufala,19

    Maybe some answers for your friends.






  6. #6
    Ed Pawlowski Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 17:12:43 -0700, The Other Guy
    <[email protected]> wrote:

    >On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    >(Steve Pope) wrote:
    >
    >>Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >>was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >>quit making it unfortunately.

    >
    >Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..
    >
    >1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    >2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    >3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.
    >
    >Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!
    >


    Did you see the shipping costs? $25 for the small pieces, $33 for the
    6 pounds.

    The real stuff is fabulous though, nothing like the imitation stuff
    that is made here. We bought it every other day at a grocery store
    when we stayed in Santa Maria deCastellebate.

    Our dinner most nights was bread, cheese, assorted meats and wine.
    Can't wait to go back.


  7. #7
    Brooklyn1 Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:16:28 -0400, Ed Pawlowski <[email protected]> wrote:

    >On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 17:12:43 -0700, The Other Guy
    ><[email protected]> wrote:
    >
    >>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    >>(Steve Pope) wrote:
    >>
    >>>Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >>>was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >>>quit making it unfortunately.

    >>
    >>Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..
    >>
    >>1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    >>2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    >>3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.
    >>
    >>Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!
    >>

    >
    >Did you see the shipping costs? $25 for the small pieces, $33 for the
    >6 pounds.
    >
    >The real stuff is fabulous though, nothing like the imitation stuff
    >that is made here. We bought it every other day at a grocery store
    >when we stayed in Santa Maria deCastellebate.
    >
    >Our dinner most nights was bread, cheese, assorted meats and wine.
    >Can't wait to go back.


    You can buy all those items right near to where you live, there are
    many places in NYC but I'm sure you can find a good Italian deli
    nearer.

  8. #8
    Steve Pope Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Brooklyn1 <Gravesend1> wrote:
    >On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:16:28 -0400, Ed Pawlowski <[email protected]> wrote:
    >
    >>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 17:12:43 -0700, The Other Guy
    >><[email protected]> wrote:
    >>
    >>>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    >>>(Steve Pope) wrote:
    >>>
    >>>>Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >>>>was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >>>>quit making it unfortunately.
    >>>
    >>>Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..
    >>>
    >>>1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    >>>2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    >>>3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.
    >>>
    >>>Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!
    >>>

    >>
    >>Did you see the shipping costs? $25 for the small pieces, $33 for the
    >>6 pounds.
    >>
    >>The real stuff is fabulous though, nothing like the imitation stuff
    >>that is made here. We bought it every other day at a grocery store
    >>when we stayed in Santa Maria deCastellebate.
    >>
    >>Our dinner most nights was bread, cheese, assorted meats and wine.
    >>Can't wait to go back.

    >
    >You can buy all those items right near to where you live, there are
    >many places in NYC but I'm sure you can find a good Italian deli
    >nearer.


    True, although the the type of fresh buffalo mozzarella that is
    intended to be refrigerator-stable for a few weeks is not quite the
    same as the absolutely fresh stuff.

    For the real thing, absent being in Campania, you can go to one of the
    locations of Obika. (Perhaps six locations in north America.)
    Probably a handful of big-city Italian delis fly it in also.

    Steve

  9. #9
    Brooklyn1 Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Sat, 13 Oct 2012 18:22:30 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    (Steve Pope) wrote:

    >Brooklyn1 <Gravesend1> wrote:
    >>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:16:28 -0400, Ed Pawlowski <[email protected]> wrote:
    >>
    >>>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 17:12:43 -0700, The Other Guy
    >>><[email protected]> wrote:
    >>>
    >>>>On Fri, 12 Oct 2012 23:43:07 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]
    >>>>(Steve Pope) wrote:
    >>>>
    >>>>>Tagentially, I think the "Bubalis Bubalis" buffalo mozzarella that
    >>>>>was made in California for a few years was quite good. But, they did
    >>>>>quit making it unfortunately.
    >>>>
    >>>>Amazon has a number choices in real buffalo mozz..
    >>>>
    >>>>1 is $7.50 for 7 ounces,
    >>>>2nd is almost $13.45 for 8 ounces,
    >>>>3rd is $24.99 for 2 8 ounce balls.
    >>>>
    >>>>Then there is the 6.6 pound piece for $115!!
    >>>>
    >>>
    >>>Did you see the shipping costs? $25 for the small pieces, $33 for the
    >>>6 pounds.
    >>>
    >>>The real stuff is fabulous though, nothing like the imitation stuff
    >>>that is made here. We bought it every other day at a grocery store
    >>>when we stayed in Santa Maria deCastellebate.
    >>>
    >>>Our dinner most nights was bread, cheese, assorted meats and wine.
    >>>Can't wait to go back.

    >>
    >>You can buy all those items right near to where you live, there are
    >>many places in NYC but I'm sure you can find a good Italian deli
    >>nearer.

    >
    >True, although the the type of fresh buffalo mozzarella that is
    >intended to be refrigerator-stable for a few weeks is not quite the
    >same as the absolutely fresh stuff.
    >
    >For the real thing, absent being in Campania, you can go to one of the
    >locations of Obika. (Perhaps six locations in north America.)
    >Probably a handful of big-city Italian delis fly it in also.
    >
    >Steve


    You can buy the real deal all over NYC... fresh mozz is very common,
    so are all types of sausages, there are many cottage industries that
    supply all those Italian delis. And NYC bakeries bake the best bread
    on the planet. The Italian specialties are much better in Brooklyn
    than in Italy.

  10. #10
    Steve Pope Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Brooklyn1 <Gravesend1> wrote:

    >On Sat, 13 Oct 2012 18:22:30 +0000 (UTC), [email protected]


    >>True, although the the type of fresh buffalo mozzarella that is
    >>intended to be refrigerator-stable for a few weeks is not quite the
    >>same as the absolutely fresh stuff.


    >>For the real thing, absent being in Campania, you can go to one of the
    >>locations of Obika. (Perhaps six locations in north America.)
    >>Probably a handful of big-city Italian delis fly it in also.


    >You can buy the real deal all over NYC... fresh mozz is very common,
    >so are all types of sausages, there are many cottage industries that
    >supply all those Italian delis. And NYC bakeries bake the best bread
    >on the planet. The Italian specialties are much better in Brooklyn
    >than in Italy.


    Sure, there is fresh mozzarella all over NYC, but any fresh
    *buffalo* mozzarella is shipped over from Italy, and it intended
    to have a shelf life of 3 weeks or so. So it is made in a somewhat
    different fashion -- less moisture, more salt. The stuff that Obika flies
    in on a weekly basis is much better. Trust me.


    Steve

  11. #11
    Susan Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    x-no-archive: yes

    On 10/12/2012 11:16 PM, Ed Pawlowski wrote:

    > Did you see the shipping costs? $25 for the small pieces, $33 for the
    > 6 pounds.
    >
    > The real stuff is fabulous though, nothing like the imitation stuff
    > that is made here. We bought it every other day at a grocery store
    > when we stayed in Santa Maria deCastellebate.
    >
    > Our dinner most nights was bread, cheese, assorted meats and wine.
    > Can't wait to go back.
    >


    Costco carries a beautiful Italian buffalo mozzarella. #13.99 for what
    I think is more than a lb, but not sure. It's a quart container with
    water and approx. 3.5- 4 oz balls of cheese in it.

    Susan

  12. #12
    Jim Elbrecht Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    [email protected] (Steve Pope) wrote:

    -snip-
    >
    >Sure, there is fresh mozzarella all over NYC, but any fresh
    >*buffalo* mozzarella is shipped over from Italy, and it intended
    >to have a shelf life of 3 weeks or so. So it is made in a somewhat
    >different fashion -- less moisture, more salt. The stuff that Obika flies
    >in on a weekly basis is much better. Trust me.


    Or it might come from Quebec-
    http://www.bufaladivermont.com/find-a-store.html#new york

    Jim

  13. #13
    Steve Pope Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Jim Elbrecht <elbrecht@email.co[email protected]> wrote:
    >[email protected] (Steve Pope) wrote:
    >
    >-snip-
    >>
    >>Sure, there is fresh mozzarella all over NYC, but any fresh
    >>*buffalo* mozzarella is shipped over from Italy, and it intended
    >>to have a shelf life of 3 weeks or so. So it is made in a somewhat
    >>different fashion -- less moisture, more salt. The stuff that Obika flies
    >>in on a weekly basis is much better. Trust me.

    >
    >Or it might come from Quebec-
    >http://www.bufaladivermont.com/find-a-store.html#new york


    Thanks.

    Steve


  14. #14
    George M. Middius Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Brooklyn1 wrote:

    > You can buy the real deal all over NYC... fresh mozz is very common


    Why are all American versions tasteless?



  15. #15
    Ed Pawlowski Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    On Sun, 14 Oct 2012 11:23:22 -0400, George M. Middius
    <[email protected]> wrote:

    >Brooklyn1 wrote:
    >
    >> You can buy the real deal all over NYC... fresh mozz is very common

    >
    >Why are all American versions tasteless?
    >


    First, they use cow's milk and not water buffalo.

    Fresh mozz is easy to find, water buffalo milk, not so much.

  16. #16
    George M. Middius Guest

    Default Re: Go Ahead, Milk My Day

    Ed Pawlowski wrote:

    > >> You can buy the real deal all over NYC... fresh mozz is very common

    > >
    > >Why are all American versions tasteless?


    > First, they use cow's milk and not water buffalo.
    > Fresh mozz is easy to find, water buffalo milk, not so much.


    It wasn't really a question. More of a gripe.

    But there's hope on the horizon:

    <http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/14/magazine/buffalo-mozzarella-craig-ramini.html>


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