Hard Cheese
I’m not bitter
about it, but as I write this, Will Fertman is embarking on my trip to Veneto, Italy. When the Italian Trade Commission had to change the dates of this proposed press junket, it created a conflict for me; and Will was self-sacrificing enough to take (think steal) the journey. Still, I wish him safe travels and eagerly await vicarious travels through Veneto along with our readers here on our new blog.
Far from a total loss for me, while Will was packing his laptop, Flip camera, and favorite Italian cheese-tasting attire, I did get to go to Alphabet City in Manhattan, try some Uzbek cheese, and hang out with my new doc filmmaker friends from the What Took You So Long Foundation. They are mid-process on a film project about the significance of the camel as a dairy animal in lesser-known parts of the world, and they were in NYC on the first leg of a fund raising and PR tour.
Sleepy and bedraggled from their long, low-budget journey from Uzbekistan to NYC via Moscow and London, Sebastian Lindstrom and Alica Sully hosted a small gathering at The Blind Barber on 10th Street near Ave. B, where they played footage from the film in progress and brought some Uzbek cheeses to share with their guests.
There were some fairly simple, cow’s milk cheeses that reminded me of gouda, but with less complexity and flavor; and there were these unusual, ball-shaped, white cheeses called kourt that, for me anyway, had the consistency and flavor of chalk infused with pure citric acid. Perhaps this was simply the bitter taste of envy over, y’know, the Veneto thing; but others seemed to enjoy these delicacies that, I am told, the Uzbeks will pop whole into their mouths like crunchy snack foods, often accompanied by beer.
Although Uzbek cheese is unlikely to wind up on my personal appetizer list, I’m intrigued by the efforts of these young filmmakers because the idea that cheese is infused with human history is, in fact, part of why we call our magazine culture. Cheers!


Ham, candy and the Bard
I was reminded of the Bard's words when we were passing the Capulet's ancestral castle on the way to the King's Prosciutto factory. David has no reason to be jealous at all.
Thus far, the trip has been incredible. Our first stop was the factory, where I got meat video to beat the band.
King's makes dozens of kinds of salted pork, including an insanely velvety young Veneto prosciutto which you can see and imagine tasting at the end of the video, and the charming minispeck, for when regular speck would be ostentatious. Most fascinating of all are the many types of ham clamps employed to keep prosciutto pressed and stable while aging and cutting.

The video also has cameo appearances from the three serious food buyers on the trip: Louis Coluccio from D. Coluccio & Sons, Steven Damiani from Uncle Giuseppe's, and Peter Todaro from Todaro Brothers. They've forgotten more about food and cheese between them than I will ever know, and I'll be exploiting their expertise throughout the trip.
Anyway, it's late over here, and I haven't even told you about the trip to the candy factory. I guess I'll have to save it for tomorrow. David, I'll bring you some back, so you can suck on it.
Apologies to everyone
I misspelled "prosciutto" in the titles of the video: I am a monster.
Misspellings
Not a monster. That's just the kind of slapdash, shoddy work that comes from trying to type and gloat at the same time.
It's great to see the blog up
It's great to see the blog up and running. Will, you should try to pretend the trip is awful so Dave doesn't feel so bad.
Candy Candy Candy
So as I mentioned, we visited the Mandorlato candy factory. It's a simple confection: add honey to sugar, heat and stir until just right, throw in white (white, not brown) toasted almonds, and stuff in your face.
Hot, it can't be beat. Cold, I dunno-- I was eating hot Mandorlato right out of the vat.
Even as I endure the further horrors of an Italian cheese competition and a trip through ancient Venice, the sweet taste of honey lingers...
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