An Amish gouda captures hearts and stomachs along the Eastern seaboard and beyond
Jake Stoltzfus didn’t grow up dreaming of cheesemaking. By the time he made his first batch of cheese in 2011, he and his wife Sylvia had already raised 11 children and relocated from Pennsylvania to Deansboro, New York, where they purchased a 200-acre farm with plans to eventually pass it down to their sons.
But as the kids grew up, Jake began thinking about what else he could do with the high-quality milk from his herd. “I didn’t know how to make cheese,” he says. “I just wanted to do something with my own product.”
That impulse led him to Harold Schuller, a Dutch equipment representative who told Jake plainly that he needed to make gouda. Jake took his advice—along with a trip to the Netherlands—and returned home ready to give it a go. Drawing on traditional methods—raw cow’s milk, cultures from Holland, and a breathable coating instead of a vacuum seal—Jake started producing gouda in a modest basement creamery.
Jake and Sylvia took their time, slowly aging wheels to develop a rich, caramel flavor and crystalline texture. It wasn’t until about three years in that Jake realized they had something special. “We had people begging for the cheese,” he recalls. “Distributors were calling, and restaurants wanted more than we could make.” The demand quickly outpaced production, pushing Jake to expand to a larger facility.
Today, Jake makes cheese four days a week using warm, morning milk from the family’s dairy—now owned by his son—just up the road. “You sort of have to have your own dairy if you want to make cheese that way,” Jake says. The wheels are aged for at least 11 months, turned daily on pine planks imported from Holland, and sold to a growing fan base across the Northeast.
Jake still makes every batch himself—and still eats it every day. “I like it just plain,” he says. “That aged gouda is a snack all by itself.”


