Dr Tomostyle food,
travel and lifestyle blogger, tweeted that ‘in Japan, autumn is referred to as
'Shokuyoku no Aki' 食欲の秋, roughly translated to 'Autumn of Hearty
Appetites'’.
This intimate connection between food and seasons is universal; be it Japan, Italy or Lebanon our appetites are triggered by changes in the weather and the available produce.
High up in the
mountains of North Lebanon, as autumn draws near, the air becomes cooler and calmness
sets in when the summer buzz is over; the season is heralded with a deliciously
pungent goat’s cheese, which people eat rolled in thin village bread - markouk or tannour.
Made with unpasteurised
milk, darfieh cheese relies on an
ancient method of maturation inside a darf,
or goat’s skin. Had it not been for this fact, darfieh is almost too simple to prepare. Goat herders, who make it,
first add a starter culture either of goat’s rennet or dried goats’ colostrum (which
gives the cheese its distinct flavour).
They then leave the raw milk in 30 to
35°C ambient temperature until liquids and solids separate. They strain the
mixture and mold the solids in chunks, which they salt and allow to drain
further. They heat the remaining liquid or lacto serum until a further
separation occurs thus producing a granulated cheese similar to ricotta, called arishe, and otherwise eaten sweetened with sugar or honey.
The procedure takes an interesting turn when they
clean a goat’s skin, and rub its inner side with salt. The pores act as a sieve
slowly releasing water and allowing fermentation. They skillfully tie the skin
to form a pouch leaving one small opening to allow them to fill it with layers
of cheese and arishe. Securely tied,
the darf is left for 3 to 6 months on
wooden slats in a dark and damp store.
Cheese taken out of the dare or goat skin
At the outset, this white cheese is soft and has a
distinct goaty taste; as it matures, it becomes harder and the taste more
peppery and complex. The cheese keeps in glass jars in the fridge for several
months.
A regional delicacy unknown to city dwellers, darfieh is linked in the minds of people
born in the North of Lebanon to end of summer memories and frugal evening
meals. The silhouettes of the herders’ wives carrying their goatskin bundle cut
through the fog in the afternoon as they wandered down to the village to sell
their cheese. Today the Slow Food
movement in Beirut is slowly placing it on the Lebanese food map with plans to
help improve both pasture and production.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.