The farmer’s market on Saturday seemed just more of the same — more roots, more greens, more, well, February. I’d seen it all before. Then I turned a corner, and discovered, glowing brightly in the sunshine, a jar filled with orbs of fresh mozzarella. At River Valley Ranch, mozzarella is made each day from the morning’s milking of their buffalo, cows and goats. The cow’s milk mozzarella on sale at the market was yesterday morning’s milk.
This cheese was so fresh that it squeaked under the knife, and between the teeth. It was so milky and sweet and tangy that I could have eaten the entire ball all on its own. I was tempted, but the cheese was asking for something more. As it’s February, there were no vine-ripened tomatoes, no fresh basil to be had. But there was good, crusty bread for toasting, and balsamic vinegar for drizzling, and those rounds of soft cheese… and one late February day that was not just more of the same.
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Oh, heavenly! I want some.
That is some good looking cheese. At first I thought it was snow balls.
Oh YUM! I have some basil that is just screaming for a slice of that mozza