Making cheese with feeling...

Over the last few years ACDI/VOCA has regularly sent me to Armenia to assist dairy plants adapting soft cheese production. It is not all that different in method from the traditional cheese, called Lori or Chanagh, except there is a need to retain more moisture in the curd before and after pressing. Generally, soft cheeses call for larger curd particles and less stirring over a shorter period of time. For the Armenian cheese makers, that can appear to be a questionable procedure.

I was on my way to two cheese plants near Goris in the southern part of Armenia with my translator and trusted assistant, Gayane, and I was talking to her about how to get the two cheese masters to understand that our type of cheese did not require brute strength but rather a certain gentleness. Our driver was saying, "Good luck! Have you seen the muscles on Armand at the Elola plant or Kimik’s at Balaki"?

Actually, we were more like a three-man team, because the driver of our USDA SUV had become a partner over many such trips. His name was Ashot, and besides being an exceptional driver, he had a passion for music. In particular, he had developed a fondness for Gounod’s "Ave Maria", and he had a CD with several different versions; in fact, the entire CD was "Ave Maria". My place in the SUV was always in the back, and there I would quietly drop off to sleep to the stirring sounds of "Ave Maria". I got to like the rendition by the Russian soprano, Taranova. I have listened to "Ave Maria" for hours on end, from Yerevan to the Georgian border, to Lake Sevan and back again and on this trip…for four hours… all the way to Sissian. This town was strategically located in between the two cheese plants, and that was where we were going to stay overnight.

However, Ashot and Gayane, mindful of my cultural needs, insisted we should see the famous Tatev Monastery complex, established in 1895 and named after Eustateus, a disciple of St. Thaddeus the Apostle. They told me, it was some distance to get there and high in the mountains. Now, I happen to be not very keen on mountain driving, because I have a fear of heights, but I got into the car and settled myself in the back. Soon enough we were driving along a steep canyon along a winding narrow road; it was getting dark and I could just barely see the lights from a few houses far down below. I scooted up in the corner away from the abyss and felt nauseous. Of course, Ashot had "Ave Maria" blaring at full volume, so I said, "Ashot, I have had my fill of her; please put on something else". Ashot obligingly asked Gayane to select another CD. So she put in a CD with waltzes of Johann Strauss and the joyous sounds of "The Blue Danube" soon filled the car. Ashot liked that music…very much! To my horror the car now started to swerve along the road to the waving motion of the waltz. First we were close to the edge of the canyon, where I was staring over the brink, then, we were sweeping along the mountain wall and back again. Cold sweat was running down my face, and I was clinging on to the panic strap. With trembling voice, I begged "Ashot, put back Ave Maria, PLEASE!" With Taranova’s sweet voice ringing in my ears, we reached the monastery under a shining full moon to a wondrous experience. Eventually we got safely back to Sissian.

The next morning, we were at the Elola plant and we were in the midst of a demonstration of what later became known as Armtermani, a soft and delicate cheese. Gayane was doing the stirring, while I was observing with a critical eye. I felt the cheese grains between my fingers and thought this is working out really well. All of a sudden, I realized what was happening, "Gayane, are you singing Ave Maria?" She blushed and with an elegant swirl of the paddle, I heard her clearly

: Ave Mariiiiieeeaaahh :

www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRL32IX4B8w

--Poul Hansen