The farm where buffalo roam seems impossibly remote, but that is part of the story. It is called Torre Lupara, not far from the town of Caserta, in the southern region of Campania. This land is marshy, and even though the old Appian Way passed nearby, the countryside holds little appeal for most farmers.
But even in ancient times it was ideal for water buffalo, and it is likely that the local cheese, mozzarella di bufala, has seduced visitors when the terrain did not.
Today the product is fashionable and sold as far away as stores and restaurants on Chicago`s Harlem Avenue. It is pearly white, shaped into balls of various sizes, and stored in cold, milky water. Some find the sweet taste too subtle, but for those who savor it-usually plain with fresh tomatoes and basil-bufala is worth the expense of about $7 a pound.
Fashionable cuisine was not on the mind of Ugo Jemma when he acquired this old farm in 1944. The war was still on in the north, and bufala seldom was sold past Rome, anyway. But Jemma, from nearby Naples, reclaimed the land with a system of drainage canals and built a herd of thousands where there had been a few dozen.
These water buffaloes hardly resemble the American species, which are more properly called bison, and distantly related if at all. The Old World species came originally from Asia and were brought to Italy by 700
A.D.-perhaps via Africa, perhaps via Greece. They found a home here primarily because they were resistant to diseases common to swampy areas.
Until recently, Italian buffaloes were more appreciated for their homely looks than industrial potential. Charles Dickens wrote about the exotic creatures in travelogues, and they show up in romantic paintings of the peasant countryside.
But while buffalo herders once were poor, many now are prosperous. Alfredo Jemma, for instance, one of Ugo`s three sons, now manages the herd of 3,000 head, the largest in southern Italy. The market for buffalo cheese has grown in the past 10 years, and so has the sophistication used in producing it.
As Jemma begins a tour of the 400-acre farm, he drives past the old estate and slowly by ponds where the buffaloes stand chin-deep to stay cool. First stop is the farm`s modern milking parlor and laboratory. Here the production of each buffalo is recorded, and artificial insemination is practiced by highly trained technicians.
Even with technology, however, there is something timeless about the bufalini, or little buffaloes, as Jemma calls them affectionately. ”They are very intelligent, very social,” Jemma says as we inspect the 24-station milking parlor. Twice a day, they are brought into the barn and hosed down. As if by silent command they walk slowly to positions by the milking machines. They stare at the faces of unfamiliar humans. Two thousand years of domestication have made them tame indeed.
The milk they are raised to produce goes deep into antiquity as well. Historians have traced a cheese called la mozza to the dining halls of 12th Century monks. Its survival is not surprising, for high butterfat content makes bufala superior to similar products.
It should be noted that mozzarella can be made with cows` milk. This cheaper version is called fior di latte (or flower of milk?), more common in the U.S. because it is made there, while bufala is not. Most mozzarella in supermarkets is an aged, rubbery cheese that bears little resemblance to the product in question here. Some buffalo cheeses are blended with cows` milk. Yet another variation is an aged, sometimes smoked, mozzarella that is called provole.
But fresh mozzarella di bufala is coveted most, partially because of its rarity beyond this region, but also because of its quality.
”It has become popular because it is healthy,” Jemma says. ”People are more concerned with what they eat. The mozzarella is very light, but it has distinct flavor that is long-lasting in the mouth.”
Quality and popularity can work at cross purposes, but Jemma promises that he has balanced the two in his small, modern cheese factory. The process at Torre Lupara starts in the morning with stainless-steel vats, into which the buffalos` milk is poured, along with the curdling agent. At 95 degrees Fahrenheit, it is agitated, and the whey gradually separates.
Then the kneading begins. This is done mechanically, but the cheesemaker`s judgment still is indispensable. Too much or too little kneading spoils the texture.
In a matter of minutes, the cheese is ready to be brought out of the tub in a long, continuous mass. When hand-made, the next step is mozzare, a verb in the Neapolitan dialect that means to pull apart by hand. Traditionally, the process is responsible for the spheroid shape of the finished cheese. It also gives mozzarella its name.
At Torre Lupara, they no longer mozzare by hand. It is done by machines so that portions are uniform in size (some like small melons, others a little larger than golf balls), after which the cheese is placed in a salty bath to cure. This too has been adjusted by modern tastes. The step takes 2 hours, not the traditional 12. It achieves a thin skin around the cheese, but the result is less salty than the old methods.
While mechanization now controls many factors of cheesemaking, today Jemma is confounded by at least one human aspect of modern Italian life:
strikes. Presently it is the truckers, more than a trivial inconvenience. Mozzarella requires utter freshness, Jemma insists. His cheese loses moisture and sweetness after only four days-this is why he limits his U.S. sales. Some people might consume it after a week, but much more than that, and it`s a tragedia, which shows on Alfredo`s face at this moment.
This tragedy, however, can be mollified by a meal, which is imminent. At death-defying speed, Jemma races along the winding roads around his property, then into the mountains that overlook the nearby city of Caserta. At a fork in the road is a centuries-old church. Across the street is a trattoria.
We begin with insalata Caprese-a salad with tomatoes, basil and a bit of oil, similar to what is popular on Harlem Avenue. One difference is that whole balls of cheese are served on the plate, not slices, as are common in American restaurants. We begin to cut the mozzarella in our customary way-very carefully, of course, as bufala gets ample respect under the circumstances.
But Jemma smiles and corrects. Cut the ball into quarters, he explains. This way the saltier outside is balanced with the sweet and creamy center. Ritualistically, we do it.
And we continue to do so-even in Chicago, with the more modest, more available, fior di latte. Quartering fresh mozzarella, not slicing, is a subtle custom. But it is a subtle cheese. A true Neapolitan would notice your good taste.
MOZZARELLA AND TOMATO SALAD (INSALATA CAPRESE)
Preparation time: 5 minutes
Yield: 6 appetizer servings
Use only the best vine-ripened tomatoes and a high-quality oil for this simple salad.
1 pound fresh mozzarella, see note
3 medium-size ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced
12 fresh basil leaves
Extra-vrigin olive oil
Salt, freshly ground pepper to taste
1. Cut the mozzarella balls into quarters. Arrange the mozzarella and tomato slices on six salad plates. Top each with two fresh basil leaves. Drizzle lightly with oil. Add salt and pepper as desired.
Note: Fresh mozzarella is sold at Convito Italiano, 11 E. Chestnut St. and 1515 Sheridan Rd., Wilmette; Conte di Savoia, 1438 W. Taylor St.;
Pastificio!, 122 Highwood Ave., Highwood and 1026 Weiland Rd., Buffalo Grove; most Treasure Island stores; the Pasta Shoppe and Italian Deli, 3755 N. Harlem Ave.
