We were up before the sun in order to pile into a car with our fellow guests - in fact one of the guests got roped into driving one of the cars (our car) to our destination- by 5 0'clock am. I'm glad I wasn't the one who got stuck driving up those windy roads in the pitch darkness. Where were we headed at such an early hour, you might? To visit the shepherd who was going to show us how he makes
Pecorino cheese, of course.We drove quite a ways up the mountain then parked. We looked about we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. To our left was a path rising steeply up the mountain. We were informed we had to hike the rest of the way to the shepherd's hut. Now, the shepherd doesn't live in this hut, although there was a small bed in the chaotic one room shelter at the top of the mountain. the Shepherd, in fact, was late arriving as there had been a festival in his town the night before and he had been out late indulging in wine and celebration. Needless to say we were not the happiest of campers to have been woken up before the sun came up to hike up a mountain only to sit outside in the cold dawn waiting for the shepherd, then waiting while he milked every sheep and goat in his heard. And all this without even a drop of coffee or a morsel of food. I did my best not to be crabby and my DH is the champ at remaining calm and going with the flow. Hippos do not find it easy to keep their tempers and a positive frame of mind in
the wee hours of the early morning with an empty belly and not 
even a hint of coffee in site. can you make out the pen full of sheep and goats in the light that gradually illuminated our surroundings?To be fair it was kinda cool to watch the shepherd grabbing the sheep and goats and going to town milking by hand. He seemed to just know which ones he'd already milked and which ones still needing to be milked. But I didn't need to sit in the cold dawn for 45 minutes watching him milk. I would have been quite happy to see him milk a couple of sheep and a goat and then get on with it. Oh well, that was not to be and I really
shouldn't complain...I mean how many people ever get such an experience? Not many and I never thought I'd be trekking up a mountainside to watch an actual shepherd milking his flock and making cheese from the mornings takings. 
Here's the shepherd breaking up rennet (sheep's stomach-actually I think it's from the lambs stomach) which is used in the heated milk to make curd. It makes the milk curdle or coagulate and form the cheese curds. Pretty cool.
He used a stick with branches sticking out at all angles to str the milk as it coagulated. Then he pulled out the clumps of curd to form into cheese. He asked if anyone wanted to help. Naturally, I jumped at the chance to help. 
At the very least I'd get warm up my hands playing with the hot cheese curd! I was told I needed strong arms and after pushing that mass of warm curd into small circular containers and squeezing out the liquid I knew why. My forearms were aching by the time we were finished even though he let me do the easy part. I was complemented for my performance and told I could apprentice to become a shepherd and cheesemaker! hmmm....if I run out of career options I guess I can always fall back on becoming a shepherdess, eh?
While the jovial shepherd and I were hard at work pressing the liquid out of the cheese curd
that would become Pecorino cheese with some aging my fellow observers were busy helping themselves to the fresh cheese curd and bread with some delicious olive oil pressed on the farm by the shepherd and his wife. Luckily my husband took pity on me and shoved some of these delicous treats in my mouth as I busily pushed the cheese curds into their forms. I don't know if it was because I was starving or what, but I thought it was heavenly. Once all the curd was squeezed into their required forms the shepherd released me from my task as helper and proceded to cover each wheel in salt. this salt rind would encase the cheese while it aged to perfection. 
After this the milk was placed back over the fire till it was boiling. They were now going to make ricotta cheese. Looks yummy doesn't it? blah. there was this sort of milky smell mixed with that of the woodfire the permeated the air. they scooped out the globs that formed and this was the ricotta. What was left was whey. we were informed that drinking whey was very healthy for you. IT balanced your stomach along with a list of other benefits. Our host
stated he thought that whey would become a phenomenal hit across the world...or at least it should . He even had a slogan, "It's whey good!" ha, ha, ha what a card. The adventurous amongst us excepted a hot glass of whey and tentatively brought the little plastic cups to our lips.
Check out my hubbster partaking in his steaming hot whey! Looks like he loves it doesn't it? Actually, it was more that it was just scalding hot. Not that the heat wasn't appreciated that cold dewy morning, but it was still quite shockingly hot when your hands are stiff with cold. I don't know how the shepherd and his life could wear short sleeves! They must be crazy.
the whey wasn't too bad. To me it basically just tasted like really hot watered down milk. Not bad, but not something I'd take up drinking everyday or ever again really. But I"m glad that I tried it. 
On our trek back down the mountain we could finally see the beautiful scenery surrounding us at last. Despite the early hours and the cold wait I was really glad we had made the effort to visit the shepherd and participated in making some fresh cheese. We stopped by the shepherds home and bought some Pecorino cheese. Iit was only 2 weeks old so was soft and tasted very much like the fresh stuff we had tasted that morning. Many of our fellow guests were disappointed because they wanted aged Pecorino. I've never had it but as it ages it gets much harder and eventually it is so hard it's like a Parmesian cheese and is supposedly quite good grated over pasta. Oh well, maybe next time we'll get some aged Pecorino. We also bought a bottle of olive oil which is absolutely delicious. That afternoon DH and I took our cheese, olive oil, some bread and Prosciutto we'd bought at the store and took a little hike to the other farm owned by our host for a private little picnic. It was great.
We spread out our blannket in the shade of a tree over looking our hosts olive orchards (he presses his own olive oil as well) with the mountains looming behind us. It was a perfectly romantic picnic.
It was the perfect afternoon for lazing about eating grapes we picked from our hosts vineyards, indulging in fresh cheese and olive oil and just basking in the warmth and each others company. A good book and a round of UNO set things off perfectly. Beautiful surroundings, good company, and fabulous food, what more can you ask for?
I'll leave you with a video my husband took of me hard at work with the shepherd! The tall, thin man with the glasses who shows everyone the proper way to eat cheese curds, bread and olive oil is our host, Antonello. I thought he was really funny, but I think it takes a particular kind of temperment and humor to appreciate him! *well I attempted to put up the video but it doesn't seem to want to work. I tried until about midnight last nigth and again this morning. If I can figure it out I'll try again later*
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