Italian Cheese Lovers Find Their Bovine Match Through 'Adopt A Cow'
Foodies have long savored the cheeses of the Italian Alps. Dairy farmers still make it by hand, but unless you live in the region or can travel there, you'll have a hard time getting your hands on it. Much of this precious cheese isn't exported.
As you might imagine, this has not been good for business and the Alpine cheese makers have been slowly disappearing. That is until some farmers banded together — with the help of the Internet — and came up with an unusual adoption program called Adopt A Cow.
A hard, aged cheese made with Mery's milk.
It's kind of like Internet dating.
Mery is the first to catch my eye: She's about 5 feet 10 inches tall, outdoorsy, vegetarian. We definitely seem compatible. And the website says she's available.
She also happens to be an Italian Simmental, a dairy cow that's native to the Alps. For just $67, or 60 Euros, I can meet her.
But I have to drive 360 miles from Rome to the Sugana Valley, a rural enclave in the northeastern Trentino region, to the hilltop homestead of Francesco Lenzi, the farmer who's raising her.
This concept of matching cheese lovers with dairy farmers came to Ilaria Sordo, a young woman from Trentino when she was in college 10 years ago. "Every family here used to have their own livestock," she says. "But in the 1950s and 60s, people started working in factories and office buildings. We got used to seeing pastures just abandoned with no cows. Our traditions were dying, so I came up with Adopt a Cow."
Francesco Lenzi's homestead in a region in the Italian Alps called Trentino. Lenzi, a cheese-maker and farmer, raises cows that can be "adopted" by locals or visitors through the Adopt A Cow Program.
The local tourism department hired Sordo to launch the program, which has grown from a few dozen annual adoptions to nearly 1,000 this past year alone. Most of the members are Italian, though the program is being promoted to tourists as well.
Here's how it works: With my adoption fee of 60 euros, I get an assortment of aged and soft cheeses made from Mery's milk. She produces some four gallons a day.
You might be thinking, "OK, cute idea. But do I really have to go to the middle-of-nowhere Italy to collect my cheese? Can't they just mail it to me?"
Actually, they can't. These are small farms that can't afford the export fees. So rather than bring the product to the consumer, Adopt a Cow brings the consumer to the product.
Katie Parla, who writes about food in Italy, calls it a "brilliant" scheme that should help the farmers draw more investment from their neighbors.
Francesco Lenzi is a dairy farmer in Trentino, Italy, who says Adopt A Cow has been a financial godsend for his milk and cheese operation.
"So if these great cheese producers are attracting people to Trentino, then the neighboring wine producer is going want to get in on that, too, and the cured-meat producer down the street is going to want to get in on that," she says. "And then that creates a critical mass of people invested in the region."
For Lenzi and his family, that's meant selling their entire annual stock.
"Without Adopt A Cow, we would have lost money in 2014," he says. "Instead, it's been a good year. There's money to be made in quality cheese."
Which brings us to a crucial point: Is this cheese really that good? I ask Parla to try it.
"It has this really rich, nutty flavor," says Parla. "I mean the cheese is delicious!"
The Lenzi family couldn't be prouder. And as Mery's new adoptive father, neither could I.
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Transcript
RACHEL MARTIN, HOST:
This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Rachel Martin. Some of the great cheeses of the world are made by hand in the foothills of the Italian Alps. Cows that have grazed alongside the mountains are said to produce a uniquely delicious product. But the traditional, small-scale production and few opportunities for export is not really a great business model. And Alpine cheese makers had been slowly disappearing - that is, until several farmers banded together with the help of the Internet and came up with an unusual adoption program. Christopher Livesay explains.
CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY, BYLINE: It's kind of like Internet dating.
(SOUNDBITE OF TYPING)
LIVESAY: Mery is the first to catch my eye, about 5' 10", outdoorsy, vegetarian. Oh, yeah, we definitely seem compatible. And the website says she's available.
(SOUNDBITE OF COW MOOING)
LIVESAY: She also happens to be an Italian Simmental, a dairy cow that's native to the Alps. For just 60 Euros, I can meet her. But I have to drive 360 miles from Rome to the Sugana Valley, a rural enclave in the northeastern Trentino region. Mery lives with Francesco Lenzi at his hilltop homestead.
FRANCESCO LENZI: (Speaking Italian).
LIVESAY: Mery.
LENZI: Mery.
LIVESAY: Hi, Mery. How are you? She's shy. Can I pet you? Chao, hi, there. Mery is part of a program called Adopt A Cow. Ilaria Sordo came up with it in college 10 years ago.
ILARIA SORDO: (Through interpreter) Every family here used to have their own livestock. But in the 1950s and '60s, people started working in factories and office buildings. We got used to seeing pastures just abandoned with no cows. Our traditions were dying, so I came up with Adopt A Cow.
LIVESAY: The local tourism department hired Sordo to launch the program, which since its inception has grown from a few dozen annual adoptions to nearly 1,000 this past year alone. Here's how it works. My adoption fee also gets me 60 Euros worth of assorted cheeses made from Mery's milk. She produces some 15 liters a day.
(SOUNDBITE OF MILKING MACHINE)
LIVESAY: That's not what you think. A stable hand is hooking up a milking machine to Mery's utters.
(SOUNDBITE OF MILKING MACHINE)
LENZI: (Through interpreter) This is raw milk, milked this evening from the best cows, not pasteurized.
LIVESAY: We both take a sip.
(Speaking Italian). That's delicious.
Lenzi wipes off his milk moustache and grabs some cheese from a rack, then bangs it out of its plastic mold to check the aging process.
LENZI: (Through interpreter) If it sounds hollow, it's no good. You have to tap on them to see.
(SOUNDBITE OF TAPPING)
LENZI: (Through interpreter) This one is good, but it's too soon. It needs more time.
LIVESAY: Now, you might be thinking, OK, cute idea. But do I really have to go to the middle-of-nowhere Italy to collect my cheese? Can't they just mail it to me? Actually, they can't. These are small farms that can't afford the export fees. So rather than bringing the product to the consumer, Adopted A Cow brings the consumer to the product.
KATIE PARLA: That's brilliant. And what that probably also guarantees them, or at least entices from their neighbors, is more investment.
LIVESAY: Katie Parla writes about food in Italy for The New York Times.
PARLA: So if these great cheese producers are attracting people to Trentino, well, then the neighboring wine producer's going to want to get in on that too. And then, the cured meat producer down the street is going to want in on that. And then that creates a critical mass of people invested in the region.
LIVESAY: For Lenzi and his family, that's meant selling their entire annual stock.
LENZI: (Through interpreter) Without Adopt A Cow, we would've lost money in 2014. Instead, it's been a good year. There's money to be made in quality cheese.
LIVESAY: Which brings us to a crucial point. Is this cheese really that good? Again, Katie Parla.
PARLA: So I'm unwrapping. It has a really nice smell, a little bit of nuttiness there. I'm going to cut off a little bit. It's sort of free-able in a way. So it has this really rich, nutty flavor. I mean, the cheese is delicious.
LIVESAY: Did you hear that, Mery?
(SOUNDBITE OF COW MOOING)
LENZI: Mery. Mery. Bella.
LIVESAY: The Lenzi family couldn't be prouder. And as Mery's new adoptive father, neither could I. For NPR News, I'm Christopher Livesay. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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