Just love that smile

Nope, not my pants falling down, but I didn’t get round to my Saturday post, for which I was duly punished my having my worst day ever for visitors on all blogs.

It also happened again when I was looking for a suitable image to go with my thoughts of ‘say cheese’. I can’t just be content with finding a suitable image, I have to browse and look through everything, so time consuming.

As you can see, I found a lovely ‘say cheese’ image, but it’s not even that kind of cheese that I was thinking about. I was thinking about real cheese, the stuff that is made from milk.

Back in 1999, I lived in Bolivia, Santa Cruz de la Sierra, actually and I got a job on a farm about 2o kilometres from the city. Of course I had to live at the farm, because it wasn’t the kind of 20 kilometre commute where one just catches a bus to get there.

The job I had was to use Excel and make an accounting system for a collective of six farms.

It was in my ‘off’ hours that I began to watch the local workers make cheese in the quesaria with the excess milk that wasn’t required my the milk company.

I began to make cheese.

It was great because while I am a chef and used cheese, I had no idea about making the stuff.

I learned about many things, how to make cream and ricotta cheese from the left over whey, how to flavour and mature cheese, it was fun.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays I went into Santa Cruz laden with bags of cheese and peddled my wares around the deli and health shops.

I even made a poster which has long been lost, but I found the photo I used on an old hard drive.


I sold the cheese under the name “Vaca Feliz” Happy Cow.

Living on the farm was a happy time, away from the chaotic city, peace, quiet and solitude.

If I had the chance to live on a farm again, I would jump at it.