Halloumi - A Cheese You Can Fry (And Fall in Love With)

After a couple of changes, life has settled down again and I've cuddled joyfully once more into my daily schedule - which incorporates composing and, the best part is that hitting the rancher's business sectors to find new and energizing fortunes. Furthermore, goodness - I discovered one.

Sunday I headed down the road to my nearby market to get some buffalo, eggs, rib-eyes and a bovine heart for the felines. In transit out, I chose to fly by Monforte's table. They make dazzling sheep's milk cheeses and yogurt that don't appear to trouble my touchy tum.

As I was fingering a satiny square of garlic scape cheddar, an adorable little wedge grabbed my attention. White, smooth however firm, daintily dotted with herbs.

"What's this one?" I inquired.

"That is halloumi," said the Nice Cheese Lady.

"What's halloumi?"

"It's a Greek cheddar," she answered. "You fry it."

You know in the films, when the person sees the young lady just because, similar to when she's strolling into the study hall or the bar or the workplace, and all of a sudden everything is in moderate movement and she flips her hair and it's everything gleaming and stunning and "Dreamweaver" begins playing? Well that transpired, however with cheddar.

Decent Cheese Lady was waxing beautiful about halloumi starting in Cyprus and how it doesn't dissolve with the warmth in light of the fact that the curd is cooked in whey at high temperatures and the protein structures are adjusted, or something along those lines, however everything I could hear (other than "Dreamweaver") was my midsection warbling to me in a relieving, sweethearts murmur:

You fry it.

Singed cheddar.

This is cheddar you can sear.

Well 'fry' rhymes with 'purchase', and I'm not one to overlook significant happenstances. I plunked down five bucks and coasted home, stricken.

As indicated by "The Rules", one should hold up three days before calling one's smash so as not to seem urgent. I utilized this strategy with my halloumi. On the off chance that I took it home, tore it open and singed it up immediately, what might it consider me? Would it regard me? I questioned so. My halloumi sat and wrung its hands ("Will she cook me? She is going to cook me, ideal?") until tonight.

I was going to sear my new love in olive oil to make it feel increasingly good, being Greek and all, however nary a drop in the house. Along these lines, I utilized a touch of fat. ("Ooooh, you're broiling CHEESE in LARD!" screeched my tummy, enchanted by the defiant debauchery, all things considered, Three cuts, a couple of minutes for every side, at that point on to a plate and just yet cleverly dressed with some dried mint leaves, ocean salt and a doosh of lemon juice.

It was a fantasy date. My halloumi ended up being much the same as the human love of my life: fresh outwardly, firm yet delicate within, and lets out a little squeak when nibbled. (truly - my fella fits this depiction, yet that is an entire other blog.)

Halloumi is decent without anyone else, basically dressed as I had it - it was practically similar to a treat. Be that as it may, you can likewise flame broil it in a stick, kabob-style, or 3D shape it, fry it and serve it like a bread garnish in servings of mixed greens or soups. It has a nonpartisan flavor, so I envision it would take on different herbs and flavors well overall. You can likewise get it bundled in saline solution, which gives it an increasingly salty flavor and I envision encourages it last longer in the ice chest. Not that you'll keep it around long. It's very heavenly and adaptable to simply stay there. In the event that my gut supports, I may begin eating it, gracious I don't have the foggiest idea, similar to consistently at each dinner for the remainder of my normal life. I know it's still at an early stage in the relationship, however when I begin to look all starry eyed at, I fall hard.