The Swiss Cheese Lady

Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else.          ~James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937)

 On our recent trip to Switzerland, Lanny and I were able to visit a small cheese factory high in the Alps. There, a young woman, her partner and a hired man all labored every day to milk a herd of 90 cows and make cheese from that milk. In Switzerland, cows are kept in barns in the local villages during the winter, but once the snow melts they are taken high into the Alps to graze in the alpine meadows. The sweet grasses of these meadows gives the cheeses the wonderful flavors we enjoyed so much during our visit.

This is the train station-- 

On the day of our visit, we took a train up into the mountains. When we got off the train, I couldn't believe my eyes-- we were in the mountains with spectacular views in every direction. The cheese factory was located down a little road, almost too small for a car. We hiked down this road, and discovered the mountain views got better with every turn.

Lanny on the road to the cheese factory

At the factory we were introduced to the young woman, who explained that the cows were grazing "over the hill" so we couldn't see them, but she and her partner had milked them all that morning, and would again that evening. 90 cows, twice a day, every day. Well, she admitted somewhat sheepishly, about half the cows were now pregnant and not giving milk, so the work load was dramatically reduced... 45 cows, twice a day, every day. The milk was then hauled to the small building we were standing in front of, where it was poured into a large vat and heated. How hot the milk was made determined the hardness of the cheese they were making (higher heat resulted in firmer cheese). Once it reached the correct temperature there were enzymes and rennet added. This caused the cheese to form curds, which were laboriously scooped out into large cheesecloth bags and placed in molds. The moisture was then squeezed out of the mold for a short period of time, and then the cheese was taken to the aging building where it was soaked in salt water to form the rind and then placed up on the aging shelf.

We watched this young woman and her assistant as they scooped the curds out of the vat of hot milk, carried the heavy, wet load to a large table and pressed the curds into the mold, then placed the molds into a further pressing where moisture was removed. It was very hot inside the factory-- well over 80 degrees. The assistant worked shirtless but was wearing large rubber galoshes. The woman had a large rubber apron on. They both were covered in sweat as they scooped and pressed.

We were taken into the little building where the cheese was aged, and saw many large wheels of cheese with a date stamped on each. We were told that the aging process also effects the firmness of the cheese-- the longer the cheese is aged, the firmer the cheese. The woman cut two kinds of cheese into small servings and we were invited to try it. It was delicious!

The woman told us she lived on the mountain with her boyfriend during the summer. They had two children, but due to the constant long work hours, the children remained down in the village with her parents. Her day began with the milking, then the hauling of the milk, then the cheese making. That was followed by a second milking and the process was repeated. It sounded like a very, very hard life. She admitted that they worked very hard, and commented that for all their hard work, they were not rich. We all commented on how care-worn she looked and how tired she must be. Back breaking physical work for long hours seemed like it must be a very hard life... We all pitied her.

But then I looked around me. The views-- those stunningly beautiful mountains. They were everywhere. As hard as she was working, this woman was living life on her own terms and in a place that defied description it was so beautiful. When the summer was over, she would go back down the mountain with the cows and resume her village life which was not nearly as much physical work. She had supportive parents and a partner who was helping her. Her life was pretty simple, really. I no longer pitied her-- I admired her. She was a very lucky young woman!

Can you imagine waking up every morning to a view like this?

Or this? And I'll bet the stars at night were incredible too!