Willi Schmid steps onto the meadow, takes off his socks and walks barefoot over the grass. He’s visiting Martin Senn, a farmer who supplies milk for his Jersey Blue cheese. The Jersey cows nuzzle around Willi, seeking his affection. They almost seem to know that this powerfully built individual is the man who turns their milk into multi-award-winning cheese. Which cheese he’ll make each day is something Willi de-cides just before dawn, when the farmers deliver their cow’s, sheep’s, goat’s and buffalo milk. He tastes each one like a sommelier. He’ll talk of vanilla aromas and of alpine herb accents. “There’s a fine roasted aroma there: Those cows must have had a lot of grass.” Willi knows every farmer, every meadow and even every cow that provides him with milk. A handful of farmers deliver their best milk to him each day. It’s a partnership of genuine friendship and respect. But every farmer knows, too, that they won’t be supply-ing any more if they slip below Willi’s high stand-ards.

Raw milk is the best
Raw milk is the gold in Willi Schmid’s world. It con-tains good fat and protein, and creates an excellent aroma. This unpasteurised milk comes straight from the farm to Willi’s cheese dairy. “Milk loses its character if it’s pumped through pipelines for miles,” Willi avers. “It harms the protein, too.” That’s why, just minutes after it has arrived, Willi tips each raw milk delivery into a large vat. Working with raw milk calls for concentration and care. “Cheesemak-ing is primarily a sensory thing,” says Willi. You need a good sense of smell, and a feel for how the aromas develop in a cheese. “It’s a natural product, and it won’t turn out the same every time.” Monitoring the milk’s temperature is a constant concern.

As with a good wine, temperature will af-fect its aroma and consistency. And now, because he’s been chatting to us a little too much, Willi’s plan to turn this batch of Jersey milk into a soft Tuma cheese has to be aborted. “The lactic acid bacteria have multiplied too much, and the milk’s too mature now for a soft cheese,” he says. So he switches instead to his famous Mühlistein, a semi-hard full-fat cheese. While others cart their milk around for days, Willi decides in minutes if the milk is perfect for a cheese.

As delicate as caramel
Out of the uncertainties comes variety. “In winter the animals eat more hay, which has a roasted aroma,” Willi says. “And that comes out in the milk as a cara-mel flavour.” This milk he uses for his Bergmatter, a cheese with a brioche-like aroma. “Tastes like foie gras, doesn’t it?” he asks. Even a small piece offers a bouquet of aromas. “A cheese has to have a rounded taste,” says the expert, “and one that lingers in the mouth.”Listen to Willi carefully and one thing soon becomes clear: It takes a universal understanding of nature to become a genius of this kind. Willi Schmid combines it all: the cycle of life, the seasons of the meadows, the aromas, the animals, humility and love. He’s a natural cheesemaker, in every sense of the term.