Where the Buffalos Roam

July 8, 2006

bufala_02.jpg

Before there was Spanish Fly, there was buffalo milk. It’s a lusty flavor filled with the sharp tangy aftertaste of pheromones. When the Italians pull it like taffy into the famed mozzarella di bufala it’s pure sex. If you don’t believe me, ask Fidel (fcastro@cuba.org). He imported water buffalos and Italian cheese makers to Cuba in the early 60s to please the actresses on jaunts from Rome who loved to run their fingers through his crumb flecked beard. As if being a dictator in the tropics isn’t hot enough. Seem like overkill to you David? Yeah, me too. I replaced the picture with Castro’s face on my “Who Shot JR” tshirt.

I like to add the earthy flavor of the fava bean to this dish, but be careful as this is already serious stuff. Be prepared. No glove, no love.

Insalata di Mozzarella di Bufala con Tomate e Fava

Shell a pound of fava beans and boil them for about 8-10 minutes until al dente. Pop them out of their casing and toss with a clove of crushed garlic, 1/2 tsp sea salt, juice of half a lemon, 2 Tbs Sicilian olive oil and 3 small chopped tomatoes.

You’re going to need some sun soaked tomatoes grown in God’s green earth for this one. Forget the hydroponic, genetically engineered pretty things that you find in your local supermarket. They’re only a facsimile. If I were you, I would start in March with heirloom seeds. If you didn’t plan that far in advance, get yourself to the farmers market and shell out the big bucks for the ugliest, most delicious tomatoes you can find. Go for a variety, like green zebras, brandywines and cherokee purples. Don’t be afraid of color, you’re a manly man.

Slice the mozzarella di bufala into 8 slices. Place the trembling white dynamite onto a bed of of fresh basil, cilantro, parsley and thyme. Arrange the tomato/fava bean mixture on the plate and drizzle more olive oil on the mozzarella. Garnish the salad with picholines.

Unbutton your shirt at least to nipple level, cut a loaf of ciabatta, pour 2 glasses of Nebbiolo and let the Buffalo milk work it’s magic. If you’d be so kind, send me pictures.

2 Responses to “Where the Buffalos Roam”

  1. Monkey Jones Says:

    Let’s talk about sex baby.


  2. […] When you bite into a ripe peach, the gush of sweet juice and soft flesh conjure delightful sensations from head to toe. Of course peaches are delicious in pie, with ice cream and poached in champagne. But paired with tomatoes, Bufala di Mozzarella (Fidel’s aphrodesiac of choice), and pesto, they transcend all fruit/sex symbolism. The salty herbaceous flavors mix with the sweet peach and make magic. […]


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