<p>A large part of the dining experience in Bengaluru, driven by pubs and microbreweries, is marked by menus offering a cross section of cuisines. It is the norm to find biryani and butter chicken alongside burrata salad and four cheese pizza, for instance.</p>.<p>Up until two years ago, I worked in a line of journalism that involved visiting new restaurants or trying out new menus of popular eateries. I would taste multiple dishes, interact with the chef concerned about the food served and later write down my experiences for a weekly supplement. During these conversations, there was one brand of cheese that would crop up quite frequently. It was Vallombrosa. On further enquiry, I learned it was started by a priest, Father K L Michael, at a seminary in Krishnajapuram, an east Bengaluru suburb. I was intrigued, but never got the chance to meet him or learn more about his story.</p>.<p>However, a few weeks ago I was reminded of the cheesemaking priest while tucking into a goat’s cheese salad. I wondered if it had come from the seminary. But more importantly, I was convinced it was a good time to make his acquaintance and tell his story.</p>.<p>Initially, he proved to be elusive. He was transferred to Hosur (in Tamil Nadu) recently and visited Bengaluru only once a week. He agreed to meet me on a Thursday, the day he dropped in to the K R Puram seminary weekly. But the evening prior to our scheduled visit, he informed me that a family member had passed away and that he was rushing to Kerala for the funeral. We agreed to reschedule our meeting for the following week, but I decided to at least visit the seminary and get a feel for the place.</p>.<p><strong>20 years and running</strong></p>.<p>The seminary is located on a quiet road. The two-acre plot is calm, serene and surrounded by greenery. We were ushered into a sitting room, and we met with a father named Biju. He gave us a brief introduction to the cheesemaking setup and told us about how Vallombrosa had been covered widely in the media. Though a lot had been written about it, I felt it was necessary to revisit the story to find out how they had survived Covid-19, how they were faring 20 years after they began their journey, and what were the latest developments.</p>.<p>After interacting with Father Biju briefly, we headed to the cheesemaking unit. The work had been completed for the day. With nothing else to do, my photojournalist colleague decided to get some shots of the cheese varieties on their menu. The workers, most from Assam, set up a table in front of the building and lined up mozzarella, bocconcini, burrata, ricotta, mascarpone and parmesan cheese. Then, we <br>concluded our visit and headed back to the office.</p>.<p>Kottayam to Italy</p>.<p>The following week, we finally met Father Michael. After parking under the shade of a tree inside the seminary, we turned to find him marching towards us, his cassock trailing behind him in the wind. He took us straight to the cheesemaking unit and proceeded to seat us at the waiting room where we spent over an hour chatting.</p>.<p>The Benedictine order that the father belongs to follows the principle of prayer and work. “Most religious orders follow the same principle,” he told us. Fathers and nuns must supplement their prayers with some vocation to earn a living. He chose cheesemaking, but there are also wine-making priests in Italy. In Germany, some monks make beer, he pointed out.</p>.<p>He spent eight years in Italy as a part of his studies. That is when he learned cheesemaking.</p>.<p>The Kottayam native did not take to cheese initially. “There was always a variety of cheese served at dinner. I didn’t even like the smell at first. But I got used to it eventually,” the father recalled. Now, his favourite is the burrata they make at the seminary.</p>.<p>He returned to Bengaluru in 2000 and was tasked with heading the seminary at Gualbert Bhavan, the Vallombrosan Benedictine Monastery in K R Puram. It is named after the founding monastery of the order in Tuscany, Italy.</p>.<p>“There is a lot more freedom in the monasteries outside India. We spend the mornings praying. In the afternoons, we are free to head out, visit a library or any other place we’d like,” he told me.</p>.<p>An Italian businessman and parishioner of the Benedictine monastery church in Italy suggested he try his hand at cheesemaking. “He felt Bengaluru did not have good cheese. He believed the restaurant scene in the city would grow exponentially in the next few years and that they would all be in need of good cheese,” the priest shared. Turns out, he was right.</p>.<p>In 2004, the father set up a unit and got to work. They opted to use buffalo milk, “because it is thicker and makes for superior qulity cheese”. Initially, the unit was managed entirely by himself and a few brothers from the seminary. But after a newspaper article made them famous overnight, they had to hire full-time workers. “I took the help of my older sister, a nun who works in Guwahati. Through her I found some dedicated helpers. Over the years, many have left and new workers have joined but they are all from Assam,” he shared.</p>.<p>On the menu</p>.<p>They started by making mozzarella cheese and later added ricotta and bocconcini. Currently, they have 13 varieties on their menu. The most popular is the burrata.</p>.<p>According to Aslam Gafoor, a hospitality professional, their burrata is unmatchable. “Burrata has a delicate casing and when you cut it open the inside should ooze onto the pizza or salad it is served over. If the casing gets too rubbery it spoils the experience. The inside of the burrata becomes solid too. But Vallombrosa always gets it right, which makes it sought after by many upscale restaurants and five-star hotels,” Gafoor told me.</p>.<p>Chef Gaurav Kumar, executive sous chef at The Oberoi, Bengaluru, has over 15 years of experience at properties across India. He moved to Bengaluru six months ago. “I have tried many brands of cheese but Vallombrosa is one of the best,” he said.</p>.<p>The cheese is widely used in ther salads and ravioli at The Oberoi. “The supply chain does not always support imports. And it is good to support local businesses. The brand is also popular in the Mumbai and Goa hotels I worked at,” he added.</p>.<p>Popular microbrewery, Toit, in Indiranagar is one of their biggest clients, the father informed me. Their mozzarella and bocconcini go into the salads there. “They have been our suppliers for 13-14 years. The consistency has been top notch,” said Mukesh Tolani, co-founder and director of Toit. When Father Michael launched the brand, there were just one or two other suppliers. Now, there are many players in the market. However, Vallombrosa’s quality stands out, he explained. </p>.<p><strong>The process</strong></p>.<p>The milk is pasteurised and then the culture is added. It takes half an hour to curdle after which the workers start cutting the mixture. This takes another 30 minutes. After cutting, the mixture should sit for four hours to let the cheese mature. The cheese is then tested in hot water to check for its stretching quality. If it doesn’t break it is ready to be shaped and packaged. The whey is further boiled down to make ricotta cheese.</p>.<p>To make hard cheese, the mixture is separated immediately after curdling. The cheese is very soft and delicate. It is placed in a shaper and left for six hours for the water to dry. It is then placed for another six hours in salt water to absorb the salt. Then it is left in the cold room for 20 days. Parmesan is aged for four months.</p>.<p><strong>Covid-19 hurdle</strong></p>.<p>Call it divine intervention if you will, but Covid-19 played a role in boosting the business. Before Covid hit, they were using 500 litres of milk to make 100 kg of cheese. During the lockdowns, they were faced with a huge problem. Restaurants were shut and the demand for cheese went down. They had to find a way to survive. “The workers had to be paid and we had to find a way to keep the money coming,” the father explained.</p>.<p>They solved the problem by selling the cheese directly to consumers. “We set up WhatsApp groups through which customers could order from us directly. That is how we maintained the demand,” he added.</p>.<p>After the pandemic had died down and the restaurants were reopened, the demand doubled. “The individual customers continued to order from us, plus the restaurants were ordering from us too,” he shared. Currently, they use over 1,000 litres of milk daily to make 200 kg of cheese.</p>.<p><strong>Farm life</strong></p>.<p>Right from the start, the biggest challenge was finding unadulterated milk. “People add water or maida to the milk to make extra money. This obviously was a huge problem as the taste of the cheese depends so much on the quality of milk,” the father shared. However, they were able to find some farms selling pure milk. “We pay Rs 70 a litre. And yet, sometimes we still get adulterated milk,” he rued.</p>.<p>The Hosur monastery where Father Michael currently resides is a 12-acre property. He oversees the upkeep of 10 buffaloes, 17 goats, pigs, a few cows and a fish farm among others.</p>.<p>The 10 buffaloes produce 100 litres of milk daily which is transported to the K R Puram facility for cheesemaking. Yet, it is not sufficient to meet the full demand.</p>.<p><strong>Self-sufficient</strong></p>.<p>At Hosur, Father Michael starts his day at 6.30 am with prayer. Only after prayer do the priests partake of breakfast and proceed with their work for the rest of the day.</p>.<p>“In the K R Puram seminary it is much more strict, because there are brothers who are younger. They wake up at 5.30 am for prayers and then go about their day. The Hosur monastery is inhabited by three senior priests, so it is a bit more relaxed,” he shared.</p>.<p>None of the fathers receive a monthly paycheck. The profits <br>from the cheese business go into a common pool. The excess funds <br>are distributed to Benedictine <br>communities that are in need of money. “If I need something I can ask the administrator for an allowance and give him the bills. My priority will always be prayer and carrying out God’s work,” he said.</p>.<p><strong>Bengaluru’s cheesemakers</strong></p>.<p>Gafoor explained that there are many new cheesemakers in Bengaluru. Brands like Melchior, Begum Victoria, and Nari and Kage are doing a great job.</p>.<p>But they are yet to match the scale of Vallombrosa. “In terms of quality, we can’t say that the newer cheesemakers are any less skilled. But I think each one has perfected a different kind of cheese. Eventually quality will speak for itself,” he said. He credits Vallombrosa’s small-batch production and attention to detail for their success.</p>.<p>The popularity of cheese boards, and wine and cheese pairings have contributed to the growing affinity for cheesemaking, Gafoor believes.</p>
<p>A large part of the dining experience in Bengaluru, driven by pubs and microbreweries, is marked by menus offering a cross section of cuisines. It is the norm to find biryani and butter chicken alongside burrata salad and four cheese pizza, for instance.</p>.<p>Up until two years ago, I worked in a line of journalism that involved visiting new restaurants or trying out new menus of popular eateries. I would taste multiple dishes, interact with the chef concerned about the food served and later write down my experiences for a weekly supplement. During these conversations, there was one brand of cheese that would crop up quite frequently. It was Vallombrosa. On further enquiry, I learned it was started by a priest, Father K L Michael, at a seminary in Krishnajapuram, an east Bengaluru suburb. I was intrigued, but never got the chance to meet him or learn more about his story.</p>.<p>However, a few weeks ago I was reminded of the cheesemaking priest while tucking into a goat’s cheese salad. I wondered if it had come from the seminary. But more importantly, I was convinced it was a good time to make his acquaintance and tell his story.</p>.<p>Initially, he proved to be elusive. He was transferred to Hosur (in Tamil Nadu) recently and visited Bengaluru only once a week. He agreed to meet me on a Thursday, the day he dropped in to the K R Puram seminary weekly. But the evening prior to our scheduled visit, he informed me that a family member had passed away and that he was rushing to Kerala for the funeral. We agreed to reschedule our meeting for the following week, but I decided to at least visit the seminary and get a feel for the place.</p>.<p><strong>20 years and running</strong></p>.<p>The seminary is located on a quiet road. The two-acre plot is calm, serene and surrounded by greenery. We were ushered into a sitting room, and we met with a father named Biju. He gave us a brief introduction to the cheesemaking setup and told us about how Vallombrosa had been covered widely in the media. Though a lot had been written about it, I felt it was necessary to revisit the story to find out how they had survived Covid-19, how they were faring 20 years after they began their journey, and what were the latest developments.</p>.<p>After interacting with Father Biju briefly, we headed to the cheesemaking unit. The work had been completed for the day. With nothing else to do, my photojournalist colleague decided to get some shots of the cheese varieties on their menu. The workers, most from Assam, set up a table in front of the building and lined up mozzarella, bocconcini, burrata, ricotta, mascarpone and parmesan cheese. Then, we <br>concluded our visit and headed back to the office.</p>.<p>Kottayam to Italy</p>.<p>The following week, we finally met Father Michael. After parking under the shade of a tree inside the seminary, we turned to find him marching towards us, his cassock trailing behind him in the wind. He took us straight to the cheesemaking unit and proceeded to seat us at the waiting room where we spent over an hour chatting.</p>.<p>The Benedictine order that the father belongs to follows the principle of prayer and work. “Most religious orders follow the same principle,” he told us. Fathers and nuns must supplement their prayers with some vocation to earn a living. He chose cheesemaking, but there are also wine-making priests in Italy. In Germany, some monks make beer, he pointed out.</p>.<p>He spent eight years in Italy as a part of his studies. That is when he learned cheesemaking.</p>.<p>The Kottayam native did not take to cheese initially. “There was always a variety of cheese served at dinner. I didn’t even like the smell at first. But I got used to it eventually,” the father recalled. Now, his favourite is the burrata they make at the seminary.</p>.<p>He returned to Bengaluru in 2000 and was tasked with heading the seminary at Gualbert Bhavan, the Vallombrosan Benedictine Monastery in K R Puram. It is named after the founding monastery of the order in Tuscany, Italy.</p>.<p>“There is a lot more freedom in the monasteries outside India. We spend the mornings praying. In the afternoons, we are free to head out, visit a library or any other place we’d like,” he told me.</p>.<p>An Italian businessman and parishioner of the Benedictine monastery church in Italy suggested he try his hand at cheesemaking. “He felt Bengaluru did not have good cheese. He believed the restaurant scene in the city would grow exponentially in the next few years and that they would all be in need of good cheese,” the priest shared. Turns out, he was right.</p>.<p>In 2004, the father set up a unit and got to work. They opted to use buffalo milk, “because it is thicker and makes for superior qulity cheese”. Initially, the unit was managed entirely by himself and a few brothers from the seminary. But after a newspaper article made them famous overnight, they had to hire full-time workers. “I took the help of my older sister, a nun who works in Guwahati. Through her I found some dedicated helpers. Over the years, many have left and new workers have joined but they are all from Assam,” he shared.</p>.<p>On the menu</p>.<p>They started by making mozzarella cheese and later added ricotta and bocconcini. Currently, they have 13 varieties on their menu. The most popular is the burrata.</p>.<p>According to Aslam Gafoor, a hospitality professional, their burrata is unmatchable. “Burrata has a delicate casing and when you cut it open the inside should ooze onto the pizza or salad it is served over. If the casing gets too rubbery it spoils the experience. The inside of the burrata becomes solid too. But Vallombrosa always gets it right, which makes it sought after by many upscale restaurants and five-star hotels,” Gafoor told me.</p>.<p>Chef Gaurav Kumar, executive sous chef at The Oberoi, Bengaluru, has over 15 years of experience at properties across India. He moved to Bengaluru six months ago. “I have tried many brands of cheese but Vallombrosa is one of the best,” he said.</p>.<p>The cheese is widely used in ther salads and ravioli at The Oberoi. “The supply chain does not always support imports. And it is good to support local businesses. The brand is also popular in the Mumbai and Goa hotels I worked at,” he added.</p>.<p>Popular microbrewery, Toit, in Indiranagar is one of their biggest clients, the father informed me. Their mozzarella and bocconcini go into the salads there. “They have been our suppliers for 13-14 years. The consistency has been top notch,” said Mukesh Tolani, co-founder and director of Toit. When Father Michael launched the brand, there were just one or two other suppliers. Now, there are many players in the market. However, Vallombrosa’s quality stands out, he explained. </p>.<p><strong>The process</strong></p>.<p>The milk is pasteurised and then the culture is added. It takes half an hour to curdle after which the workers start cutting the mixture. This takes another 30 minutes. After cutting, the mixture should sit for four hours to let the cheese mature. The cheese is then tested in hot water to check for its stretching quality. If it doesn’t break it is ready to be shaped and packaged. The whey is further boiled down to make ricotta cheese.</p>.<p>To make hard cheese, the mixture is separated immediately after curdling. The cheese is very soft and delicate. It is placed in a shaper and left for six hours for the water to dry. It is then placed for another six hours in salt water to absorb the salt. Then it is left in the cold room for 20 days. Parmesan is aged for four months.</p>.<p><strong>Covid-19 hurdle</strong></p>.<p>Call it divine intervention if you will, but Covid-19 played a role in boosting the business. Before Covid hit, they were using 500 litres of milk to make 100 kg of cheese. During the lockdowns, they were faced with a huge problem. Restaurants were shut and the demand for cheese went down. They had to find a way to survive. “The workers had to be paid and we had to find a way to keep the money coming,” the father explained.</p>.<p>They solved the problem by selling the cheese directly to consumers. “We set up WhatsApp groups through which customers could order from us directly. That is how we maintained the demand,” he added.</p>.<p>After the pandemic had died down and the restaurants were reopened, the demand doubled. “The individual customers continued to order from us, plus the restaurants were ordering from us too,” he shared. Currently, they use over 1,000 litres of milk daily to make 200 kg of cheese.</p>.<p><strong>Farm life</strong></p>.<p>Right from the start, the biggest challenge was finding unadulterated milk. “People add water or maida to the milk to make extra money. This obviously was a huge problem as the taste of the cheese depends so much on the quality of milk,” the father shared. However, they were able to find some farms selling pure milk. “We pay Rs 70 a litre. And yet, sometimes we still get adulterated milk,” he rued.</p>.<p>The Hosur monastery where Father Michael currently resides is a 12-acre property. He oversees the upkeep of 10 buffaloes, 17 goats, pigs, a few cows and a fish farm among others.</p>.<p>The 10 buffaloes produce 100 litres of milk daily which is transported to the K R Puram facility for cheesemaking. Yet, it is not sufficient to meet the full demand.</p>.<p><strong>Self-sufficient</strong></p>.<p>At Hosur, Father Michael starts his day at 6.30 am with prayer. Only after prayer do the priests partake of breakfast and proceed with their work for the rest of the day.</p>.<p>“In the K R Puram seminary it is much more strict, because there are brothers who are younger. They wake up at 5.30 am for prayers and then go about their day. The Hosur monastery is inhabited by three senior priests, so it is a bit more relaxed,” he shared.</p>.<p>None of the fathers receive a monthly paycheck. The profits <br>from the cheese business go into a common pool. The excess funds <br>are distributed to Benedictine <br>communities that are in need of money. “If I need something I can ask the administrator for an allowance and give him the bills. My priority will always be prayer and carrying out God’s work,” he said.</p>.<p><strong>Bengaluru’s cheesemakers</strong></p>.<p>Gafoor explained that there are many new cheesemakers in Bengaluru. Brands like Melchior, Begum Victoria, and Nari and Kage are doing a great job.</p>.<p>But they are yet to match the scale of Vallombrosa. “In terms of quality, we can’t say that the newer cheesemakers are any less skilled. But I think each one has perfected a different kind of cheese. Eventually quality will speak for itself,” he said. He credits Vallombrosa’s small-batch production and attention to detail for their success.</p>.<p>The popularity of cheese boards, and wine and cheese pairings have contributed to the growing affinity for cheesemaking, Gafoor believes.</p>