and today we're going to see

how caciocavallo cheese is made.

Caciocavallo is one of the most popular cheeses

here in southern Italy,

and it's famous for its elongated shape.

What we're going to see today

is a special kind of caciocavallo, the Podolico kind,

which is made with the raw milk of Podolica cattle,

a rare breed of cattle that is able to survive

in the harshest conditions that we can find here.

These conditions make their cheese

one of the most expensive in Italy,

sometimes even more expensive than the finest of Parmesans.

Let's go find out more.

The Podolica cows that make this seaside cheese

scatter all over as they roam,

making it hard to tell that you're actually on a farm.

Meet Virginio, one of only a handful

of producers making the cheese we're here to learn about.

He uses a recipe that his grandparents taught him,

though the most important element

of this recipe is location.

Here in San Nicandro Garganico,

we are only one kilometer from the sea

and 100 meters above sea level.

This is an important detail, and we'll soon know why.

Claudia: The Podolica produce

only 3 to 6 liters of milk a day,

which is much less than the 30 liters

an average cow might produce.

Today we're working with 50 liters.

The environment in which the cows feed

gives this milk a rich, earthy flavor.

The whole cheesemaking process takes five hours.

Virginio heats up the milk to 40 degrees,

enough to warm it up but still keep it raw,

which is essential to make this type of caciocavallo.

If the milk were to become too warm,

it would scorch and kill off the unique flavor

that the Podolica cows' milk brings to this special cheese.

He then adds rennet and fermented whey

from yesterday's production,

and after 20 minutes he starts cutting the curd.

He aims for the size of a grain of rice.

To do that, he uses this mushroom-looking tool,

which is called menaturo --

a word that, as you may have guessed,

comes from the local dialect.

Claudia: Rather than slowly cutting the curd,

to make caciocavallo,

Virginio energetically slashes through it.

This breaks it up into the small pieces

he is hoping to achieve.

We are used to seeing curd being extracted

and then shaped into cheese right away,

but here it actually rests further

with some of its own warm whey

to allow for more concentrated flavor to develop.

Keeping the curd nice and warm

will facilitate its fermentation.

And while some other cheesemakers might use a steel vat

for this process, here,

Virginio uses a maple vat to ferment the cheese.

This also impacts the flavor, adding notes of acidity

that tickle your tongue as you eat.

Virginio tells us this takes about one hour,

but because it's winter, we ended up waiting

for three hours instead.

[liquid slooshing]

The curd is ready to be stretched.

Virginio takes out a bit of whey

to keep as ferments for tomorrow.

He then slices the curd in smaller parts,

which will then be kneaded in hot water.

In comparison to the stretched curd of mozzarella,

this one will be harder.

This is due to the waiting time

as well as the size of the curd when it was cut.

Virginio then adds some hot water to the curd.

He will shape it into two cheeses,

each weighing 2.5 kilos.

This process will be done completely by hand,

so let's get comfortable.

He tells me this water is 100 degrees. Yes, Celsius.

And judging by the color of his hands

and the smoke around us, I don't envy him.

Each cheese goes through different shapes

before reaching its final one.

Virginio has his personal signature shape, too.

When Virginio's happy with the shape of the caciocavallo,

he places it in cold water to set the shape

and stop the fermentation.

He then adds a rope around the cheeses' heads

to tie the pair together.

Once paired, the two cheeses move to bathe in brine.

The time they spend here depends on weight.

Every kilo needs 24 hours.

These two new entries weigh 2.5 kilos,

so they'll stay here for 60 hours.

And when that time is over,

their next destination is something unexpected.

"A cavallo" means "over the hook,"

hence the name of the cheese.

The tree is actually the only time

the cheeses will see some sunlight,

as the pair will spend the rest of

their aging days in caves.

The minimum aging is six weeks,

and the maximum two years.

Today, Virginio has prepared

a 6-month-old caciocavallo for us to taste.

A cheese this old is worth $40 a kilo,

which translates into just over $100 a piece.