apparently in Vermont.
I’ve always had a soft spot for water buffalo. Mostly because my mother would tell us stories of her childhood in China. This when she would be frustrated with our inability to take responsibility for the care of the most rudimentary of pets…say a goldfish. “I can’t believe you can never remember to feed that goldfish of yours…when I was a kid I had to watch over the family’s water buffalo. Do you know I wouldn’t be here if anything had happened to that buffalo…”
When I grocery shop at Berkeley Bowl, I scan the shelves -quick and methodical- to see if anything new might have hit the market. This week I was excited to see something I hadn’t noticed before in the dairy case “Waterstock Water Buffalo” yogurt. I immediately pictured my mother as a young girl in the rice fields up to her ankles in water walking along side her water buffalo smacking it’s behind with a thin bamboo cane. With the snap of the cane, I decided to purchase some – Vanilla for P and Maple for moi.
Wow, now that is some dense kind of creamy goodness. No wonder as it has nearly twice the fat of cow’s milk as well as a tad more protein and calcium. Very tasty stuff. I may have to pick up some of the plain to use as a base for dips. With so many cucumbers coming out of the garden maybe a batch of the Greek cucumber dip Tzatziki is in order.
Of course with my next visit to Mom she’ll be getting a tub of her favorite flavor…maybe she will share some more childhood stories 🙂
2 Responses
Hi Sandy,
Today’s blog reminded me of the Water Buffalo yogurt we got when we were in Sri Lanka. We got it from one of the little food shacks down the road, home made in small clay pots. The cream was about an inch thick on the top. No flavors, just the creamy naturalness of the real thing. I remember the first time Sandy F brought some back to the house. We let her eat it first to she if she would get sick. When she didn’t and we felt it safe to eat we would try to get some every day. Michael would always leave a little in the bottom of the pot and put in more tabel scraps and take it to the cutting house for Jones, the wild dog who refused to be sent away. The food made Jones so happy he would sing when he saw Michael coming.
Food does envoke strong memories.
Love – Wesnia
Hi Wesnia – what a great story! Thanks so much for sharing 🙂