Something blue and furry is growing in our beer fridge - and I bet it tastes amazing.
It's Stinky, my very own round of blue vein cheese. I tended Stinky with my own hands (actually, she was fondled by a few others, too), and she is moulding up beautifully.
Stinky was created during a one-day DIY cheesemaking course through The New Zealand Cheese School.
The school is based in Putaruru, the heart of dairy country, but frequent Tauranga classes are held at the Historic Village on 17th Ave. Master cheesemaker, author and international cheese judge, Neil Willman, and champion artisan cheese maker, Sue Arthur, run courses across the North Island.
The process of making Stinky tested my resolve. First, crafting blue vein and Brie cheese from a vat of milk is a long process - not for those who like instant gratification.
Second, we had to share curds and I have to admit to a silent shudder at the sight of people running their hands through the lumpy mass I would one day take home and share with my family.
However, don't get me wrong: they were all lovely people and our hands were sanitised so often I thought I might end up with bright white palms.
But in these times of germ-phobia and factory-processed foods, we aren't used to the sight of people putting their hands all over something we will eat - even perfectly hygienic hands.
Most confronting of all was the big dish of curds and whey we separated with our hands. I resisted initially but, after an internal dialogue where I called myself a wimp and told myself to get over it, I leapt in. I was expecting some cold, squelching sensation which would make my toes curl. But it was luscious.
The silky, luke-warm blobs of curd gave way under gentle tickling and a week's worth of stress evaporated. They talk of how therapeutic bread kneading is, but the practice of stirring the curds was a whole new level of meditative soul-enrichment.
Neil's great-great grandfather got seven years in Australia for stealing cheese - arriving in the penal colony in 1829.
Neil used to run cheese education courses for the Australian industry through Melbourne University and since 2008, he's been doing the same in New Zealand.
He loves the enthusiasm evident in a small cheesemaking course like ours - retirees, dairy farmers, mums who want to teach their children where food comes from and a bloke from a place called Cheddar.
We ranged from people who were interested in the fungal and yeast origins of vegetarian rennet to people who kept sniffing their cheesy fingers and wondering when we'd start sampling some awesome artisan produce (okay, that might have just been me).
Home cheesemaking can be cost-effective (roughly $28/kg for blue vein), therapeutic and gratifying, but you have to have a pernickety streak. There is no room for laxness on the sanitisation-front. I sanitised my pen. One man sanitised his glasses and the watch he had lying on the table. All the blokes wore beard masks and everyone wore hairnets.
Without giving away too much, we stirred some warm milk, scattered some culture, covered the milk, waited, cut the curds, tickled the curds, drained the curds, put the curds into moulds, turned the cheese, broke the cheese, turned the cheese again.
In between, we talked cheese, ate cheese and had quick lessons in how to make yoghurt, quark, mascarpone, and warm, scrambled egg-like ricotta. Neil also shared a smattering of curds and whey jokes.
And, at the end of the day, I reached into a warm polystyrene tub, plucked out Stinky, put her in a plastic bag and brought her home.
She spent a night on a shelf in the hot water cupboard and now she's keeping cool and growing nice and furry in the beer fridge.
It may not be as convenient as picking up a round of blue cheese from the supermarket, but this homemade cheesemaking business is infinitely more satisfying.
The next Tauranga DIY Cheesemaking course will be held on Friday, August 17 from 9.30 to 3.30. For more details, ph (07) 883 8239 or visit www.newzealandcheeseschool.co.nz