Carnia Altibut Mezzano

Last night at Del­fi­na I sat by myself at the counter and made a new friend: mez­zano, a play­ful mix of cow and goat milks. It's from Friuli, one of those Ital­ian moun­tain areas, and it tastes the way you would expect—like cows and goats graz­ing on ten­der grass at a high alti­tude, sur­round­ed by rocky out­crop­pings. It's tangy and creamy, yet has a strong, rugged char­ac­ter, just like a moun­tain range. You taste it and you think of Giorgione's shep­herd, stand­ing watch over the storm. It's not unlike a man­cheog; Del­fi­na served it with quince paste. It's the kind of cheese that makes you glad you're sit­ting at the counter, just you and mez­zano, rather than sit­ting at the table next to you, where the man keeps stroking his goa­tee as he bores his companions.

2 replies on “Carnia Altibut Mezzano”

The goa­tee-stroking man should be sil­hou­et­ted and made into Delfina's logo. I know you love Del­fi­na, Lynne, so I will lim­it my com­ments to the fol­low­ing: When I was there a year ago, there was a par­ty of, like, eight who spent the first 20 min­utes com­plain­ing about the fact that park­ing was so, so bad. Not to be snot­ty, but as it turned out they had dri­ven from Noe Val­ley. So, not to be snot­ty again, but Noe Val­ley is less than a mile away. The goa­tee-stroking guy logo should have a latin phrase around it that is some loose trans­la­tion of: "Park­ing your Humvee will be prob­lem­at­ic; loud­ly dis­cussing the dif­fi­cul­ty of doing so will be grounds for dis­dain­ful looks from oth­er patrons."

I think one of the inter­est­ing things about Del­fi­na is that there are all kinds of peo­ple there and it is fun to sit and iden­ti­fy out-of-town­ers, and peo­ple from pacif­ic heights, and peo­ple on dates, and friends of the staff, etc. the goa­tee-stroking man was notable most­ly for his pre­ten­sions to food­ie-ness, and was of a type that in high school we used to call "art fag." he had a shag­gy yet asym­met­ri­cal hair cut, was wear­ing a black skirt-type thing over pants, or pos­si­bly those Indi­an dhoti pants but in black, and decid­ed­ly did not dri­ve a hummer.

Comments are closed.