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Caciocavallo Podolico   I call up the man from Apulia to talk about how cheese is made from the milk of the Podolica cow His accent staggers to me across the Atlantic through the glowing portal of my telephone’s face Yesterday my bosses put me on a “performance plan” for April, after which I’ll likely be terminated Winter dissolved in the fumey air listing around and above the buildings and towers of Chelsea The cows’ trip from the Abruzzi to the Gargano promontory is called a ​transumanza​, transhumance They’re herded down ​tratturi,​ sheep tracks, even though they’re cows, by cowherds on horseback Sometimes the cowherds sleep on their horses I type the information into my work-issued laptop Today I work at the cafe because the office is closed for a foodie event of some sort, Nigella perhaps (​Foodie​, like ​morsel, tasty, fresh, a​nd many other words, is on the company’s “banned words” list) I write product descriptions for ramps, fiddleheads, morels, acrylic canisters, pizza peels, spades The Podolica cow is the most direct living descendant, it is said, of ​Bos primigenius​, the aurochs The cafe’s pussy willows, laid out for Lunar New Year, have given way to red flowers I cannot name The ceramic mug I drink from bears the images of a sleeping farmboy and bulls and bales of hay To create caciocavallo podolico cheese, one must first separate a calf from its nursing mother The mother will invariably return each morning to feed him or her, at which time she is milked Upon being heated, the curds of this milk are kneaded and stretched, making them firm and elastic Eventually the cheese is formed into the shape of a gourd, chilled, brined, and hung up to mature Done working, I drift down Washington, Sterling, Classon, St John’s, clenching my fiddlehead heart A month and a week today is my birthday and by God you motherfuckers you can’t fire me I quit Today, the Podolica lives only in Campania, Calabria, Basilicata, and Apulia, and is often cross-bred Once upon a time my ancestors took