It will come as a surprise to no one that my Christmas wish list is usually populated mainly with kitchen and cooking items. Well, that and snarky T-shirts and Blu-ray discs. This beginner’s cheese-making kit (from cheesemaking.com, also on Amazon) was a gift from my lovely mother. In the post-holiday rush, I set it aside, but this week I picked it back up again. After all, it really doesn’t look that hard, right?

A gallon of milk? I can do a gallon of milk, and since I had a free afternoon, why not try to make some of my own mozzarella? People do that all the time with free afternoons, right? Right.

The box contains everything you need other than the milk. Other than the many large bowls, dish towels and saucepans you will dirty, but more on that later. At the point when I was taking the following pictures, my mind was running along the lines of “30 minutes? And made partially in a microwave? Hell, yeah. I am going to be cheese mistress of the world. Of the universe!”

Spoiler: I am not the cheese mistress of the universe.

Making cheese is actually more like baking than cooking, in that the ingredients need to be added in exact quantities at specific temperatures and the allotted time. I am very aware that such scientific methods do not come naturally for me, and so I was nervously vigilant about doing everything just right, just as the directions laid out — because it sucks when you’re almost done and look back to find the vital step you missed. Ahem, gnocchi.

A tiny little, itty quarter of a rennet tablet…

… dissolved in a small amount of “cool” water (is tap cool enough?) and citric acid dissolved in a different amount of cool water, and of course the milk.

The citric acid and the milk are heated to 90 degrees. Off heat, you add the rennet solution, stirring top to bottom according to the directions. Top to bottom? “How does one do that?” I ask, as I splash myself in the face. This is me being precise, people!

The rennet causes the milk to create one, big pot-shaped curd. Sauce pot-shaped, of course. What are you thinking? You then chop the curds into squares on the diagonal, so even the bottom layers are roughly cubed.

Those cubes are then heated again, which is when the whey begins to separate. Whey is kind of gross-looking, don’t you know, and you have to strain it out several times. The first is when the cheese curds are removed to a bowl.

Appetizing, yes? Then as you microwave the cheese and stretch it, there’s more whey to drain. Microwave, stretch, more whey draining, add some salt. I have no photos of that process because it went so fast and because if I cover the camera in whey juice, I’m going to get in trouble. So to paint the picture, the hot cheese is slippery and somewhat grainy. In order to form the cheese into a loaf (you can also choose to roll smaller balls), the movement is part kneading slimy dough and part pulling taffy.

I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. Or slimy. I found that part fun, if messy. At points while stretching my white ball of soon-to-be cheese, I could see the signature shiny strands of mozzarella begin to emerge, though there were still grainy bits I couldn’t seem to conquer. Afraid to work the cheese too much, I perhaps worked it too little.

Still, it came together into a cute baby loaf, and baby got an ice bath.

It took me 80 minutes, which is a skosh greater than the estimated 30 minutes for those of you keeping score. I also dirtied two measuring cups, three bowls, a spaghetti pot, four spoons (slotted, wooden and spoonulas) and the front of my shirt. Still, I didn’t screw anything up! Perhaps it’s not perfect. The taste and texture certainly weren’t expert by any stretch. (Heh, sorry.) So I’m not mistress of cheese. Perhaps minor noble of cheese. OK, so probably illegitimate child of a minor noble of cheese.

I’ll take that for now, and next time, I will do better. And maybe relax a little bit while I’m at it.

I made use of that fresh, homemade cheese the same night, so stay tuned for the tasty results and two great recipes you just must try.