So throughout our travels in France, we saw happy cows -- no make that smug cows -- lovely blissed out, buddha cows, nestled cat-like in fresh green clover atop the rolling hills of Normandy or Alpine hillsides.
So when we returned to San Francisco, I was naturally anxious to see how our famously happy cows looked. So on our trip to Bolinas, we continued up the coast past Point Reyes Station and looked in on the Giacomini family dairy, suppliers of milk to the makers of the Point Reyes Original Blue cheese.
I can't describe the extraordinary dimensions of the foul smell that resided right next to the cows, but let's just say that these did not look like any sort of happy cow. Let's go on to say that I won't ever be able to taste the Point Reyes Blue the same way again.
What do we do to the creatures that feed us?
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