Kurut

It hails from the Middle East and Central Asia. It has many names. Qurut, quroot, koort, kashk, yazdie, aruul. Hard as a frozen jawbreaker and smelling of combinations of sour feet and funkified parmesan, these golf ball sized lumps of dried cheese curds are made by boiling milk down to a thick paste, then hand formed and dried in the sun as a means of preservation.

My sister and I stumbled upon these strange rocks in a market at Brighton Beach. The guy working there said they are eaten as is as a snack food. Sampling a chip in its dried form, the taste is saltier than a naval ship. A salty sour chalky jaw-busting pungent naval ship.

The kurut sat on my kitchen counter, as I try to figure how to make it more palatable. I soaked the curds in a bowl of water for about 18 hours and then simmered them for 20 minutes. The kurut held its shape and was much easier to nibble on, though the center was still a bit stiff. The soaking did help in taking some of the funky salty edge off, but the hot water treatment made my apartment smell like unwashed socks for two days.