Remember how I read The Art of Natural Cheesemaking and then started using kefir? Remember how the author claimed you couldn’t detect the flavor of kefir in cheese? Remember how I said I could taste a hint of kefir, but that maybe that was just because the cheese was young?
You can probably see where this is going.
People, I can taste the kefir. It’s not super strong, and after the first bite I don’t really notice it, but still. It’s there and I don’t like it. To add insult to injury, I’m also noticing a funk taste with the cheeses cultured with yogurt.
WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON.
I feel like I’m really beginning to get the hang of making cheeses. I have a good sense of the rhythms. I understand what the curd should feel like. I can (fairly) accurately guess the temperature of the milk without a thermometer. Instead of worrying about the exact pressing weight, I look for other clues, like the milkiness of the run-off whey and how well the curd is knitting together.
mid-press, a yogurt-cultured Asiago: verdict due next month
And yet I feel like I’m back at square one with the most basic element: the stupid culture. And the worst part? I’ve made nearly a dozen cheeses using kefir — about sixty pounds of cheese. If I wasn’t so mad, I’d cry.
To be fair, the cheeses aren’t horrible. We can (and will) still eat them, and there’s always the chance that the funk will dissipate as they age, but I’m not counting on it.
yogurt-cultured
Either way, kefir is out. Yogurt, too. While I’m not fully convinced that yogurt culture is a bad thing (I’ve made some delicious cheeses that were cultured entirely with yogurt), I’m not willing to risk it. I never even got around to using buttermilk as a culture, and now there’s no way. I’m too scared. So until someone convinces me otherwise, or I take an actual natural cheesemaking class, I’m back to freeze-dried cultures.
this dill Havarti (made withOUT kefir, thank you very much) smells ridiculously amazing
In other news: I think I’ve figured out Camemberts! I had a couple fairly disastrous attempts (the plastic molds didn’t work, the salt levels were whack), but I’m getting better at it.
fresh out of the molds
look at all that glorious fuzz!
after a couple weeks in the fridge
The only problem is that once these cheeses are ripe, they need to be eaten, and we can only consume so many Camemberts.
As many of you already know, for the last few (seven!) years I’ve been writing a book. It’s been an agonizing process, and so tedious — every inch of the way, like pulling teeth. But now the backbone of the story is finally on paper. This fall I gave the manuscript to a few trusted readers and then scheduled an extended leave of absence from Magpie for the first several months of this year. I knew that after I received the reader responses, I’d need a some time to focus on the book and plan next steps.
I’ve spent the last month reading through the manuscript, taking notes, and thinking. I feared the feedback would be discouraging but instead it’s been: 1) sobering, 2) grounding, and 3) liberating. Gradually, I’m releasing my death grip on the core story — [Must. Get. Story. Out.] — and beginning to consider other themes and approaches. Switching the book over to a new platform, and fiddling with layout and structure, helped me further distance myself from the story and gain perspective.
It’s messy, and I have a lot of work to do (think: years), but for right now at least, and maybe for the first time ever in this whole laborious saga, I’m actually having — dare I say it? — fun.
