I scheduled my Moderna booster shot (and flu vaccine) for Friday afternoon. I’d been hearing that lots of people have been getting sick with the booster, and, with the wedding barreling down on us, I knew that taking 24 hours off to be sick was maybe not the best idea, but I really wanted to get this over with before the wedding.  

So for two days prior, I busted my butt getting all the stuff done. I cooked ahead, ran errands, did chores, made the kids’ to-do lists for the following day and lectured the whole family about expectations. To my husband, I was very clear: even though I might be sick all day, you have GOT to keep things moving, I said. And then, hoping to get in a few hours of good sleep prior to the vaccine kicking in, I went to bed early. 

At around four o’clock in the morning, I grew restless and achy, but when I got up in the morning, I actually felt pretty good, all things considered. I had energy to walk to the bathroom, and I was hungry for breakfast. I popped some Tylenol and went downstairs to make coffee. 

My husband had just come in from milking. He felt terrible, he said. He’d slept horribly and had a wicked headache. 

You’ll feel better after your coffee, I said.

And that’s when he confessed: he’d gotten his booster the day before, too, just a couple hours before me. He wasn’t going to tell me, he said. His plan was to be all cool and unaffected, and then later, he’d tell me all nonchalant-like.  

HA. His little I’m-so-cool plan backfired.

BIGTIME.

For the whole day: chills, rattling teeth, splitting headache, nausea, the works. I wasn’t too hot, either, mind you, but I wasn’t that bad.

It was sort of funny, but I was pissed, too. He’d sabotaged my day! Instead of resting and babying myself, I was making him tea, covering him with blankets, and overseeing the kids’ chores while he shivered and moaned on his bed of pain. 

my mom sent over a little care package for the sickies

That night, my simmering temper finally erupted. I didn’t care that he got the vaccine — that was FINE, that was GOOD — but he couldn’t just sabotage my carefully-laid plans and squander a precious wedding-prep day and then act like everything was all peachy cute. 

To make the restitution I demanded, he spent the next day working double-hard and now marital peace has been restored. 

Plus, we’re boostered.

Yay.

***

P.S. Sunday night, he had chills and achiness again (and another horrible night of sleep), and he discovered that his lymph nodes under his arms were wildly swollen. Monday was much better, though he was still draggy. And me? I’m totally fine, go figure.

P.P.S. About the Omicron variant: “For now, vaccinated people can reasonably continue to behave as they were — but many should feel urgency about getting booster shots.” (New York Times) GET YOUR BOOSTERS, PEOPLE.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (12.7.20), “take out the trash”, the quotidian (12.7.15), all sorts of bolstered, my kids are weird, raisin-filled cookies.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Fruit on the bottom: cool idea.

In reality, not so hot: the jelly liquified and curdled the yogurt. (It still tasted fine.)

First thing I pressure cooked.

Latest food crush: homemade ramen.

I heart yogurt cheese.

So I made a bulk batch.

Twenty-four hours later.

Done!

By the quart: how he takes his tortilla chips.

When one is a size 14 (15?), running to the store for shoes isn’t an option; duct tape is.

Dress shopping via Facetime.

Sorry, bud. If you want long hair, you gotta deal.

I’ve always said the kids are my minions.

Christmas is coming! Hurry!

This same time, years previous: how we homeschool: Rebecca, Clymer and Kurtz, my sweet beast, the quotidian (12.4.17), the quotidian (12.5.16), oatmeal sandwich bread, in my kitchen: 6:44 p.m., cinnamon raisin bread, holding.

I’ve tried to make ricotta a number of times since Daisy freshened, both from whey and from milk, and I’ve failed miserably every time. I’m not sure how I messed up with the milk ricotta since I already have a recipe for easy-peasy high-yield milk ricotta on this blog, but with the whey ricotta, I didn’t really expect to succeed. I knew that ricotta made from whey didn’t yield much, and I figured the four-fivegallons of whey would probably not give enough cheese to really matter. The couple times I tried making it, I got only a tablespoon or so of curd, but it was so silty it was impossible to scoop and not worth the hassle of draining through a bag. Which confirmed what I already thought: whey ricotta was for the birds.

But then when I went to our cheesemaking meeting, our host was in the middle of draining ricotta that she’d made from a batch of whey, and she served us whey ricotta, too. It was delicious. 

So I quizzed her up one side and down the other and then I went home and did it exactly as she said: Bring the whey almost to a boil, and when you see some curds floating to the top, stir in some vinegar, cut the heat, clap on a lid, and let it rest a bit before scooping out the ricotta.

Actually, I don’t think that’s exactly how she does it since she was straining it through a cheesecloth, but that’s how I do it. (I did try to strain it through a cheesecloth once. It took forever and made a huge mess. Never again.) 

for illustration purposes— not a recommendation

Anyway, I’ve been stunned at how much ricotta I’ve been getting. For every four gallons of whey, I get anywhere from one to two pounds of the stuff.

It’s way (haha) more than I can use, so I’ve been wrapping the blocks of cheese in plastic and stashing them in the freezer. The thawed ricotta won’t be as good as fresh, but it’ll be perfectly fine in baked lasagnas, quiches, pancakes and the like. (Supper tonight: lasagna with homemade ricotta, mozzarella, cottage cheese, Belper Knolle, salty halloumi, and a few scraps of Cobly. ALSO: our grass-fed beef and canned tomato sauce. Why yes, m’dear, I AM feeling a smidge red hennish.)

Usually I leave my ricotta plain, but I have dry salted it, too, a là some of the aged cheese recipes (and I think ricotta salata involves a variation of this method).

I imagine it could also be treated a lot like yogurt cheese: just stir in some salt and then hang the cheese in a cheesecloth overnight before shaping the curd into balls. In other words, ricotta is flexible. Do with it what you want.

Making ricotta is yet another step in an already clunky process— and it makes more mess, what with the kettles and pans and such— but now that I know how much ricotta I can get from that “junk” whey, it feels criminal to waste it. I mean, just think how much ricotta I’d have in my freezer if I’d been doing this all along! Dozens of pounds of the stuff, probably.

Whey Ricotta

The term “whey ricotta” is redundant, I suppose, since ricotta means cheese made from whey, but because people do make ricotta from whole milk, I’m differentiating.

I don’t measure anything; these are estimates.  

3-4 gallons of fresh whey
⅓ cup white vinegar

Heat the whey on high heat. When it starts to look foamy on top (around 175 degrees, usually), remove the lid and keep an eye on it. At about 185-190 degrees, little bits of curd will begin to float to the surface making the top cloudy and frothy. Right around 190 degrees, stir in the vinegar. Remove the spoon and watch closely: larger chunks of curd should rise to the surface and begin clumping together, forming a cap on the whey. Turn off the heat, cover with a lid, and let rest for 3-5 minutes. 

Using a slotted spoon (with small holes), ladle the curd into ricotta molds — or plastic containers that have holes poked into them, or into a fine bowl-shaped sieve, etc — set in a sided pan. The whey will run out of the holes and the curd will stay in the cups. Keep scooping and filling until the cups are filled to the brim and there’s no more ricotta in the pot. (Actually, there’s always ricotta left in the pot but it’s too fine to scoop — if you want to get all of it, dump the whey and curds into a cheesecloth-lined colander set in the sink.)

Let the cups of ricotta sit in the pan of hot whey at room temperature for about an hour. The curds will gradually settle, expelling more of the whey. Transfer the cups to a clean plate and place in the fridge to cool for a few hours or a day or so. Dump the whey. 

The next day, flip the ricotta out of the molds. At this point, there are several options: 1) eat fresh, unsalted, 2) stir in some salt, fresh herbs, etc and serve, 3) bake with it, or 4) wrap it in plastic, bag, and freeze (and then bake with it). 

This same time, years previous: millionaire’s pie, Friday fun: books and movies, in the sweet kitchen, the quotidian (12.1.14), nanny-sitting, Thanksgiving of 2013, sushi!!!, Friday variety, everything else.