My dad built a stage. My mom made a million cookies and borrowed coffee makers and mugs. They put up signs for parking and seating. There was a bonfire and twinkle lights.
And then the people came.
Lots and lots of people.
It was the biggest crowd of mostly maskless people — they requested unvaccinated people wear masks — I’d been in since the pandemic started sixteen months ago.
And it was lovely.
***
And then the next day my younger daughter and I went to Costco where we were met at the doorway by this sign.
We promptly ripped off our masks and, grinning maniacally, waltzed into the store. My daughter took off to get her own stuff and then, minutes later, came racing back: There’s samples, Mom!!!
AND THERE WERE.
The sample carts had plexiglass walls affixed to their tops, with a little hole at the bottom through which they’d slip individual paper bags of samples.
There was a sign telling people to wait until they were out of the store to eat the samples, so I dutifully carried around my little bag for a bit and then I was like, Wait, I’m not wearing a mask so whether or not I put food in my mouth is irrevelant — that sign is for the masked unvaccinated. And then I chowed down.
***
After his second vaccine, my younger son had just a slightly sore arm. In other words, he was the only one in our family to have zero side effects. LUCKY.
Version One It’s nearly been a month since I pulled my hamstring, and, not to be dramatic or anything, going cold turkey on all physical activity has been tough. Without my morning runs, walks with friends, and Ultimate games, and without a need to cook or eat, I sank into a puddle of self-pity and despair. Withdrawal symptoms included, but were not limited to, malaise, end-times thinking, apathy, bodily heaviness, self-pitying thoughts, low energy, loss of appetite, and an unreasonable urge to eat down the house. Seriously. Even though I wasn’t hungry, all I wanted to do was eat. It was ridiculous.
On the flipside, I’ve had more time for writing.
Version Two A couple days after I pulled my hamstring, I tried to go for a walk and only made it about a half mile before having to turn back because my leg just wasn’t functioning properly and I was afraid I was doing real damage, but then when my leg didn’t hurt any worse the next day, I began to go on regular walks even though they were time-consuming, didn’t raise my heart rate hardly at all, and made me feel like I’d aged thirty years, but nevertheless I persisted and I kept doing my hamstring strengthening exercises (and making my husband give my leg a deep tissue massage every night) and then after a couple long weeks my older son suggested we go on a bike ride and that was so refreshing that I went on another bike ride the following week and then, a couple days later, I, in a burst of optimism, biked the ten miles from town to my house on my own and it was glorious but, wouldn’t you know, then my knee started hurting like the dickens and, via some quick internet research, I discovered that my (self-diagnosed) bursitis was a consequence of a tight hamstring and I was like THIS IS NEVER GOING TO END WAAAAAH and began considering private swimming lessons and a pool membership but then I managed to mostly stay off my feet for a couple days while religiously icing my knee and popping Ibuprofen, which made me feel actually good enough to attempt a short run, and now, because my knee and hamstring are both considerably better (or at least not worse), I’m letting myself run a slow mile or two every other day which is doing wonders for my mental health but I still can’t play Ultimate, pant-pant.
We’re slowly getting the hang of this milk thing. I’m working with three — no, four — main components: the milk, yogurt, cheese, and whey. Here, let me show you.
The Milk The first few weeks, I thought the milk tasted stronger than it should. Farmy, or something. I’d read that a rapid chill-time was key to keeping milk fresh-tasting, so I started making my younger son keep the “collecting” bucket in a pan of ice water while he was milking, and now the milk tastes much better.
While my son was getting a bit faster at milking, it was still taking him at least an hour to get a gallon and a half. So, at my dad’s urging, we borrowed an electric milker from a neighbor and now he’s getting two-plus gallons in about fifteen minutes. (Update: this morning it took three minutes.) The whole process still takes time — setting up, washing the milker afterwards — but it’s much faster.
We get hardly any cream! We’re not sure why — is she saving all the hind milk (where the cream is) for the calves? is her diet missing something? is it because she’s a Holstein? — and I’m pretty bummed about it, but, oh well. I never skim the milk. We just shake the cream in before using it, and if I want cream, I buy it from the store.
Yogurt Making A friend told me that boiled milk makes a thicker yogurt, which seemed counterintuitive — one would think that a barely heated milk would allow for more bacterial growth which would then lead to a thicker yogurt — so I experimented: barely heated fresh milk versus boiled milk, and, sure enough, the boiled milk was thicker.
I’ve also tried stirring a bit of xanthan gum into the milk prior to heating and incubating. The resulting yogurt was extremely thick — nearly half of it was whey — but far too tangy and grainy. So never mind that idea.
with the xanthan gum: grainy
I’ve also strained some of the homemade yogurt to make Greek yogurt. I like it, but I think I prefer the looser, non-drained version. It’s lighter and sweeter. More refreshing.
My mom doesn’t like the layer of cream that you get on the top of homemade, raw-milk yogurt and challenged me to figure out a way to make it without that separation. I queried all my raw milk yogurt-making family members and friends, and did a bunch of internet research, but no luck. Apparently, a cream cap on raw milk yogurt is just par for the course. Sorry, Mom. Just scrape off the cream cap and carry on.
The other day I made some yogurt that turned out wildly tangy. I had no idea why; I’d done it the exact same way the day before. Perhaps I’d left it in the incubator for a little too long? But I’ve left it in even longer other times and it’s been fine. The only other thing I could think of was that I was also making two cheeses at the time and perhaps a bit of citric acid dust floated through the air and screwed it all up? Who knows. We fed it to the dogs.
I still haven’t landed on a perfect yogurt-making formula. Sometimes, for whatever reason, there’s more whey on top, or it’s super creamy or extra thick, or it’s unusually sweet. I can’t figure it out. I know a lot of you making your own yogurt at home, so if you’ve discovered some tricks — religiously temping the milk, using fresh starter every time, or using a lot of starter or a very little starter, whatever — please share. I’d love to get really good at this.
Cheesemaking I’ve been steadily experimenting: ricotta, fromage blanc, queso fresco, queso blanco, cuajada (a Nicaraguan farm cheese), paneer, etc. The actual names are sort of confusing, since, in some cases the methods are almost identical — like, paneer and queso blanco are basically the same thing, and ricotta is like paneer but without the pressing, and so on.
set with rennet and mesophilic starter: for queso fresco
The similarities make me think that cheesemaking is, perhaps, a lot like making bread: once you get a feel for it, you can kind be as precise or as casual as you like — it all depends on what you’re going for.
set with rennet: for cuajada
So I’m beginning to relinquish my death grip on the recipes and instead focus on how it feels, messing around with different coagulants and temperatures and methods, as per however the heck I feel and based on what I want. It’s liberating.
curds for queso fresco
So far, cuajada might be my favorite — I’m building the recipe based on memory, and some internet research — and paneer is a close second. Ricotta third.
cuajada
after six hours at 35 pounds of pressure: queso fresco
But these cheeses are quite different from their store-bought equivalents, so you can’t always use them interchangeably. Therefore, I’m working to create my own cheeses that I’ll name based on how I use them. Accurately-named cheeses will help manage expectations and allow me to keep my methods straight in my head.
butter chicken with paneer
cuajada
So… recipes forthcoming, I hope. Stay tuned!
Whey I don’t have a good use for the whey.
I’ve made bread with it — whey in place of water — but while it makes a wonderfully tender bread, it only uses a few cups. And I have gallons.
One friend suggested using the whey to make mint tea. I said that sounded gross. She said, Think mango lassi. Me, Oh.
But then I tried it and, while actually surprisingly good, the tea had a heavier mouthfeel and I’m used to mint tea being light and bright. But I bet it’d be good in a smoothie, yes? (Or it would be, anyway, if I wasn’t already making smoothies to use up all the milk and yogurt.)
And then another friend suggested using the whey in place of water in soups — potato, veggie, chowder, etc — but again: I have gallons of the stuff. Also, it’s not exactly soup weather.
So for now I’m either feeding the whey to the dogs or dumping it down the drain.
One enormous plus of all this milk? We’ve dramatically reduced our plastic waste. I never really thought about it all that much, but now, after a morning of cheese and yogurt making, the counter will be littered with dirty jars and I can’t help but realize how much plastic I’m not using. It’s a pretty cool feeling.
