Forgive the long absence – it’s busy-busy time at work, and I had to replace my sick computer, which involved a whole weekend of backing up and transferring, then trying to figure out the enigma known as Windows 8. So. The reconstituted goat cheese was a failure. Bowed and humbled, I’m going back to basics this week, and trying chevre again. My husband happened to be traveling through a state that allows raw milk sales, and was kind enough to pick me up three glorious gallons of raw goat milk, which went promptly into the freezer. (It can be frozen for up to 30 days with no noticeable problems.) Yes, I’ve done goat cheese already, but that was my very first blog post and I was just trying to figure this shit out. Also I’m craving goat cheese, and I need another tick in the win column for my ego.
Since I’m trying to ration out the milk, this will be a small batch – just a half gallon. And after my last extreme failure and a huge effing mess from the cheesecloth getting all slippery, I’m going to experiment (no!) with poultry stuffing bags. These pretty much look like cut-off fish-net tights, but they were on deep clearance after Thanksgiving last year ($.59 each!) and I thought what the hell? Turning four layers of cheesecloth into a tidy bindle and hanging to drain is quite difficult. I also bought straining bags from a local brew store that look almost identical to the poultry bags, and will keep those for future cheeses. So maybe my project today is simplifying goat cheese instead of a frenzied whey-splashed nightmare. Maybe. Also pictured are my rennet and mesophilic starter culture.
The bags look like really inefficient condoms.
The recipe and directions are simple, and I’m starting to wonder why it was so crazy last time. Heat the milk slowly to around 87 degrees. Sprinkle the starter over the top and gently stir in. Add a drop of rennet to a tablespoon of water and gently stir in. Cover and let sit. Don’t poke it! The directions say overnight, but I let this go for fourteen hours to avoid having to get up at 5:00 a.m. to strain cheese before work, like I’m Ma-freaking-Ingalls or something.
I double up the poultry bags and ladle in the curds. Right away I can tell that I’m some sort of genius – the bags are SO much easier than piles and layers of cheesecloth. The top ties off nicely and a bamboo skewer slips right through. I hang the bag to drain at room temperature and truck off to bed.
In the morning I can see that this is going well – the whey that has drained off is almost completely clear, showing that the curds set thoroughly and the milk fat stayed in the cheese instead of draining out. Again, my dog tucks right into the whey. Into the fridge it goes while I put in my eight hours for the powers that have always been. (Sing it chile.) ‘Til it’s 5:00 p.m.
(That’s a Little Shop of Horrors reference, BTW.)
Home from work, and I have me some delicious cheese.
I mix in some cheese salt (or kosher, or non-iodized table salt) and eat up. Raw milk is decidedly goatish, but lovely nonetheless. I roll it into logs, then it will be served in two preparations – one drizzled in Elkview Farm honey harvested by my very own BFF, and one covered in Italian herbs and minced sundried tomatoes.
So here we are – something that nearly killed me six months ago is now as easy as pie. The keys are good milk (thanks, sweetie), and patience. Patience to not poke.
illdothedisheslater 