Cheesy, Cheesy
Sep. 16th, 2008 12:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_kareliaThe feta sits in little blocks in a box, now salted, and despite the fairly tight-fitting lid, it gives off whiffs of that feta smell. The smell will gradually become stronger over the next three days before it's ready to go into the brine. And my suffering will increase accordingly because I wantz it now. After that, it'll be another two weeks before I can even taste it and at least three to four weeks before it develops its full flavour. I need to make more now so I have a good supply in the near future.
So, while the daughter was at self-defense, Little Man and I went to the Store of Awesome, but today it was the Store of Frustration: The ready-to-eat chicken counter was empty, which disappointed him, but thankfully we found free-range, non-GM-fed chicken leg for him at the meat counter, so he is a happy Little Man tonight after all. The non-homogenized milk shelf was EMPTY. They had freaking everything from Jersey cows, just not the cream-on-top kind. I hope it's temporary, and the sooner they rectify this the better for my happiness.
And because some people asked for more info on making cheese at home, here you go:
Cheese is originally a way to make milk last longer in the days of no refrigeration. But it turned out to be so popular that even once refrigeration became easily available, people continued making it because it was so good. In the old days, there were no factories. Families had some space to live in and some space to grow their food in. Some families preferred animals to growing plants, and bartering was the common currency. So, yes, cheesemaking started off on a really small scale. A goat gives about 1-2 gallons per milking twice a day, a cow probably two to three times that amount. That's a rough estimate—I've never kept a cow. So, on the best day of your one-goat-keeping career, you had four gallons of milk per day. And a few months later, you had to find a male-goat to ensure your goat continued to give milk with only a small break, but that's unimportant here, even though the watching the mating is interesting. Especially in terms of fanfic. Anyways. In the height of summer, you couldn't really keep the milk for longer than a day, a day and a half if you were lucky (meaning you had a basement to keep the milk reasonably cool). So you generally had about eight gallons of milk that you needed to do something about; a gallon or two probably went into being drunk or used in cooking, so about eight gallons max. Have you ever tried lifting eight gallons of liquid? It's damn heavy, and just imagine the size of pot you need to accommodate that amount. So that really was the maximum you wanted.
And so cheese was made. Different kinds of cheeses because temperatures vary when you're dependent on nature and your surroundings, and those play a HUGE role in the process. Assuming that wood and/or coal were quite freely available, it was easy to heat up the milk to boiling and beyond, so that took care of a few cheeses. But what about those that require relatively low temperatures? With the weather a great deal more predictable than it is nowadays, it was relatively easy to determine that tomorrow, judging by the sky and today's temperature, would be around 82F. Which meant the kitchen would be around 86 at least. Maybe even 92F. Oh, goodie! That's the ideal temperature to make feta cheese! Even if it does go up to 96, it'll still be fine; just add a bit of milk from the neighbour's cow, Daisy, which you secured by bartering a wedge of Pecorino you made last autumn, and it'll work fine. You know Daisy's milk is of the best quality; she was one of the season's late birthers and is only about six weeks into the milking thing, which translates into highly nutritious milk. Exactly what you need to improve the quality of your feta. Yes, folks, it was all about quality in the old days. Not convenience, srsly. Well, some cheeses were probably discovered by going the route of convenience, but the good quality stuff? No way.
And then suddenly, September arrived. A time where temperatures were gradually decreasing, but the caves in the hills were maintaining that slightly warmer temeprature than they'd do in early summer after a long winter. And you set out to make the cheeses that took a while ripening. Parmesan, Manchego, Emmenthal, Gruyere. The kitchen was now slightly cooler and you had to work hard maintaining a few gallons at 90F for hours, but you could see the end result in your mind: a wheel of parmesan or pecorino or gruyere or even cheddar or all of them! Not only would you manage to improve the taste of the meals throughout winter but you'd cut off wedges to barter for parsley grown by that mad neighbour who managed to grow it during autumn. Or for basil that mad girl down the road insisted on growing in little pots on the south-facing window.
Then, in October, you have to employ all nine children and the husband to carry all the cheeses to the local cave. The cheeses were doing fine in the basement, but now you really need to be certain of the temperature, and your basement won't guarantee that. The cave, however, will; it warmed up all summer and will maintain its temperature of around 55F until at least early June. And you know you'll have perfect cheese then.
You spend the winter months making yoghurt (which you leave near the stove to ripen), mozzarella (which doesn't need much ripening), more feta (because now the kitchen is quite warm due to the constant use of the stove), and ricotta. Always ricotta. It doesn't yield much, but it's there, and it's good. And you can collect it for a week or two and then make that scrumptious spinach and ricotta lassagne, not only for your family, but the neighbour as well. The one who gives you Daisy's milk in return. Which isn't all that rich anymore, but it still works perfectly well to add to the feta even if you don't exactly need it for temperature.
Essentially, what it comes down to, is to work into the hands of nature. Don't set out making parmesan or any other cheese that takes a few months ripening at 55F in early spring if you live in the South and don't have a fridge that can guarantee that temperature 24/7. Start off easy, make queso blanco or other stuff that doesn't require maturing at a certain temperature for months, see how it goes. If you like the result, venture out to feta and make ricotta from the whey. And the remaining whey you can use to cook pasta/rice/potatoes/whatever or feed it to your critters if you have them.
So there. The whiffs are more frequent now. At least I have those three spoons of ricotta to turn into... what? I think lassagne. I do have baby spinach. And tomatoes.
So, while the daughter was at self-defense, Little Man and I went to the Store of Awesome, but today it was the Store of Frustration: The ready-to-eat chicken counter was empty, which disappointed him, but thankfully we found free-range, non-GM-fed chicken leg for him at the meat counter, so he is a happy Little Man tonight after all. The non-homogenized milk shelf was EMPTY. They had freaking everything from Jersey cows, just not the cream-on-top kind. I hope it's temporary, and the sooner they rectify this the better for my happiness.
And because some people asked for more info on making cheese at home, here you go:
Cheese is originally a way to make milk last longer in the days of no refrigeration. But it turned out to be so popular that even once refrigeration became easily available, people continued making it because it was so good. In the old days, there were no factories. Families had some space to live in and some space to grow their food in. Some families preferred animals to growing plants, and bartering was the common currency. So, yes, cheesemaking started off on a really small scale. A goat gives about 1-2 gallons per milking twice a day, a cow probably two to three times that amount. That's a rough estimate—I've never kept a cow. So, on the best day of your one-goat-keeping career, you had four gallons of milk per day. And a few months later, you had to find a male-goat to ensure your goat continued to give milk with only a small break, but that's unimportant here, even though the watching the mating is interesting. Especially in terms of fanfic. Anyways. In the height of summer, you couldn't really keep the milk for longer than a day, a day and a half if you were lucky (meaning you had a basement to keep the milk reasonably cool). So you generally had about eight gallons of milk that you needed to do something about; a gallon or two probably went into being drunk or used in cooking, so about eight gallons max. Have you ever tried lifting eight gallons of liquid? It's damn heavy, and just imagine the size of pot you need to accommodate that amount. So that really was the maximum you wanted.
And so cheese was made. Different kinds of cheeses because temperatures vary when you're dependent on nature and your surroundings, and those play a HUGE role in the process. Assuming that wood and/or coal were quite freely available, it was easy to heat up the milk to boiling and beyond, so that took care of a few cheeses. But what about those that require relatively low temperatures? With the weather a great deal more predictable than it is nowadays, it was relatively easy to determine that tomorrow, judging by the sky and today's temperature, would be around 82F. Which meant the kitchen would be around 86 at least. Maybe even 92F. Oh, goodie! That's the ideal temperature to make feta cheese! Even if it does go up to 96, it'll still be fine; just add a bit of milk from the neighbour's cow, Daisy, which you secured by bartering a wedge of Pecorino you made last autumn, and it'll work fine. You know Daisy's milk is of the best quality; she was one of the season's late birthers and is only about six weeks into the milking thing, which translates into highly nutritious milk. Exactly what you need to improve the quality of your feta. Yes, folks, it was all about quality in the old days. Not convenience, srsly. Well, some cheeses were probably discovered by going the route of convenience, but the good quality stuff? No way.
And then suddenly, September arrived. A time where temperatures were gradually decreasing, but the caves in the hills were maintaining that slightly warmer temeprature than they'd do in early summer after a long winter. And you set out to make the cheeses that took a while ripening. Parmesan, Manchego, Emmenthal, Gruyere. The kitchen was now slightly cooler and you had to work hard maintaining a few gallons at 90F for hours, but you could see the end result in your mind: a wheel of parmesan or pecorino or gruyere or even cheddar or all of them! Not only would you manage to improve the taste of the meals throughout winter but you'd cut off wedges to barter for parsley grown by that mad neighbour who managed to grow it during autumn. Or for basil that mad girl down the road insisted on growing in little pots on the south-facing window.
Then, in October, you have to employ all nine children and the husband to carry all the cheeses to the local cave. The cheeses were doing fine in the basement, but now you really need to be certain of the temperature, and your basement won't guarantee that. The cave, however, will; it warmed up all summer and will maintain its temperature of around 55F until at least early June. And you know you'll have perfect cheese then.
You spend the winter months making yoghurt (which you leave near the stove to ripen), mozzarella (which doesn't need much ripening), more feta (because now the kitchen is quite warm due to the constant use of the stove), and ricotta. Always ricotta. It doesn't yield much, but it's there, and it's good. And you can collect it for a week or two and then make that scrumptious spinach and ricotta lassagne, not only for your family, but the neighbour as well. The one who gives you Daisy's milk in return. Which isn't all that rich anymore, but it still works perfectly well to add to the feta even if you don't exactly need it for temperature.
Essentially, what it comes down to, is to work into the hands of nature. Don't set out making parmesan or any other cheese that takes a few months ripening at 55F in early spring if you live in the South and don't have a fridge that can guarantee that temperature 24/7. Start off easy, make queso blanco or other stuff that doesn't require maturing at a certain temperature for months, see how it goes. If you like the result, venture out to feta and make ricotta from the whey. And the remaining whey you can use to cook pasta/rice/potatoes/whatever or feed it to your critters if you have them.
So there. The whiffs are more frequent now. At least I have those three spoons of ricotta to turn into... what? I think lassagne. I do have baby spinach. And tomatoes.