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Cheese Dreams

When I first got into cheese making I had big dreams. Cheese dreams. In these dreams floated words like brie, manchego, stilton, french style coulommiers, shardy parmesan.........I was convinced I would be churning out these cheeses from our fresh goats milk cheese in no time flat.

I grind my own flour for bread, I bake from scratch, I don't mind admitting- I have prowess in the kitchen. I live in the kitchen. Its my turf, I cook barefoot and bra-less with Nina Simone blaring on my stereo, and give me an onion and garlic clove and I can make a meal outta nothin. So, I was completely confident I would be making nationally recongnized cheeses in no time, just needed a few months to get my swing going.

But the reality of cheese has been somewhat different. Or rather my reality of cheese. First of all, its a very proper process, requiring very proper ways. Now. I am a lot of things, but quite honest about my real shortcomings and I am lacking in the proper department. And quite frankly, even to someone who has prowess in the kitchen, cheese making is a dedicated art- it takes time, concentration, and attention to detail. A minimum of distraction is necessary. Cleanliness is uber important.

All of these things as you see, are working against me in my kitchen. My kitchen is a blissed out crazed orgy of invisible livestock- wild bacteria and yeast- bubbling and gurggling from ferments like kombucha, kefir, ales, krauts, kimchees and sourdough.....

I have boys running thru at all times, chirping at me like baby birds- hungry! hungry! (The big one too!)

I run out often to chase loose chickens or goats in the yard- I need to pop out the back door to hang laundry on the line. Every four hours, I feed my little goat and get distracted in the barn. I put out three home cooked meals a day, bake bread, I put up herbal medicine and still try to find several hours a day to spend in the woods. My emails stack up like like pancakes in my inbox. The garden is always waiting to get the upper hand and plunge into the abyss of unrestrained growth. The kids need their table time and my help to do their homeschool paperwork. They are constantly into something, half of which on any given day, involves nails, power tools, saws or swinging through the branches of trees 30 feet off the ground. I need to supervise somewhat, or at least give an appearance, if only to chime in that "hey- launching yourself from the top of the hay pile supported only by baler twine hanging from the barn rafters is not the best idea, get a real rope...."

Suffice it to say, I'm busy. It's a good busy. Its my *hearts delight* busy, but I am still busy.

In the world of cheese, you can mess up and it will still be pretty good- or at least you can give it another incarnation. Do what I do and give it another name, more fitting to what actually *came to be* rather than *what you set out for*.

But you can't forget it and treat it roughly, you can't overcook it, and timing is everything. And on top of that there are great expanses of time in between each of these steps, giving ample time for the distractable mama to slip up and land not so neatly on her flubbery, rubberly whey and curd mess.

This makes it especially challenging for me. I came to realize I did not have the sort of time to stand over my delicate curds, misting them, cooing to them, and turning them gently perfectly balancing their moisture content, while the whole other homestead is a calling. The cooing became cursing and another strategy was born.

So, what I ended up with years later is a good working hand of cheeses. Working hand being a handful of tried and true kitchen workhorse cheeses that my family loves to eat and that are relatively foolproof as far as crafting them in my often chaotic kitchen.

And brie unfortunately is not one of them. Wah. Sniff.

I console myself with dreams of becoming a real cheese maker when I am older. When the kids are grown. When things settle down. When my mind is uncluttered enough to give full attention to cheese, and I won't have to run around with a timer clipped on my collar bleeping into my ear. The kind of day that will open up and say, ahhh! What to do today?? with my whole day open and free?? oh! I think I will make cheese today!

Then I will build me a cave to age them and spend my afternoons as a goat herder taking in all the subtle nuances of the plants here...... I will wax poetic about said plant essences and I will dust my cheeses with flower pollen and stand over them admiring their rind development, injecting them carefully by sterilized needle with Penicillium roqueforti.... I will become exact and wielding of percentages of humidity and degree, arguing the differences between of sole Geotrichum candidum cheeses or love childs of Pencillium candidum and Geotrichum.....yeah, THAT.

So now, in this current lifetime, the humble language of my kitchen in regards to cheese and the spring surge of milk goes something like this:

Chevre, mozzarella, ricotta, farm cheese, wise woman cheese, sortakinda cheddar, provolone, and feta. Like me, they are plain spoken and to the point.

I infuse many of these cheeses with wild weeds, mixing them with curd and then pressing. The weeds are showcased against a brilliant canvas of white and suspended in the cheese giving it added dimension. Against this background of creamy or sharp white, the herbs and weeds sing and share their medicine in each hefty round. Be it the flecky sharpness of Monarda fistulosa leaves, or Tropaeolum majus, or the delicate likes of Malva neglecta flowers or Calendula officinalis petals, each cheese sings to its own beat and rhythm and is an invocation of the land here that surrounds me.

I store the feta and mozzarella in herbal oil flecked with bits of chili, garlic, or sundried tomato, and slather the aged cheeses with lard. These cheeses I do not think would win any awards but they are good, really good, if I do say so myself. And they fit my life.

Often I do cheater cheese, which is hurry up cheese, busy mama cheese. My family still eats it up. Cheese is something glorious, even when its not brie....

So here is my cheater cheese recipe for ricotta, adapted from Ricki Carroll's book "Home Cheese making", which is an excellent beginners cheese book if you are interested in home cheese making......this is cheater because its made from whole milk, not whey which is traditional for ricotta. Ricotta actually means to "recook" and what is recooked is the whey from hard cheese making. This one is a bit different. Its almost impossible to mess up, the easiest of the easy.

Its also a great recipe because it can be made in reasonable time just before a meal.
It can be used in so many ways limited only by your imagination.....stuffed into anything mixed with weed pesto- meat or pasta-get your pasta roller out if you are feeling ambitious and have the time....

You can make ricotta dumplings or gnocchi with weeds or store greens and toss with brown sage butter.... you can make ricotta pancakes for breakfast, or you can just simply scoop it out and put it on salad for a quick and nourishing lunch.

Ricotta makes a great base for veggie burgers- just mix in some egg and ground nuts or sesame seeds, any variety of greens or shredded veg like carrot, mushed sweet potato, whatever suits you, and pack it into patties to fry or bake. Top with lacto fermented radish, or a dollop of zucchini relish.

Ricotta really takes a front seat in many Italian cookbooks and you can glean many ideas in those books as well.

Its even great as a dessert, fresh and drizzled with raw honey and sprinkled with nuts with fresh grated nutmeg.

Quick Ricotta

Heat one gallon of raw goats milk to 195 F (do not boil)

Slowly stir in 1/4 cup cider vinegar, watching for separation of the whey. If it separates with less vinegar, great, stop there. You want to separate the whey while adding the least amount of vinegar possible. If no separation, you can heat up to 205 F.

Using a slotted spoon, spoon out the curds....or pouring gently into a colander lined with cheesecloth, pour the curds into that. Drain for a minute or two, put the curds into a bowl and mix in a nice size pinch of baking soda and drizzle with melted butter, at least a couple tablespoons. Toss gently and add a pinch of salt. You can store this up to a week, but its really best fresh.

Enjoy!