Making Cheese

Last Saturday evening, Jessica and I made cheese. It’s something I have threatened to do for years, but never got around to. My mom kept saying I was going to kill myself with some weird mold. Back in the day, I used to make my own beer and wine. She called it “bath-tub gin.” I loved the creative outlet, the time doing something fundamentally human, something that was living and breathing, without too much technology. Cheese, I figured, would do something similar for me. Plus, there’s really nothing like fresh and homemade anything. And usually, whether it’s beer or cheese, the stuff you get at the store is the lowest common denominator—how little taste can it have and still be called beer or cheese? [Let it be stated that I do not drink alcohol anymore. I just use the lack of taste as an example.]

We made cheddar cheese (we think. In another month, we’ll see…) It was pretty simple, really. Cook milk, add rennet (to make the proteins coagulate), dump out the whey (sad, because it tastes really sweet—all the solid stuff removed, sugar water remains). Salt the curds. Press them into a mold. I bought a cheese press to put the required pressure on it overnight to squeeze out moisture. Then let it air dry until it has a rind on it. Then wax it, which we did last night. 2 pounds of cheese.

We had so much fun, I think we’ll do it again tomorrow, with the boys. I think we’ll do another cheddar, to keep getting used to it. What we’re really looking forward to is making mozzarella when the first tomatoes come ripe…

I have found a supplier of fresh milk a few miles up the road. Milk straight from the cow… I can’t wait to take the boys up there and let them milk cows. And then, to make one of the soft cheeses, with raw milk. If I get to fantasizing, I think it would be nice to have some goats and have fresh milk right outside. Harper thinks we can have two goats here and two goats back on 12^th Street. I can see it now, The Mad Goat Lady of Lexington, shepherding goats back and forth across the 05 to rotate “pasture.” She’s more than half-way there, y’all.

I’ll let you know in a month how things turn out. Maybe there will be a tasting for the few, the brave…