Mozzarella Capra (American style)

Fresh mozzarella capra -
delicious with tomato and
basil, if your basil survives
dust-bathing chickens (ours
didn't)

Helen had almost banned mozzarella making, because until recently, it had always ended in dismal failure, and wasted milk. Then one Sunday, for no apparent reason, a real American* mozzarella emerged from the farmhouse kitchen.

Mozzarella cabra - ingredients

4 L goat milk
1 1/4 t citric acid
1/2 t rennet dissolved in 1/4 C water

1. Heat the milk to 88°F. Just before the milk reaches 88°F, sprinkle the citric acid over the top** and stir in. When the milk reaches 88°F, stir in the rennet.

2. Sit for an hour, or until a clean break is achieved. During this time, prepare your brine - combine 8 oz (225 g)  salt with 1 quart (1 liter) of boiled water. Leave to cool (in the fridge or freezer, if need be).

3. When a clean break is achieved, cut curds into 1" (2.4 cm) squares, and drain off a little whey, leaving enough to cover the curds. Sit for 10 minutes.

4. Stir the curds, and cut any that didn't get cut into 1" squares. Heat slowly to 108°F (this is easiest done by placing your pot of curds in a sink or bucket of hot water), and stand at 108°F for 40 minutes, occasionally stirring gently. During this time your curds will matt together and become slightly elastic.

5. Over a stove, heat curds and whey to 140°F, kneading with a spoon whilst heating:

5 a. The curds will knit together - fold them over and press into one another with a spoon. Between 120 and 130°F the curds will become increasingly elastic - dangle them off the edge of your spoon to start stretching them:

Curds at 120°F - starting to get pliable

130°F - starting to get elastic
(but still a long way to go)

Stretchy - almost there...

Smoother and stretchier - progress!

Approaching 140°F...

 5 b. Eventually (by 140°F), you will be able to stretch the curds with two hands:

Stretch! at 140°F, very elastic
(no hands pictured,
as one is busy operating the camera)

Should the curds lose their stretch, simply dip back in the hot whey, fold with your spoon, then resume kneading.

5 c. Knead and stretch until your curds are shiny and smooth.

Brine - fresh mozzarella still shows
the layers from stretching.

6. Drop your ball of mozzarella into the cold brine and leave for 10 to 30 minutes, depending on how salty you like it.

7. Reassure your goat that her milk didn't go to waste - this time.

8. Apologize to the pigs, who have always enjoyed failed mozzarella in the past.

Store*** fresh mozzarella in the fridge. A perfectly successful batch of mozzarella will melt when heated. Less successful batches retain their shape somewhat under heat, but are apparently still perfectly edible.

*The difference between American and Italian mozzarella appears to be due to the addition of citric acid in American mozzarella - the citric acid speeds up the acidification process quite significantly. With Italian mozzarella, acidification occurs due to the use of a slower-acting culture (like buttermilk).


**If the citric acid is not stirred into the milk very quickly, it will cause the milk to curdle instantly. If this happens, don't panic - your curds will look funny and wobbly when you cut them (it won't look like a proper clean break, no matter how long you wait), but your mozzarella should still turn out just fine.

***Fresh mozzarella has a limited shelf life. Over the next few weeks, Helen and I will try brining mozzarella, to make it last longer.

Halloumi

Halloumi, with good friends Greek salad and
lemon-garlic dressing

(and a bit of ricotta)

4 L goat milk
1 t rennet dissolved in 1 t water
10 T salt

1. Heat milk to 95°F (35°C).
2. Add the rennet dissolved in water, and whisk in. Cover and leave to sit 1 hour, or until a clean break is achieved.
3. Cut the curds into 1" squares, and rest 10 minutes.
4. Spoon the curds out to drain in a cheesecloth - retain the whey (you'll need it all). Leave the curds to hang for 24 hours.
5. Meanwhile, combine 4 C whey with the salt, and refrigerate - this makes your brine. Refrigerate the rest of the whey - you'll need it for cooking your curds.
6. After the curds have hung for 24 hours, cut them into chunks. We cut our curds into four, giving us chunks 1" thick.
7. Heat the whey to 194°F (90°C) - watch the temperature closely, and don't exceed 203°F (95°C). As the whey heats, ricotta will start to form on the surface. You can skim this off and put aside - or ignore it (it makes only a small amount, which annoys Mr Farmer, but it is very tasty).
8. Cook the curds in the whey for 30 minutes, watching the temperature closely. The chunks of curd should be almost spongy after cooking.
9. Remove the curds from the whey, drain until cool, then add to brine. Leave 24 hours, to let the flavor develop.
10. Give a treat to the generous goat who provided you with the milk.

Better with Feta

Spring came. The sheep gave birth, the chicks hatched, and the grass grew. Helen's tummy got bigger and bigger, but no goat kids arrived.

Helen had been living with Albie throughout Winter. Albie was sure he was the father of the unborn kid - after all, Roger hadn't been anywhere near Helen. Roger replied that in that case, it had to be a phantom pregnancy.

Helen kept silent, until this afternoon, when Feta was born. Albie was elated. There was nothing sheepish about Feta. Roger had to agree. Little Feta was decidedly goaty. It was the nose, Roger said. Roman. And the ears. They were big - Nubian, almost. Yes, said Roger, little Feta looked just like a goat he knew. That one that Helen used to hang around with. Yes, said Roger, Feta looks just like Helen's ex-boyfriend Trevor.

Caprino Romano

Ugly but delicious: caprino romano (a first attempt)

With thanks to Helen, who provided the milk last year (and Albie, who was indirectly involved in milk production).

for the cheese:
4 L goats milk
1/4 t rennet
1/2 C acidophilus yogurt (we use De Winkel)

for the brine:
1.5 C salt
4 C hot water

Heat milk to 32°C, stir in culture. Ripen 1 hour, covered.
Meanwhile, dissolve rennet in 3 to 4 T water. Once milk has ripened, add rennet to milk, whisk in thoroughly.
Leave 90 minutes, or until a clean break is obtained.
Cut curds into 1/4" cubes, rest 10 minutes.
Raise the temperature very slowly to 46°C, to dry out the curds. This should take about 45 minutes. Stir the curds gently every few minutes, to prevent them from matting together.
Once 46°C is reached, drain*, place curds in a cheesecloth-lined mold.
Press at 4.5kg for 30 minutes.
Flip, press at 11.4kg for 3 hours.
Press at 18 kg for 12 hours. When you start this stage, prepare your brine (this gives the brine enough time to cool).
Remove cheese from press, and carefully peel off cheesecloth**.
Float in cold brine for 12 hours, flipping at least 3 times.
Remove, pat dry, and age in a cool, dry space*** for at least 5 months. During the first two weeks of aging, flip the cheese daily. Thereafter, flip weekly, or whenever you remember.

Apparently you can age for up to a year, if you have the patience. The result after about 6 months of aging is a subtle, mild, but tasty Romano.

If you find your cheese is developing mold on the outside, remove the mold (with salt and vinegar, or a knife), and rub the outside with salt.

Romano is a great substitute for Parmesan cheese - perfect grated fresh over pasta, or added sparingly to a pizza. We have continued to keep ours in the cheese cupboard, and not in the fridge.

*Our recipe said to hold at 46°C for 30 to 45 minutes before draining, but we couldn't get the curds to matt together afterwards, so we skipped this step the second time around, with a much better result.

**Some recipes suggest piercing the cheese all over with a fork before brining, presumably to allow the salty brine to get into the cheese. We weren't sure ours would stand up to the fork treatment, but will try this next time.

***Mr Farmer was kind enough to install a metal rack in the top of our former vacuum cleaner cupboard. The former vacuum cleaner cupboard - now the cheese cupboard - is cool, dark, airy, and (relative to other areas of the house) has low humidity. It is perfect for aging the cheese, although the now-homeless vacuum cleaner feels slightly jilted.

Vindie-Lou, intrepid explorer

Vindie-Lou, intrepid day-old explorer.

Vindie hasn't been bothered by recent weather conditions, except at 2 yesterday morning, when she decided that it was too cold and too dark and too early to come out for milk, which upset Helen (who got vocal enough about it to wake me up). In Vindie's defence, it was so cold that there was ice on the ground outside, and she did look really snug. However, Helen was worried, so Vindie was roused out of bed and transported to the milk bar so that the rest of us could go back to sleep.

Vindie-Lou, day-old figure skater.

Albie met Vindie yesterday. Vindie wanted to know if his udder produced milk, but couldn't find the teats. Albie found the whole situation kind of embarrassing and awkward - apparently it isn't a dad's job to educate one's kid about that sort of stuff.

Helen has been producing milk overtime. Her teats are nearly as big as Vindie's head. Vindie does her best, but she just can't keep up with production (it's exhausting work, apparently - Vindie spends much of the time asleep). I milked a litre and a quarter from Helen on Tuesday morning, and a litre and a half yesterday morning, and a litre today because Vindie was up early. Helen still has plenty to spare (not that she was overly appreciative of my efforts to relieve the udder pressure).

Two-day-old Vindie-Lou and new BFF Trusty Sidekick,
just chilling.

Vindie-Lou, two-day-old mummy's girl.

Tuesday and Wednesday's milk has been made into a miniature batch of feta, following the same method I used early last season, but using rather elderly acidophilus yogurt as the starter culture (that was all we had), and the exciting new floating dairy thermometer that Mr Farmer brought home. The exciting new floating dairy thermometer is exciting because it replaces an old thermometer that recently decided that everything would be 15°C. The major downside is that the exciting new floating dairy thermometer floats with the temperature side down, and the temperatures (when yo can see them) are in Fahrenheit - somewhat confusing for someone who has converted her cheese recipes to Celsius - but it makes up for that by having labels at various temperatures for "freeze" "churn" "cheese" "pasteurise" and "water boils". The curds are currently draining in home-made cheese molds, which replace cheesecloth because they claim to be less messy. This claim pleases Mr Farmer immensely.

Proud mum Helen and two-day-old Vindie-Lou.

Helen has been mowing the lawn next door, which is steep and, with the current sodden ground, inaccessible even by our neighbour's seasoned ride-on mower (a petrol-powered one, not a grass-powered one like we had). Vindie usually wakes up in time to join Helen for lunch, then has a long afternoon nap in the bushes, after which it is about time to come home with her mum for the evening.

Feta

Helen and I have been making feta.

Every morning, Helen is waiting for me at the gate, rain or shine (even on weekends - that's dedication for you). If she thinks I am late (or maybe that I have forgotten) she calls out loudly. The same thing happens in the evening - and every time she sees me during the day. I suspect she is in it for the Fiskens Dairy Meal and miscellaneous vegetable scraps she gets at milking time, rather than for my company. In any case, we have milk - lots of milk - so it is time for some cheese.

Pasteurizing, with high-tech thermometer holder for
constant temperature readings.

Helen suggested I start out with something we know how to make, so our first cheese was a feta. Unfortunately there were some nasty bacteria in the cheese cloth, so that one got fed to Inglis the piglet. The next batch is in the fridge, expected to be ready in two days' time (and probably to be served on a home-made pizza with home-made chorizo sausage). The third batch is the one in the photos - I put it in brine today. The fourth batch was cut and hung today.

When I first started making feta, the general consensus on the internet appeared to be straight forward. Now, however, there are several variations on feta making processes, which Helen and I (or maybe even the East Friesian Ewes and I, depending on the fund) will eventually try. Our "traditional" recipe goes like this:

Cutting the curd

First, slowly heat 4 litres of milk to 68°C in a stainless steel pot, and hold it at this temperature for an hour. The temperature is apparently very important - though last season there were several instances where I got distracted and let the milk overheat, with no discernible ill effects (I was only a few degrees over the target temperature every time). In any case, a thermometer is important, and Helen and I would like to thank Mr Farmer for lending us his thermometer.

Stirring the curd after it has rested - some pieced need
cutting again.

After an hour, let the milk cool to 35°C (you can skip the first step and just start with 35°C milk - it may enhance the taste, but may also let unwanted bacteria continue to live in your cheese.) Add a tablespoon of acidophilus yogurt (we use DeWinkel), mix in thoroughly, and leave for an hour.

Right after you have mixed in the yogurt, combine half a cup of cold water and a half teaspoon of rennet (available at all good Countdown stores) - it would appear that it is important to let this stand for an hour before adding it. This step is often forgotten, so I have found that 20 minutes of standing time works just as well. After an hour, add the rennet, and mix it in thoroughly. I use a whisk (hence the bubbly surface in the photos). Let it stand, covered, at room temperature overnight.

draining the curds in cheese cloth

In the morning, or when the curds are firm, cut the curds. You need a 'clean break' - curds with a similar consistency to crème caramel. Cut in centimetre-ish strips one way, angling the knife to one side as you move along, then turn the pot 90° and do the same thing. Leave it to sit for 10 minutes, then stir very gently. I read a recipe from someone who only ever uses plastic to stir the curds, as it doesn't damage them - but plastic holds odours (and all our kitchen utensils are multi-purpose), so to be on the safe side I use the curd-cutting knife - again, with no ill effects. Next - if you like firm feta - heat the curds slowly to 30°C (40°C seems to work, too), cover and hold it at this temperature for 45 minutes. This makes the curds firmer, but the recipe works just fine if you skip this step. It is a good idea to stir gently every ten minutes, but if you forget, the curds will just clump together a bit (which actually makes them easier to get out of the pot).

State-of-the-art cheese hanging device

I used to just pour the curds and whey through a cheese cloth, but this is very messy. Now, I use a stainless steel slotted spoon to get the bigger curds out into the cheese cloth, and pour the remaining curds and whey on top. Over-handling the curds can apparently make the cheese tough and plasticky. So can pressing it too much (so I don't press feta at all). Keep the whey that drains off - this makes the brine. You can make it with water instead of whey, but it doesn't taste as good.

Curd, drained, cut in half, and ready to be sliced
into smaller sections for salting and brining.

Hang your cheese cloth somewhere (I use the laundry tub) for 12 hours (or 24 if you are brave - we did one like this and it tasted brilliant. The next one got contaminated). After this, cut it into slices, salt the surfaces with un-iodised salt, put into a container, and leave at room temperature for 12 hours (or 24, or 48 - if it isn't too hot, you can get away with anything). This helps to drain even more moisture from the curds.

Next, pour your brine over - 2 cups of whey and 5 tablespoons of salt. In batch number two I used 5 teaspoons of salt instead - will have to wait until Wednesday to see how it tastes**. The acidity of the brine is important; if it isn't acidic, your cheese will melt (so I have read, anyway) - but apparently leaving the whey at room temperature for 12 hours will make it nice and acidic. The cheese needs to sit in the brine for at least a week - the longer the better (to a point, anyway). Store it in the brine, rinsing each piece before you eat it. This makes a lovely, soft, creamy, spreadable feta. I'm working on a dry crumbly version (but we are very fond of the current version).

Hygiene is very important during this process - I spray my utensils with diluted bleach (then rinse them) before using, and boil my cheese cloths before I use them. You'll know if you have bad bacteria in your cheese - the smell is very distinctive, and the spongy texture and small round holes are a dead giveaway. Our chickens, pigs, and Inglis the piglet love the occasional batch of bad-bacteria cheese...

November is drawing very close, and the East Friesian Ewe Fund has almost enough for half a ewe. Might be time to start convincing Mr Farmer to let Helen get a boyfriend, instead...

** 5 teaspoons was insufficient, and the cheese went moldy. Stick to 5 tablespoons.

Milk and cheese... eventually

I found an exciting (more scientific) site all about making cheese. Helen is getting progressively rounder, which means we will have a source of milk again in the next few months. Although she's unlikely to outstrip Katie in the milk-production department, she should do better this time round, as it will be her second kid (keep your fingers crossed for a girl). In any case, we will have feta again. I'm hoping to branch out to pecorino romano, and goat milk cheddar. I'm particularly excited about the cheddar, which is supposed to be tangier (and whiter, due to the goats' more efficient carotene conversion) than cows' milk cheddar - but the attraction of feta (aside from its taste) is that it is quick and easy to make.

Photo: Milk from Helen, from last season. It was quite a battle convincing Mr Farmer to try the goat milk (in non-cheese form). He (like so many other people) thought it would taste "goaty". In fact, a goaty flavour in the milk is due to the (smelly) buck being in with the does, or because of poor milking hygiene. Eventually Mr Farmer succumbed (when I stopped buying milk from the supermarket), and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it tasted "just like real milk." He had it in his coffee for the rest of the season... Can't wait to try him on sheep milk.