Valerie Crow

Whitney and Urethra have been rather anti-social since their arrival on the farm, refusing to join the herd. Currently they are residing in the neighbour's paddock. This morning, I needed lard to seal the bandage on my first ever cheddar. Mr Farmer suggested that Whitney and Urethra might like to contribute (since they wont do anything else). We went down to see if they could herd them back up to our paddocks (one last chance to join the herd) - as it happened, they had already joined the herd, if only temporarily. Roger had neglected to tell us about the fleeting relationship he had had with them, which ended with the other ewes shunning Whitney and Urethra, who promptly relocated next door. The end result, however, was little Valerie Crow (Val, to her friends) - a jet-black fluffy little lamb with a few white markings on her face. Whitney and Urethra were somewhat relieved to have the situation out in the open. We suspect Val may have a half sibling on the way, although Whitney and Urethra are keeping very quiet. Lambpost's mum offered to help us out with the lard situation instead (plus tonight's roast dinner, and some sausages).

In other news, I attempted mozarella today, but somewhere along the way some bad bacteria made their way into the milk, so I turned it into Inglis' dinner instead. I suspect the yogurt may have introduced the bacteria.

PHOTO: Val Crow looking for her mummy after the photo shoot she and I had... she got mixed up and ran after Mr Farmer first, then the suffolk ewe, before giving up and popping back through the fence to her real mum.

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!

Since Arthur left, I have been milking Helen twice daily. Apparently milking twelve hours apart helps to maximise production, which means 6.20 am starts. On Sunday evening, production was poor. I didn't bother measuring it, but Mr Farmer saw it and muttered "she's not a real milking goat" (much to Helen's embarrassment). On Monday, production was still low. I've started feeding Helen molasses and more grain at milking time, adjusted my milking technique (the last little bits of milk can be accessed by stripping down from the top, rather than milking from the bottom) and (now that Helen is over Mr Farmer's comments, and is slowly coming to terms with being a milking goat rather than a mum) production is slowly increasing. It is unlikely that she'll ever out-do Katie, but we might make a small batch of feta cheese tomorrow night.

The pigs have still not given birth - however, it is pouring with rain, which usually seems to spur them on.

Still waiting...

Heavily pregnant Bic and Nancy (pictured - picture taken yesterday) spent the day basking in the almost-Spring sun, making the most of their freedom before the piglets arrive.

Helen spend the day crying loudly, to see if Arthur would answer, and to make me feel horribly guilty about letting him leave. To ease the burden, I made a goat milk white sauce for tonight's pork, pumpkin, mushroom and spinach lasagna.

Goodbye Arthur

Arthur moved out this morning. Mum Helen is still a bit upset - she can't understand why he'd choose AnLamb over her home cooking. Arthur has gone to live about half an hour North of the farm, with a large family (four small children, a Nubian goat and a horse to keep him company). He will have his very own wendy house to live in, and hopes to win lots of ribbons in the local school's calf club competition. As a parting gift, Arthur left us $80 for the East Friesian Ewe Fund, which means we now have enough for just under half an East Friesian Ewe.

PHOTO: Arthur, modeling the latest trend in bread-bag raincoats, in the good old days before he left home.

Spring!

Two new additions to the farm arrived today - Rodney and Heather. In typical lamb fashion, they arrived at the beginning of a patch of wet, windy weather. Proud mum is a Suffolk, proud Dad is Roger the Arapawa. This is the first set of twin lambs to arrive since I have been on the farm. In an effort to keep them warm and dry, we made bread-bag raincoats for them. The bread bags are a bit loose, which just shows how tiny the wee lambs really are. I offered to take them in and raise them as my own (in our warm, dry house), but Mr Farmer and their mum objected. Roger wasn't bothered - he just wanted to know if we were going to feed him.

Cliff, Nancy and Kim are out of the bush, thanks to some enticing promises of food from Mr Farmer this afternoon. So far, no piglets...

PHOTOS: The twins and their mum (and, in photo number three, one of the remaining Three Little Pigs) in the miserable almost-Spring weather.

Ouch!

In preparation for his move to a new home (with four children, another goat and a horse), Arthur was rubber-ringed on Sunday. This will mean he will grow into a sweet-smelling, hygiene-conscious wether, not an odorous buck like his father. Although he was initially a little sore, he has since been spotted gamboling around the back garden, so can't be feeling the effects too badly.

In other news, Nancy and Kim are looking rather pregnant, and Cliff is looking decidedly pleased with himself. On Sunday we started feeding them on the house-side of the bush, to make it easier to move them into the paddocks for farrowing. Kim and Nancy are always somewhat reluctant to approach the electric fence line, but Cliff is never bothered (even when the fence is up and on)...

PHOTOS: Arthur keeping out of storm, and a very large-looking Nancy (it's the nipples that give her pregnancy away).

Arthur

At 1.30pm yesterday, Helen gave birth to Arthur, with some assistance from midwife Mrs Farmer. Arthur has his dad's ears, but the unusual colouring comes mostly from his mum (the lighter patches are Trevor's influence, we suspect). Arthur is thinking of becoming a calf club pet, so that his Mum can start using her milk for cheese as soon as possible.

Sausages

One of the three little pigs decided he wanted a change of career today, so we made pork and fennel sausages. Ken the Kenwood Chef and his sausage-making attachment are instrumental in the sausage-making process. The first time we made sausages (over 30kgs of sausages, thanks to a generous contribution from Kevin, one of our old boars) we used a hand-operated mincer. It took days. With Ken, it takes about half an hour. Here is the recipe, adapted from the Kenwood cookbook:

For every 1kg pork:

1t fennel seeds

2T paprika

1t freshly ground black pepper

1/2t salt

50g breadcrumbs

We like to use fatty pork (our first ever sausages were super lean, and as a consequence, super dry). The best texture is obtained by using the smallest mincer attachment, however the fat in the pork has a tendency to clog the attachment up, so only try this if you have plenty of time (and patience) on your hands to keep cleaning it out. An almost-as-good texture is obtained by putting the mince through the large mincer attachment twice before mixing it with the spices.

Once you have your pork mince, combine it with the spices. You'll need sausage casings - we use natural ones bought in bulk from Dunninghams (from memory, we bought about 50 metres of them). They are available from some butchers, but at a considerably larger price. Using Ken again, pipe the sausage mixture into the casings, twisting clockwise then anti-clockwise to make individual sausages.

These are great barbecued on a German barbecue, or oven-baked and served with corn and paprika fritters and a tomato and roast capsicum salsa (tomato, roast red and green capsicum, lemon juice, garlic, cumin and coriander). They are also brilliant on a pizza with homemade goat feta (especially if manuka smoked beforehand).

Photo: Pork and fennel sausages fresh off the sausage-maker. They look slightly more appetizing when cooked.

Whitney and Urethra

Whitney and Urethra moved in yesterday. Roger put in the good word for them, saying that they were (possibly) his (very) distant cousins, and that they were ewes after all (just not east Friesian). Indeed, Whitney and Urethra are Pitt Island sheep - a rare breed found nowhere else in the world, possibly descended from Saxony Merino sheep brought to Pitt Island in the 1800s. Most Pitt Island sheep are black, just like Whitney and Urethra. Unlike Whitney and Urethra, however, Pitt Island sheep are not renowned for their singing abilities. Pitt Island rams grow spectacular horns (very similar to Roger's horns), and Pitt Island ewes can also have horns (although more commonly they just have scurs). Whitney and Urethra are sadly not blessed with horns, but we are all keeping our fingers crossed for their offspring. Lambpost's mother and brother are preparing to move out (possibly into the freezer).

Photo: Urethra (left) and Whitney (right), spotted eating grass by local Paparazzi. Despite both having had an illustrious career in the spotlight, they are somewhat camera shy.

Good news

Mr Farmer has offered Helen the live-in position of Chief Lawnmower, since the ride-on has broken its belt (on the condition that Helen leave the pittosporums alone). Helen has graciously accepted, and will take up her new role immediately.

Photo: Helen (all rugged up for winter) mowing carefully around the pittosporums. Notice also the lack of leaves - Katie's influence on the farm is still apparent...

Lambpost

Today was Lambpost's two-week anniversary. Lambpost is an Arapawa Romney cross - the first lab of the season - his mum (pictured) is the romney, his dad is Roger, is our Arapawa ram. His mum has been a bit cagey - I've only been allowed one cuddle. She is wary of cameras, too - apparently the paparazzi have been hounding her. Roger, on the other hand, will do anything for food (he sold me the photo opportunity for a pie and some salad). I'm curious as to whether Lambpost will grow horns like his dad...

In preparation for encouraging our lambs to do good in the world (and for maximising our grazing), I've started a lease-a-lamb scheme - an opportunity to have two or more lambs grazing your land, fully maintained (drenched, shorn, foot-trimmed), for no charge. Why would anyone want temporary sheep? Sheep are great for maintaining healthy pasture. They graze close to the ground, will eat a wide range of plants, and prefer leafy plants over grass. They are also excellent for the control of parasites - cross-grazing sheep with horses may assist in reducing the worm burden on your pasture, since horse parasites can only exist in horses, and so can't mature with sheep. Sheep can also be used to manage grass in spring - nobody minds a fat sheep, especially when it is helping your horse to maintain a healthy weight! Sheep will graze on land with a steeper contour, so are perfect for keeping the grass and weeds down on those hard-to-mow pieces of land. No wonder Mr Farmer loves his sheep (like any good Southland boy)...

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.

Goodbye, Katie

On Monday (or Sunday, going by blogger.com time), Katie was pronounced dead, having passed away peacefully in her sleep. Out of respect for our oldest and best-producing goat, there has been a two-day moment of blogging silence on the farm. I have yet to tell Trevor (who hasn't been in contact since he met his new girlfriend - we can only assume that no news is good news). Katie will be sadly missed by everyone (with the possible exception of the pittosporums, who felt somewhat threatened by her). Even Mr Farmer was sad. Helen is feeling a little lonely, being the sole goat on the farm - I have tasked her with mowing the front lawn for the funeral, to take her mind off things. She very helpfully offered to trim the pittosporums as well, since Katie can no longer perform the task.

The good news is that four East Friesian ewe lambs in Marton now have our names on them - when they grow their first two permanent teeth (which should have happened by early November) they will be ready to make the long trip northwards. That gives us four months to reach our target for the East Friesian Ewe Fund (and to install a towbar on the farm truck).

Photo: The good old days - Katie (back) and Helen (front) making short work of an unsuspecting tea tree. It was Katie who taught the others how to stand on their hind legs and really annihilate the local vegetation - she and Trevor used to team up, so that one would push a tree over, and the other would pull it down.

Trevor

Today Trevor moved out to live with his new girlfriend, who he met over the internet after receiving marching orders from Mr Farmer. It wasn't his fault - Katie and Helen were the ones who waged war on the pittosporums when they discovered the electric fence was off (they have also been given eviction notices, but haven't yet found a new home). Trevor left in a miniature horse float. He wasn't overly emotional - think he was more apprehensive about meeting his new woman for the first time. I expect that Katie will miss him (he fathered her twins Rogan and Josh, after all), but Helen never really seemed to like him that much.

With Trevor gone, I am now four and a half percent closer to the East Friesian Ewe Fund target.

Photos: Handsome buck Trevor posing for some photos before he left.