learning to be human, since 1984
food
Morbier, Mozzarella and Chevre – Oh My!
Jun 16th
I’m losing count of how many times I start a post with “It’s been awhile since I last wrote”. But it has.
And since then, I’ve fallen into the rabbit-hole universe of cheese-making.
It started with a trip to Minors, to get some gear for the community garden my friends and I are working in. Already on the North-West side of town, we stopped at Larry’s Market – and met the man himself. He offered us countless varieties: Marieke Foenegreek Gouda, blue, mobay, dill havarti, and others – from all over Europe and Wisconsin.
And then I saw it – the morbier (not to be confused with mobay, though they look similar). Sitting in the case, the black-ash dividing the morning from the evening milk, I couldn’t resist trying it again; and how could Larry refuse to comply?
The strong, almost acrid flavor was still there. But unlike the first time I tried it, the richness and depth of flavor in the milk were the most notable features. I still don’t regard it as a favorite cheese, but it certainly verifies my suspicions that the cheese case at the Downer Sendik’s is:
- A) poorly and irregularly stocked
- B) not sufficiently refrigerated
-or-
Whatever the (cheese) case, I probably won’t shy from morbier again, unless it’s at Sendik’s.
While at Larry’s, I mentioned a friend whose parents owns Saxon Creamery, in Cleveland, WI. Larry and his son talked up Mr. and Mrs. Heimerl, and said that Jerry would be in the following day. Five minutes later, he walks out of the back of the shop, so we tried their famous Big Ed variety. Amazing. Creamy and almost sweet, but with a sharpness that only a good aging can add.
I was hooked. I started reading cheese-making books, frequenting websites, watching both small and large batch cheese-making videos. I already regularly made my own yogurt – goat milk paneer didn’t seem harder. And in fact, it was easier to strain because the curd is larger.
While at an acquaintance’s birthday gathering, I discovered her husband makes his own cheeses, and works at the Wisconsin Cheese Mart. We discussed designs for cheese presses, and building earthen caves for aging our creations. All surrounding activity seemed to hum like timelapse video footage. Not surprisingly, the birthday-woman was not want of interest.
I stopped by the shop after a co-worker told me about the Sartori Merlot Cheese – which I regret expressing skepticism towards. But I bought some, and it was tasty, as were the goudas, the petit frère, and most notably, the Pleasant Ridge Reserve, which I’m told is made with unpasteurized milk from cows that graze on different cover crops each year.
Two weeks ago I stayed in central Wisconsin for several days, near Wausau. While shopping in town at Farm & Home , I happened upon a New England Cheesemaking kit for just shy of $20, and cheese and other dairy cultures. I also hope to visit The CheeseMaker, in Cedarburg. In the next several months down the yellow brick (cheddar, perhaps?) cheese road, I hope to make:
- mozzarella
- chevre
- a cheese press
- a cheese cave
- some sort of hard cheese…maybe cheddar
- gruyère (someday)
I’ve got a few raw milk sources, getting more gear, and support and enthusiasm from friends and family. I’ll post the results, perhaps!
More Morbier?
Feb 24th
It seems most people who are opposed to trying new foods cling to a childhood detest. While willing to hold their hand in flavor-adventures, I am more concerned with those who say “I’ll try anything once”. These people should realize the huge range of flavors, textures, smells, and other qualities that can exist within a single type of food. Onions for example can range wildly in sugar or sulfur content. Hummus can vary in texture and tartness, amongst other things.
What I’m getting at is that it takes a lot for me not to like something; I’ll try anything twice, at least, and usually more—probably until the day I die. I have to. I have to, because one instance of food does not represent the entire class which it represents.
So it shocked me when I found something that made me gag. Seriously. I almost threw up upon smelling it. I never almost throw up. Maybe it was the fact that the cheese I had bought itself smelled like vomit. I dragged it under the noses of semi-willing though hesitant friends, and I now consider them even truer friends for subjecting themselves to such cruelty for the satiation my disbelieving olfactory organs.
The cheese—a rich, creamy, AOC French variety called Morbier—stinks like puke. Like absolute vomit. It’s made with the extra Gruyère curd, from both the evening and morning. At night, they cover it with a layer of organic ashes. In the morning, a new batch of curd is spread on top—creating a black line through the middle of the cheese. The whole process is fascinating…really…and the cheese is extremely rich and luxurious but it is so hard to get past the puke–smell.
So here, I leave you. Know that I will try other Morbiers in my life. But for once, I will hesitate, until I find one that doesn’t make me wretch like a 2 AM fratboy on the corner of Oakland and Locust.
Crockpot Sauerkraut
Feb 8th
There are few things more satisfying when eating than contrast. Crunchy, tart, sweet, sour, salty: sauerkraut compliments both itself and the foods it is commonly eaten with. When I lucked upon two heads of cabbage in my Growing Power Market Basket, it certainly wasn’t the first thing I thought to make. But with some research, and the promise of delicious lacto-fermented leaves of cabbagey goodness, I made my first batch this morning. This is definitely an in-process project, so I’ll write about the successes and failures in the weeks to come. Here’s how I started:
Ingredients:
- 2 small/medium heads of lettuce, outer leaves removed, about 2 pounds each. Washed, drained, and halved. I used green, but both red and green is ideal. Oh, and get organic if possible, as pesticides kill the natural bacteria that are necessary for the fermentation process.
- salt; I used Kosher, but pickling is supposedly ideal because of its grain size. Rock salt apparently works too. Also, avoid iodized salt as it will kill bacteria!
Equipment:
- large, clean food-grade container. I used a large ceramic crockpot, though a bucket or crock would work. The sides should be as straight as possible.
- a good (sharp) knife and cutting board
- a plastic bag capable of holding water without leaking. I used a garbage bag, and washed the outside before using it, in case of residues.
- water
- a 50-60°F area; cool, dark, and handsome. Okay, the handsome part is ridiculous. Yet I won’t delete it.
Instructions:
- Cut out the core. I had never tried it before, and was extremely pleased to find that it had a similar peppery heat to mustard greens.
- With the flat face down on the cutting board, cut each half into quarter-inch strips. You can go smaller or larger; smaller should decrease the time it takes for the fermentation to occur, while larger should take longer. Makes sense.
- Layer the cut cabbage into the vessel with salt. For every two pounds of cabbage, use 1 tablespoon of salt. For the record, 1 tablespoon equals 3 teaspoons. Mix everything together with your hands. You did wash them first, right? Press the cabbage down with your hands. Some people even bash it, to bruise the cabbage and get it to start releasing liquid sooner. You don’t have to do this, as the salt will draw the moisture out—but you could try it especially for red cabbage, which is harder. Point is, compact it as much as you can so it is not at the top of the vessel.
- Partially fill the plastic bag with water. The bag is going into the vessel, on top of the cabbage to both:
- press out more water
- keep air and other debris out, which allows fermentation rather than rotting
- to allow the resulting CO2 an escape (through the tiny gaps around the perimeter, between the bag and the vessel).
- Once the bag is in the vessel, add more water till it sufficiently is weighing the cabbage down. What is sufficient? I’d say at least a gallon or three of water, depending on how much cabbage you’re using. I’ve got about 2 gallons in my bag. Tie the bag up!
- Let the pre-kraut sit in a cool area, out of direct sunlight, and away from critters.
- Lift the bag, checking periodically. I’m going to give mine a taste after a week. It may only take a week. Two seems to be the ideal, but it’s all up to your palate. It may even take up to five weeks, so use your senses.
- If something stinks or seems otherwise awry, it probably is. Ditch the kraut and call the doctor if you’ve eaten it and feel…off. As always, I take no responsibility for your kitchen creations, so don’t blame me!
- If everything seems good, eat! Decide if it needs more time, or if it has gone past its prime. When it tastes good to you, you can jar and refrigerate it, or even bag and freeze it for later.
I’ll post further developments as they occur! Peace.
Resources:
Bread
Jan 23rd
So, I finally nailed my bread recipe. For now, just photos. A written recipe won’t do this justice, so I’m going to record some video and post it in the weeks to come. Peace, and yeast.
Oatmeal, and Not Your Grandpa’s Bowl
Oct 6th
I. Love. Oats.
They’re the perfect vehicle for flavors, sweet or savory. And they can make an especially brilliant breakfast if you’d just toss those wimpy packets in the bin. This way is cheaper, tastier, and will get some heat in your belly for those chilly autumn days that are certain to come.
Here’s how I make them for one serving. You’ll need:
- 1¾ cups water
- 1 cup rolled oats. You know, the same kind as the goofy dude with the hat
- salt
- unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons of palm sugar (date palm, not coconut)
- dried sultanas (I’d get them from an ethnic Western Asian store), or golden raisins. They’re essentially the same, just produced slightly differently.
- half stick of cinnamon
- cloves
- Cognac
You’ll also need a small pan and a heatproof spatula or wooden spoon.
- Get your water on high. Once boiling, add the oats and mix. Add the sultanas, cinnamon and a few cloves.
- Once firmed up a bit and not watery, add a small amount of butter. A teaspoon or two should do the trick. We’ll be adding a touch more at the end. Crumble up the sugar with your fingers and stir constantly until the water is absorbed. I like mine sorta gloopy but so the oats hold their shape, still swollen with water.
- Add a splash of cognac. I use about 2 tablespoons. Mix briefly while on heat. Then kill the heat and give it some time to soak up.
- Serve. I keep the cinnamon and cloves in as long as I can but you can remove them if you don’t want to accidentally bite into them. I finish with a modest pad of butter and let it melt over the top, eating a little with each bite. So good.
More ideas:
- You can use currants, regular raisins, or other dried fruits in addition to or instead of sultanas.
- Soaking the dried fruits in alcohol will add a KICK to your morning
You can also be less of an alchy and soak in water, juice (see * below) or a flavored syrup for a few hours. - The date palm sugar provides a sweetness that is extremely mellow. It almost melds with everything else. You can tell it’s sweet but you might not necessarily realize why. Cane sugar is often much less discrete. If you don’t have palm sugar, brown sugar is a good substitute. There’s also muscavato sugar, and a variety of others. Give them a shot, you’ll feel your culinary world open before your eyes.
- leave the butter out and it’s vegan. If you want some richness, there are plenty of substitutes!
- A tiny hint of heavy cream? Gorgeous. Or, I’d imagine this would top a nice, rich ice cream brilliantly. The heat, melting the cream? I can almost taste it now.
- A squeeze of *orange juice would pair nicely with the spices and alcohol, and add acidity to balance the richness of the butter and or cream—if you’re using it.
This is made almost exclusively with pantry stuffs, relatively cheap, fast, delicious, can be made for many people, and is relatively healthy.
Best of all?
You don’t have to take your dentures out to eat it!
Collective Cooking
Oct 3rd
Let’s take a break from nutrition. I like cooking with others because:
- I learn new techniques, glean ideas and adapt them to my own cooking – similarly, others learn from me.
- More hands means faster prep work, which means less time actually cooking.
- More dishes, more variety
- You can learn a lot about people from their cooking, and how they cook with others.
- There’s an incredible intimacy that food affords – to cook well requires all the senses, and to share that with others brings them closer. It almost transcends genetics – if I cook with you, you might as well be my brother.
There are so many other reasons, but I think this sums them up.
Weight Loss Basics Explained
Sep 28th
I covered the nitty gritty of digestion from a biological point of view in yesterday’s post. But say you just want to lose that paunch you’ve developed from too many late-night viewings of Dr. Who (accompanied by salty buttered popcorn). Let’s find out:
Say I’ve got a friend, Rose Tyler. Rose is 5’9”, weighs 180 lbs (slightly overweight), consumes 2000 Calories daily, and exerts herself enough to not gain or lose weight. She wants to lose 10% of her bodyweight for a final (and healthy) weight of 162 lbs. A healthy rate of loss is 1-2 lbs/week, so this could take 9-18 weeks to achieve.
1 pound [2.2kg] of body fat is the same as about 3500 Calories [kcal]. Thus to burn one pound of fat requires an expenditure or deficiency of 3500 Calories. Since we’re shooting for 1-2 lbs weekly, that means:
(3500 Calories/week)*(1 week/7 days) = 500 Calories less (or extra exercise) daily. Double this (1000 Calories) for 2 lbs/week.
Reducing food intake is tricky. Undernourishment is possible—especially when exercising—and also puts you at risk of going into “survival mode”, when your body stores more calories as fat. I’d tell Rose to eat a small snack before and after her work out, which should also last a bit longer to account for the extra calories. Eating before and after is helpful in maintaining muscle mass, and also ensuring enough fuel to burn and recover. Also, eating several smaller meals throughout the day evens out caloric intake and ensures your body always has the energy it needs. There are other ways to do this, but you’ll have to wait for the next post!