Make the Bread, Buy the Butter - Jennifer Reese [94]
GOAT MILK
Make it or buy it? Goats are wonderful, but if it’s just their milk you’re after, buy it.
Hassle: Like having a dog you don’t have to walk
Cost: Peppermint cost $350; Natalie cost $100; I paid $200 for the hutch and $100 to rent the truck to transport it to our yard. I bought the goats vaccines and a currycomb and a nail clipper, and $300 of hay and grain. I paid the vet $250 when Natalie got sick. Each goat incurred a $50 stud fee. And then there was all the mileage. We will ignore the cost of the espaliered pear tree and my decimated orchard. So far I estimate that we have spent $1,600 on our goats and acquired not a drop of milk. I don’t see how this is ever going to pencil out. But we love our goats the way people love their Labradoodles and if they one day give us some milk? Well, that will be nice.
FRESH CHÈVRE
This cheese is fluffy and feathery, all the flavors bright and clean and new. It’s also easy and cheap.
Make it or buy it? Make it.
Hassle: Easy
Cost comparison: Homemade, using store-bought goat’s milk: $8.00 to $9.00 per pound. Laura Chenel goat cheese: $14.00.
1 gallon goat’s milk (preferably not ultrapasteurized)
¼ teaspoon mesophilic culture
1 drop liquid rennet
Kosher salt
1. In a very clean, large pot, heat the milk to 77 degrees F, just to take the chill off.
2. Sprinkle the culture over the top of the milk. Using a slotted spoon, with an upand-down motion, stir the milk to draw the cultures down into the liquid.
3. Add the rennet. Again, stir the milk with an up-and-down motion.
4. Cover the pot and leave at room temperature to rest undisturbed for 24 hours.
5. Set a colander or sieve lined with cheesecloth over a large bowl. Pour the cheese into it. Let drain for 8 hours at room temperature. Stir in salt to taste. Store in a bowl in the refrigerator, tightly covered. It will keep for 10 days.
Makes 2 pounds, 1 ounce
CHAPTER 15
TURKEY
A few weeks before Thanksgiving, I began pondering where to buy a turkey. A local farm known for its humane practices and environmental sensitivity had been advertising heritage turkeys—old-fashioned breeds that, unlike factory-farmed birds, can fly and mate unassisted. According to the farm’s website: “Their flavor is spectacular, the meat succulent and rich—they are, without a doubt, the best-tasting turkeys you’ll ever eat.” I wanted in! The price was $6.89 per pound and I needed a fifteen-pounder. I did the math: that’s a $103.35 bird.
This gives a person pause. Meanwhile, Lucky had been advertising a free turkey with just $99.99 in purchases. In other words, a perfectly edible bird plus yams, marshmallows, cranberry sauce, brussels sprouts, and potatoes, with enough left over for wine and after-dinner mints, for less than the price of a single heritage turkey. Of course, Lucky’s turkeys were flightless Frankenbirds who had endured sorry lives sucking up antibiotics in sordid factory farms. Still, it was tempting.
But I was trying to be a better person. Since I now followed the farm section of Craigslist the way other crazy ladies follow QVC, I noticed within minutes when an ad for a live tom turkey popped up one afternoon. Someone was selling a bird for ten dollars to “a good home or whatever.” Or whatever. You would think I would have learned my lesson with Arlene, but I promptly called to reserve this turkey who had spent his happy days waddling around with goats and chickens on a small farm. We’d house the turkey in our yard for a few weeks, treat him royally, then slaughter him. My daughter rolled her eyes, my husband rolled his eyes, but Owen was psyched. Over the next few days, he and I read about turkeys, looked