This Easter saw the resurrection of my cheesemaking activity in New Zealand. Making a slow food when your time poor is complicated, a rare long weekend was the miracle I had prayed for. I have a friend in Cheesus.
A faithful disciple of Elizabeth Harris of Childwickbury Goats – my muse – it was always gonna be a Childwickbury-esque offering, but raw.
If you live in the burbs like I do, you need some good mates and an ear to the grass to help find your raw material. I met some good folk and beautiful dairy goats from the Auckland Dairy Goat Club at the Kumeu A&P show earlier in the year, who kindly agreed to supply me with milk. Now all I needed was to find the time…
Good Friday, good day to make cheese. I hooned out to the farm with Metallica blaring out the stereo to collect milk from that mornings milking, honesty box system in place. I could see the goats grazing down the back of the property, they must have heard the thumping metal guitar coming from my car.
Decanted milk into slow cooker, flicked it on low and sanitised my toys in prep etc… and had a beer. Decided to ladle into different hoops to see which was better. I had to be set and ladled by the afternoon, I had some serious fishing off the rocks to perform (an Easter miracle that did not happen on this occasion, but I did catch lot’s of seaweed).
With some planning, I learnt I can have my cheese and make it too. It’s interesting how environment dictates so much of your make. Alot of work for a small volume of cheese, is it worth it? Guess that depends on what worth means eh.