Making Parmesan cheese

A few days ago, I mentioned in passing that I made my first batch of Parmesan cheese over Christmas. A reader asked for more details. I don't have a lot of photos to accompany the process, in part because so many steps are similar to making cheddar (review this post to get an idea).

When I first got into cheesemaking many years ago, I had extremely spotty success because I was trying to follow advice on the internet. Then I purchased a book that proved to be a game-changer: Home Cheesemaking by Ricki Carroll (full disclosure: this is an Amazon affiliates link). If anyone is serious about making cheese, this is THE reference book to get, with extremely easy-to-follow directions as well as a wealth of information on cultures, starters, rennet, techniques, etc. The New England Cheesemaking Supply Company (founded by the author of the book) is also the place to go for cultures, cheese molds, rennet, etc.

In years past, I've made lots of cheddar, mozzarella, and cream cheese, which we use all the time. For whatever reason, however, I never delved into either Parmesan or Swiss cheeses (two of our favorites). I haven't tried Swiss yet (I need to obtain a special bacterial culture), but that will be my next conquest.

Before getting started on Parmesan, I needed to culture some thermophilic culture. I did this by heating about a gallon and a half of skim milk in a double boiler arrangement (critical!) to 180F, then letting it cool to 110F. I added the culture, then needed to keep the milk at 110F for six to eight hours, until the milk achieves a thick yogurt-like consistency.

To maintain the temperature for this long, I kept the pots on the stove burner, covered with layers of towels, and checked the temperature frequently. If the culture needed a bit of heat, I removed the towels and turned on the burner for a minute or two, then turned off the heat and covered the pots with the towels again.

The water jacket provided by nesting two pots together as a double boiler makes all the difference in being able to control and maintain temperature. This is just as important while cultivating the starter culture as it is for making cheese.

After the culture was ripe, I used a half-cup (four-ounce) measuring cup...

...to scoop it into muffin tins, which I then froze.

Four ounces of culture is the standard amount to add to a two-gallon batch of cheese, so it's handy to have it frozen in these increments.

For making Parmesan cheese, here are the necessary supplies and equipment:

• Two large pots, nested to make a double boiler

• 2 gallons of low-fat milk (I goofed the first batch by using regular-fat milk)

• 4 ounces of thermophilic starter

• 1/2-teaspoon liquid animal rennet diluted in 1/4-cup cool unchlorinated water

• A cheese press and 2-pound cheese mold

• 2 lbs. cheese salt + 1 gallon water for a brine

Here are the directions:

• Heat milk to 90F. Add thermophilic starter and mix well. Cover and let ripen for 30 minutes.

• Making sure the milk is still at 90F, add the rennet and mix well. Cover and let set for 30 minutes.

• Cut the curds into 1/4-inch cubes.

• Heat the curds to 100F, raising the temperature two degrees ever five minutes. Stir often.

• Raise the temperature of the curds three degrees every five minutes until the temperature reaches 124F. Stir often. The curds should be very small and squeak when chewed. Allow the curds to set for five minutes.

• Pour off the whey (I use a mesh bag so as not to lose any of the curds). In the photo below, Don is holding the mesh bag around a wide-mouth funnel while I scoop out the curds and whey from the large pot.

• Line a two-pound cheese mold with a thin cloth (cheesecloth or, in my case, a piece of clean muslin). Pack the curds into the mold and press at 5 lbs. of pressure for 15 minutes.

• Turn the cheese, then press at 10 lbs. of pressure for 30 minutes.

• Turn the cheese, then press at 15 lbs. of pressure for 2 hours.

• Turn the cheese, then press at 20 lbs. of pressure for 12 hours.

• In a non-corrosive container (I use a plastic bucket), mix 2 lbs. cheese salt or non-iodized salt into 1 gallon of water to make a brine. Soak the cheese in the brine for 24 hrs. at room temperature. In the photo below, since the cheese wanted to float...

...we anchored it down with a cup filled with coins. Weird solution, but it worked.

• Remove the cheese from the brine and pat dry. (Reserve the brine for future uses.) Age the cheese at 55F and 85 percent humidity for at least 10 months. Turn the cheese over daily for the first several weeks, then weekly thereafter. Remove any mold with a cloth dampened with vinegar.

• After the cheese has aged for two months, rub the surface with olive oil to keep the rind and cheese from drying out.

Here are the two batches of Parmesan I've made so far. The larger one came from the full-fat milk I (mistakenly) used; the smaller one came from low-fat milk.

This, so far, is my experience making Parmesan. The next step is ageing, so it will be interesting to see what kind of cheese these two types of milk produce.

First of spring or last of winter?

It's been cold here. Not nearly as bitter as the weather in the northeast, but we've had lows in the teens and high in the low 30s for the last couple of days. The ground is frozen hard, but we have no snow. (It's typical around here not to get snow until January.)

Yesterday afternoon, I finished cleaning the barn and was coming back into the house when I heard an unexpected sound: A robin's call. I looked up and saw the culprit in one of our yard trees under a gibbous moon.

Robins in winter are rare, but not unheard of. It was puffed up against the cold, and its red breast caught the glow of the afternoon sun.

Was this the last robin of winter or the first robin of spring?

No idea. Maybe this bird knows something we don't.

How was your Christmas?

Last Christmas, if you recall, we managed to celebrate the day by smashing up our car after hitting an invisible patch of black ice.

This Christmas, thankfully, things were a lot more peaceful and less exciting.

We started by wrapping our gifts to each other. A few years ago, I abandoned wrapping paper altogether and embraced the Japanese practice of furoshiki, or wrapping gifts in colorful fabric. Honestly, this was one of those "Where have you been all my life?" moments. Fabric wrap is infinitely reusable and creates no waste.

I keep a bag of festive fabric bits (some large, some small) in our Christmas tote, and we use them for wrapping gifts.

On Christmas Eve, we attended our church's evening "Lessons and Carols" service and sang our hearts out.

The next morning was the Christmas Day service. I took this photo from the choir loft before anyone had arrived.

We opened presents, spent the day lounging around, and watched George C. Scott's "A Christmas Carol" in the evening.

(Also, I made my first batch of Parmesan cheese, which now has to age for ten months, so I have no idea how it turned out.)

How was your Christmas?

The orphan party

For the last few years, since she's been at her European duty station, Younger Daughter has been throwing what she calls "Orphan Parties" at Christmas.

These are Christmas Eve gatherings of as many service people as want to celebrate together, since so many are far away from their families. She has a spacious apartment, and the party starts on Christmas Eve evening and lasts past midnight. She is arranging car pools and designated drivers, and is also offering floor and couch space for those who just want to crash overnight rather than navigate their way home (especially helpful for those who overindulge).

Although adult beverages will be available (brought by guests, since she doesn't supply either food or alcohol), the entire party is wholesome and family-friendly. This year she is expecting 20 adults and six kids, including three babies ranging in age from seven months to eighteen months. She has gifts for each party attendee, including stockings for the older children. (She decided on just stuffed animals for the babies.)

When we last spoke a couple days ago, she said she was working on games and prizes. 

• People are encouraged to wear (modest) pajamas, so she'll have a prize for the "best dressed" nightwear.

• She plans a "hide the pickle" game, in which a pickle-shaped ornament is hidden somewhere in the apartment. The extra rule is the finder must visibly hold the pickle at all times, and others can steal it if they want.

Gifts and prizes are equally fun or goofy. She has four anonymous gifts, wrapped up, but they can only be given if the gift is identified through a series of clues.

• One of the prizes is a coupon for a free painting (she's very artistic, and apparently people hound her for artwork).

• Another prize is a very large bottle of hot sauce shaped like the Grinch’s head.

• Because (as she puts it) so many party attendees are immature, one of the prizes is a Nerf gun, which is apparently very popular among sailors.

• For caffeine addicts, she found a vintage mocha coffee set at a thrift store. She said it was a little pricey, but very handsome.

I love the idea of an Orphan Party! It's tough on military personnel to be so far away from loved ones, but she is helping forge both ties and memories by offering a place to safely celebrate.

America's hope

Last night, Don and I were invited to attend the Christmas pageant of some local Mennonite schoolchildren singing carols and reciting some religious poetry. The event was held in the newish barn of a member of the nearby Mennonite church, a man whom Don knows through their mutual involvement in a professional project. The barn is multipurpose and is often used for community gatherings.

Aside from a few people, Don and I didn't know a soul. And yet – everyone went out of his (or in my case, her) way to introduce him/herself and welcome us to the event. It was absolutely lovely to feel so embraced by this group of strangers.

There were children everywhere, ranging from infants in arms to teens. Kids dashed around engaging in spontaneous games of ring-around-the-rosey and hide-and-seek. Adults ranged from young parents to elderly grandparents and great-grandparents. I'm guessing there were maybe 100 people in attendance.

The pageant opened with a prayer, and then a couple of community carols in which everyone in the audience belted out holiday favorites (we all had hymnbooks on our chairs). Then the school children, ranging in age from about five through fourteen, stepped up and sang their hearts out. And here's the thing – these kids had practiced. They knew every word and line, and they sang it acapella with impressive harmony. They recited some poetry that even the five-year-old knew flawlessly. It was terrific.

Then a group of nine adults took the stage, and they also sang a number of pieces acapella, and they were (in my opinion) polished enough to be professionally recorded. Just beautiful.

After this, the whole audience was invited to pick some favorite Christmas hymns to sing, after which the program closed with a prayer. Everyone mingled to socialize, then lined up for a potluck meal.

I came away deeply impressed by the whole thing. In some ways, it was a snapshot of America's hope. Here was a group of God-fearing, hard-working, community-minded, family-oriented people, young and old, children and elderly, gathering to celebrate Christmas ... and welcoming strangers into their midst.

As I said, Don has been working with this one man on a community project, and he's come to appreciate the Mennonite church and its members for their enthusiastic community involvement and genuinely pious lifestyle.

For the last several years, in our last location and now here in our current home, we've noticed a large influx of Mennonites from other parts of the country. I, for one, welcome them with open arms. We simply couldn't ask for better neighbors.

Gathering Christmas boughs

Last week, Older Daughter wanted to collect some Christmas boughs for decorating the house. Usually she and I drive into the mountains with Darcy to do this, and this time we decided to move fast since we were trying to beat a spike of rain moving in.

We haven't had any snow yet this winter (which is typical; generally we get a massive whomp of the white stuff after New Year's), but as we climbed in elevation there was a modest and festive amount on the ground.

Darcy, needless to say, was thrilled by the excursion, which supplanted his usual morning walk. As I told Older Daughter, I was giving him at most thirty seconds before that excitement translated into taking a dump once he was released from the car.

As it turns out, it was closer to forty seconds...

...and then he unleashed not one, but two enormous loads. Good thing I brought bags.

After that he felt much better and happily romped along the road.

While Older Daughter carefully selected cedar branches (taking no more than one per tree)...

...I observed snowberries, something we had everywhere in our last location but don't have near our current home.

Here's Older Daughter's car, parked among the trees.

Cedar branches are beautiful, perfect for draping.

Because the road we were on is a maintained logging road winding deep into the mountains, much of it had a steep dropoff on one side.

We had to select branches that overhung the road.

We filled a tub with branches and came home, ready to decorate the house.

I like being so close to the mountains that we can take a short jaunt into the higher elevations. So, apparently, does Mr. Darcy.

Another seating area

There is a YouTube real estate enthusiast named Enes Yilmazer who makes videos (filmed by his son) in which he tours mansions, yachts, and other high-end facilities of the Rich and Famous. Many of the properties he films are on the market, and he works with the realtors representing the properties to showcase the amenities. We're talking homes worth tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars.

Once in a while I'll watch one of his videos to catch a glimpse of how the upper crust lives. The vast majority of the time, Mr. Yilmazer is showcasing some sleek and modern monstrosity that doesn't appeal to me at all. Still, it's interesting brain candy to view during down time.

A random moment from one such video (I can't remember which one) stuck in my head. In the clip, Mr. Yilmazer walked from one wing of a house to another, and he passed by a large area that held an expensive sectional couch but was otherwise empty. He waved casually toward the couch and said, "And another seating area..." in passing as he made his way toward the other wing.

It was the way he said "And another seating area..." that stuck in my head, because I remember thinking, "Seating area for whom?" The house he was showcasing was so massive, and it already had so many other "seating areas," that I'm certain no one would ever frequent this remote and forgotten sectional couch at all. It just needed some sort of furniture to fill an otherwise vacant space.

And here's the thing: The room/corridor through which Mr. Yilmazer was passing easily surpassed in size the footprint of our own home.

I thought about this recently because our house is currently in chaos, cluttered with the detritus that comes from living, working, and engaging in projects within the confines of 1,000 square feet.

In the living room, there was a pile of towels on the coffee table, burying a pot of heated milk to make cheese culture.

In the library, I was drying flannel sheets on racks (I have to dry everything indoors during the winter, of course).

Next to the clothes-drying racks are crates of ripening spaghetti squash. The ones in the top-most crate will be going to church with us to pass out to interested congregants (hence the sign, which reads "Spaghetti squash – help yourself).

As usual, the kitchen was the most active room of all. Older Daughter was engaged in a large production run of tankards, and in winter many steps involving glue must be done indoors.

On the stove, she was cooking a meal.

In one corner, we had put aside a few gallons of drinking water in preparation for the anticipated power outages from last week's wind storm.

In another corner, washed and cleaned milking buckets, milk containers, and a fresh block of cheddar cheese air drying before I wax it.

Anyway, you get the idea. The house was a mess.

But here's the thing: It's a mess because we use it. We live here. We work here. Once in a while, we even entertain here (at which point, of course, we clean it up). We have no interest in, or space for, a distant unused "seating area."

We've known people with large homes. Some friends who were in the potluck rotation at our last place had a massive and gorgeous home that easily held dozens of people, during which time their seating areas were in constant use.

For those whose focus is entertaining (and not homesteading, like us), there seems to be a breaking point in home size. Up to a point, a large home's square footage is an advantage, with space enough for gracious hosting. Beyond that point, however, you get lost and distant seating areas forever unused, but which must still be furnished, cleaned, and heated.

Our home is small and sometimes chaotic, but at least I can honestly say we use every square inch of it.

Five years ago today

Five years ago today, we stumbled into our new home, exhausted beyond belief. (For a review of that chaotic period of moving from our old place, see here, here, and here.) Honestly, we felt that move took a couple years off our lives. It's one of the reasons we've concluded we're never moving again, barring unforeseen circumstances.

We (mostly Don) have made endless improvements during the last five years. He graveled the driveway. He built a pantry and built a library. He installed the wood cookstove. In the barn, he's built two shops (the one Older Daughter uses for the woodcraft business, plus his "man cave"); built two storage lofts above those shops; built a storage room; and built a feed box for the cows. He addressed some enormous plumbing woes in the house (at which time he also built an outdoor shower) and we had a 500-gallon propane tank installed. He did some much-needed deck repair work. We had a massive yard sale to offload things we no longer needed. We fenced in a corral for the animals, fenced the pasture, and (obviously) got cows. Don partitioned the house, including a separate entrance and porch, for Older Daughter's quarters when she took over the woodcraft business. We fenced a yard for Darcy, began the installation of a comprehensive garden, and planted blueberries and peaches. He built a woodshed and installed a roof-runoff system for rainwater collection.

And this doesn't count a plethora of smaller projects, most of them accomplished by Don: Building gates, repairing a clothes-drying rack, installing fairy lights on the porch, improving a jar washer, making a shelf for holding cook books, random graveling projects, trimming an overgrown grove of trees, things like that.

This past year we (mostly Don) accomplished yet more projects. He built a deck storage room, as well as all the shelves, movable shelving units, and doors it required. We continued to build up the garden infrastructure, including the critical component of super-dooper high deer fencing.

Don built a cheese press. He started building an awning for the barn. He built a calf pen and milking stall.

We subdivided the main pasture. We fenced the sacrifice pasture.

This doesn't count for endless smaller projects Don has accomplished in the last year: Building and insulating a well house, building a door for the well house, installing a sturdy floor in a shed we hope to someday turn into a guest house, building a box for the tractor to transport stuff, building a haybale-moving platform, building a large firepit, and rocking in the corral.

And, of course, there's our writing: Dozens of articles, several inspirational romances, and our self-published indy romance.

So yeah, we've accomplished a lot in five years. No complaints.