Those of you that actually know me, know that I am not a “country girl”. Being born and raised in Arkansas, others typically label you as country…this is not the case. I do not like country music, I do not have a southern (aka hick) accent, I hate being barefoot, I am not crazy about most animals, and I have all my teeth. Saying this, I have noticed that I am intrigued by how things were done “back in the day”. Upon suggestion by my neighbor that brings me farm fresh eggs, I have begun buying farm fresh milk. For some reason, I was expecting to walk into some sort of dairy farm office building and purchase this milk…instead I drove down a dead end dirt road, was nearly attacked by crazed turkeys, and purchased the milk by taking two gallon sized jars out of a refrigerator on someone’s carport and leaving $6.00 in a cup. I love that this area is still nice enough for things like this to be purchased on the honor system.
I haven’t actually drank the milk yet because I am a weenie (the kind of person with psychological barriers that prevent me from drinking store bought milk ON the due date), but Greg and the kids really like it. I made butter last night which turned out really well, and am currently attempting to make cream cheese. So far, I have heated 2 quarts of milk to lukewarm (around 95 degrees F), poured this into a large bowl, added 1/4 cup buttermilk (from my butter making last night), and covered with a kitchen towel. (NOTE: If you are going to attempt this, place skewers or something over the bowl before draping the towel to prevent it from sinking into the liquid.) This will sit on my counter for about 24 hours before the next step…will post update tomorrow.