Homemade Ricotta

The course I was teaching ended last week, and my final marks have been submitted. Let summer begin--all three weeks that are left. Already, nights are chilly and a few orange-tinged maples have appeared. Time is short, using it well my challenge.

First, sleep replacement therapy is in order. Then, getting the kids ready for back-to-school, the fifth season of the year. Our most recent high school graduate must be transported far, far away to university in Halifax. We're making a family holiday of it, exploring the Atlantic provinces and a bit of Quebec en route. I've been throwing provincial tourism guides and maps at the kids, trying to get them to pick sightseeing stops and help plan a route, but no luck so far. They're resisting my stealth geography lessons. Unless we make a few reservations soon, we'll be sleeping, all six of us, in the van. Which is more togetherness than anyone can take.

Meanwhile, since Peak Produce (nothing like Peak Oil) coincides with my freer schedule, it's time to re-energize the Unprocessed Project. We've maintained some good habits (tomato sauce, granola and most baked goods made at home from scratch, weekly) and abandoned others (bagels! They take forever to make and the results vary wildly). With a few batches of jam successfully "put up", my next trick will be to preserve pesto, salsa, tomatoes, plums and peaches. I've purchased Bernardin jars and have relied, so far, on recipes from their website.

Canning still feels like a time-warp to me--a routine homemaking chore for my grandmother, whom I watched preserve fruits and vegetables many times--and something I never wanted to do myself: so boring. I imagine the folks at Bernardin sadly charting the canning supply sales slump over the years, watching their clientele die off, and then suddenly . . . locavore/hipster revival. The marketing department, all two of them, scratch their heads: didn't see THAT coming. I wonder how long it will last. Canning is satisfying, but a hell of a lot of work.  

So, reboot. As I type, bread dough is rising, chocolate-chip granola bars are cooling, and fresh ricotta is resting in the fridge, soon to be used in baked ziti. (Incidentally, both the bread and the granola bar recipes come from author Carrie Snyder's blog. I've made a lot of different breads, and this one is unfailing. The granola bars mix up quickly. They don't last long around here.)

ricotta draining and, at left, the whey

DIY ricotta has been a pleasant discovery in the Unprocessed process. It's simple to make fresh, delicious ricotta at home with just a few steps. I found recipes online and ended up using this one from Epicurious but they all call for varying proportions of whole milk, heavy cream, salt and an acid such as lemon juice or vinegar. Simply boil the milk, cream and salt; add lemon juice and lower heat; stir until the mixture curdles (a few minutes); and drain in a colander lined with cheesecloth. That's how ricotta happens.

The first time I made this, the kids were mystified and disgusted by the glop of slop draining in white mesh, which I didn't realize they had never seen before. What IS this, they said, fingering the gauzy fabric. Didn't I feel like a pioneer, explaining cheesecloth to them. Gather around, my children, and imbibe a little Home Ec history with your wholesome unprocessed food. Cheesecloth: you can still get it in the grocery store, so someone must be using it for something.

The recipe says to discard the tangy whey, but it has nutritional value, so why waste it? I found online articles detailing several uses for whey, including in breadmaking. Today I substituted whey for half the water in my bread-in-progress. Was that a wise decision? We'll see.

boiling milk, cream and salt

curds form

okay, eww--make ricotta when there are no witnesses around

finished ricotta mixed with herbs--a filling for stuffed shells or lasagna