About the goats

It probably started with a conversation with Carolyn about goats and their creepy eyes, which we were possibly willing to put up with only out of our sheer love for goat cheese. Or maybe it was going to Jenny’s house in Bayfield and seeing her goat-cheese feta, and how healthy and happy her kids looked, because, she said, they drink fresh goat milk every day. In the order of time it is unclear which came first, but with Carolyn we’ve had plans for many years to start a little farm, raise sheep for the milk and and the fur which we would sometimes knit, sometimes use to insulate various outbuildings, and live in complete eco-terrorist harmony with nature (leaving Rich his motorcycle shop in the garage). Then, there was the Fête du village and at our table under the influence of a bottomless bottle of rosé, with our neighbors from the south we started talking about where to find good food around here – and the topic of goats came up. And Annick told me about a goat farmer over the hill by the lake, and plans were made to start a goat cheese cooperative, and Dominique is already lined up for the 5am milking, Annick is in charge of distribution, Cathia will sell at markets, and i think i promised to be in charge of making the cheese.

So in the next week, after recuperating from the excess of rosé, with Gabriel we went up and found the goat farm. And brought some bottles, and got some warm milk, and the wife of the farmer lent us some cheese forms, gave us some tips, and we rode home and tried making cheese. It’s very easy to do, but very difficult to do well. You take the milk, still warm from the goat, mix in a drop of présure per liter, let it sit 24 hours, then put the curds into the cheese forms, and let them sit, and then take them out and salt them and turn them and let them sit some more. It’s much easier than going to the supermarket to buy cheese, and the perfect occupation for lazy people like myself who like hands-off gourmandise.

And the first batch was almost a Selles-sur-Cher, really, made with apple cider vinegar instead of présure, because it hadn’t arrived at the pharmacie yet. The second and third batches were a stiff sort of saltless feta, like really hard tofu that smelled like goats, and it was ok on salad and i managed to sneak it into quesadillas without much protest on Gabriel’s behalf: the mistake was too much présure. Two months later, we’re getting the hang of it, and our little cheeses mature in the cool stone walls of the real house, in a little garde-manger that we found at the store that sells everything, Marchand in Montreuil sur Ille (where they said they’d sell our cheese, if it was any good).

We’ll take some pictures of the goats soon, they’re really lovely animals and are always smiling.

We are not goat owners, yet, though.