Here it is, folks–the yogurt I made on Sunday. I was going to post this yesterday but my camera batteries died right as I took the photo, so it had to wait until I good steal them from a remote when Mr. Pea wasn’t looking. After the yogurt finished incubating on Sunday I stuck it in the fridge overnight and ate a spoonful the next morning. I was the guinea pig, not just in terms of flavor, but also in terms of “if leaving milk warm for 8 hours makes someone ill, let’s find out.” All was fine. The next day I ate a bowlful of yogurt and granola, like this one, and we watched carefully. And I was fine! Hey, if people have been making this in desert climates since ancient times and not getting ill (er, maybe they did on occasion), leaving it in a cooler and popping it in the fridge couldn’t be so bad.
I really like this yogurt. Yep, it’s plain, but it’s got less tang than, say, Dannon’s plain has, and it really didn’t turn out watery at all. It’s got a nice, smooth, buttery aftertaste which at first put me off but which I’ve come to really like. It resembles it’s mother culture, which was a container of Stonyfield farm nonfat plain. I haven’t strained any yet to see what yogurt cheese tastes like, but it’s on my agenda.
Mr. Pea, on the other hand, is less enamored with my little science project. He isn’t too keen on plain yogurt and while I swore this was better than typical plains, he is very ‘meh’ on the whole thing. I might stir in a few tablespoons of last summer’s strawberry jam into a jar (we have 4 pint jars of yogurt in the fridge from a half gallon of milk) and see if that helps. They should last at least 2 if not 3 weeks in there, so even if he continues to dislike it, I can probably eat most of it myself. We’re down to 3 jars already, anyway.
If any of you bravely make your own yogurt, messing around with bacteria in your kitchen, let me know how it goes. One of my colleagues at school yesterday said I was a throwback to the 70s. Hey, if I can be an ardent feminist and make most of my food from scratch, I think that’s a label with which I can live.