Читать книгу Strudel, Noodles and Dumplings: The New Taste of German Cooking - Anja Dunk - Страница 20

Herr Winter’s farm was positioned at the top of a gently sloping hill, just up from my grandparents’ house, and it was where we collected the milk from each day. It was a topsy-turvy kind of place, most un-German, I used to think. The gate, which must have looked splendid once, was now rather sad; it felt forgotten, and every time I pushed it open some of the peeling green paint would stick to the palms of my hands.

Inside, hidden from view behind thick hedges, felt like another world – the smooth, clean tarmac of the pavement gave way to ancient cobblestones that were so hard to walk on they made you look drunk. We would cross the yard, heading towards the milk pails in fits of giggles, Omi and I, causing the doves to flap away into their dovecotes, cooing madly.

We had two enamel pails, one black, one white, and each day we would swap the full one for the empty one, with the lid turned upside down, where a Deutschmark would be stored as payment. At home we would each drink a glass of this fresh milk, sweet, creamy and still warm, straight from the churn before the rest was chilled or made into other things, indulgent and pure – a simple pleasure.

I get my love of dairy from Omi – she didn’t eat bread with butter, she ate butter with bread. If something on the stove lacked flavour she added a large knob of butter – ‘Always makes it taste better,’ she would chant as she whisked it into sauces and soups, and I find gravy especially benefits from the addition of butter – I can still hear her now beside me when I cook, gently nudging my arm towards the butter dish.

SOUR MILK SOUP

My great-grandmother believed sour milk was the secret to a long, healthy life, and drank a glassful every day. Beyond the drinking glass, though, sour milk is a great example of how resourceful the German kitchen is – where we might deem it an ingredient fit for the bin, they see its beauty.

I tend not to drink sour milk straight up, but when the milk curdles in my coffee I either make a fresh curd cheese with the rest of it or we have a sour milk soup the very same day. There is something most satisfying about turning a misfortune into a joy, and this soup is exactly that – the epitome of optimism.

Traditionally, a sour milk soup is served with a grating of black bread or dark rye, but if this sort of bread isn’t hanging around your kitchen, substitute crushed digestive biscuits as below.

SERVES 4

6 digestive biscuits, crushed to a fine powder (or 4 slices of stale rye bread, grated)

500ml sour raw (unpasteurised) milk *

25g vanilla sugar (or more, to suit your taste)

¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

Divide the digestive crumbs between four bowls. Whisk the sour milk, sugar and cinnamon together for a few minutes until the sugar has dissolved.

Divide the milk mixture between the four bowls and allow to stand for a few minutes before eating, so that the digestives swell and soak up some of the milk.

OTHER FLAVOURS:

This is also delicious with some finely grated orange or lemon zest added to the milk when you whisk in the sugar.

A knife tip of crushed cardamom seeds can be used instead of the cinnamon.

OTHER USES FOR SOUR RAW MILK:

Sour raw milk can also be used in place of buttermilk in things like pancakes and waffles, or in baked goods such as scones and soda bread. Sour milk is also great to marinate meat in. It is best to use it the day it turns sour.

* If you are worried about using raw milk, this soup can also be made with 300ml of buttermilk and 200ml of pasteurised milk, whisked together. Milk is pasteurised to kill off any harmful bacteria and give it a longer shelf life, but through the process of pasteurisation many of the good enzymes and bacteria that are beneficial to a healthy gut and a strong immune system are also destroyed. The flavour of the milk changes considerably too. Raw milk is most delicious and is totally different to what is available on the supermarket shelves, but it can only be sold by farms directly to consumers, so it is solely available at selected farms or farmers’ markets, not from regular shops. I have noted where raw milk can be bought in the list of suppliers here.

THE SIMPLEST YOGURT

THE SIMPLEST YOGURT

The beauty of yogurt is that each new batch is made with the last spoonful from the old pot. I love the cycle of renewal it goes through – the idea that you are keeping something going means you get to know it and understand its ways, and the ingredient becomes like an old friend in the kitchen, always there, steady and reliable.

Yogurt is so cheap and easy to buy that you could argue: why bother making your own? Well, it’s so easy to make (easier than going to the shops for many of us who don’t have them on the doorstep) and it means you can choose to make it exactly how you like it: more creamy perhaps, runny, thick or very set – most shop-bought yogurt contains added emulsifiers, which change the texture of the yogurt, making it more creamy in consistency overall. Really it’s a matter of personal preference, but I find yogurt with added emulsifiers lacking in character.

You don’t need any special equipment to make yogurt, but a yogurt-maker is cheap to buy and I strongly advise getting one if it is something you plan to do regularly. Failing that, an airing cupboard is the perfect spot for yogurt. Yogurt also sets well in jars, wrapped in a tea towel and perched on top of the radiator or on a tray near the boiler, and if you are lucky enough to have an Aga, you can just rest the tea-towel-insulated jars at the back overnight and in the morning your yogurt will be ready. If you live in a warmer climate, you can simply set the yogurt outside in a shady spot – while living in New England I did this during the summer months, and it worked a treat.

MAKES ABOUT 750ML

You will need 6 small, lidded jars

750ml whole milk (raw or pasteurised)

2 heaped tablespoons live bio-yogurt

Heat the milk in a large saucepan until small bubbles start to form on the surface. This takes about 5 minutes at most, so don’t walk away from the pan – a watchful eye is important, as it can boil over very easily. Once the bubbles start to rise up the sides of the pan, turn the heat off and set the pan aside to cool to a lukewarm temperature. Whisk in the yogurt until there are no lumps. Pour the milk into small, sterilised jars (I use Weck jars, but any old jam jars will do as long as they have lids), then seal the jars and let them sit undisturbed in a warm place, such as a yogurt-maker or any of the spots suggested above, for 8–10 hours, until the yogurt is set.

Refrigerate until needed.

Note: If you like your yogurt more creamy, switch 200ml of the whole milk for single cream.