Goat Cheese Chocolate Cake

Even just a few dairy goats will generate a ridiculous amount of chèvre. These days I am making anywhere from 10 - 15 oz of cheese per day with just two milkers. As such, I have been coming up with some creative uses for goat cheese. For example, I now make the best and, at current chèvre prices of $1.00/oz, incredibly expensive mac and cheese.

However, this new recipe "takes the cake". After a cursory internet search revealed no such other recipes on the entire Internet (of the first six google hits) I thought I would put it down here for posterity.

So, if you want to make a great tasting chocolate cake and have some goat cheese sitting around (or are willing to spend $10+ for a cake) read on...

Goat Cheese Chocolate Cake:

Ingredients

• 10 - 12 oz of fresh creamy chèvre 
• 1/2 cup goats milk, divided
• 3 egg yolks
• 6 oz of chocolate chips (more if you like more chocolatey goodness)
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 cups flour

1. Heat 1/4 cup of milk and chocolate chips in a double boiler until melted and smooth.
2. In the mean time, whisk egg yolks, salt, and sugar in a bowl until the eggs are a light yellow and fluffy (about 2 - 3 minutes)
3. Pour a little of the hot cream mixture into the eggs to temper, then return the whole thing to the double boiler. Whisk until thick, roughly 15 minutes. Do not allow to boil. Cool the chocolate-egg mixture in the fridge until firm (about an hour or so).
4. When it is cool, whip the eggs and chocolate mixture with the goat cheese until smooth. Add the vanilla and stir to combine.
5. Combine the flour and baking soda and add it to the cheese mixture a little at a time. If it gets too thick, alternate with some additional milk until all the flour is combined. You should get a cake batter consistency that is a little on the stiff side.
6. Pour into a buttered pan and bake at 350 until an inserted toothpick comes out smooth (depends on the pan, but my bread pan took about 30 minutes).

All that's left of this tasty goodness!

You can make up a frosting (with goat cheese, of course) but I just eat it plain.

Next stop, goat cheese chocolate chip cookies!

Red Air Data

Dear Rep. Brad Dee:

Regarding your recent column:

http://www.standard.net/stories/2013/02/15/real-solutions-air-quality

As a concerned resident, I am doing everything I can to reduce emissions on red air days. We’ve lowered our thermostat and don’t burn wood on red air days. We drive a low emission vehicle, carpool, bike, or take mass transit, and pool all our trips. 

But, with apologies to you and Governor Herbert, I must take issue with some of the numbers being used to describe the sources of pollution that affect us all during the winter inversions. The Utah DAQ - along with the Governor and your recent column - report that vehicle emissions represent 57% of the inversion pollution, with industry accounting for only 11%. Drive less, you tell us, and do your part.

However, automobiles are not the largest source of PM 2.5 emissions along the Wasatch Front. According to the DAQ 2012 Annual Report, on-road emissions account for only 13% of PM 2.5 sources (see figure on page 22 of the report, available at the DAQ web site). Industry point sources account for 24%, and other area sources account for 49% of PM 2.5 emissions. Remember, the red air action alerts are measured by the amount of PM 2.5 in the air. PM 2.5 also contributes the most to the health risks on red air days.

To suggest that industry only contributes 11% to the pollution problem during inversions is disingenuous at best. Kennecott’s operation alone accounts for over 66% of PM 2.5 emissions in Salt Lake County. 

We may be at the mercy of our geography, but nobody is forcing us to operate refineries and open pit mines on red air days. If you are going to use data to ban wood burning and ask us to drive less, please use data to - at the very least - ask industries to not operate these point sources on red air days. 

A mea culpa

about science and press releases....published in our 'other' blog:

http://writescience.wordpress.com/2011/12/06/the-science-behind-the-press-release/

Heroes

Recently I've developed some unlikely heroes, at least for a physicist. One of them is Joel Salatin.

If you run with back-to-the-landers or the Mother Earth News crowd, you'll recognize Joel as the the man behind Polyface Farms. He and his family have been pioneers (since the '60s) of natural methods of raising livestock. Today, in addition to running Polyface, Joel is the voice of the anti-industrial farming movement. If you are into local food, if you want to be able to buy food directly from the farmer, he is your advocate.

Joel spends a great deal of time fighting what he calls "the food police" or, in his colorful way of phrasing it, the "US-duh". If you couldn't already gather, he has some pretty strong feelings about food regulation. His thesis: food regulations favor the large producers that can afford to comply, and the little guy - aka the small farmer - goes out of business due to the high overhead of compliance. He details this in his book Everything I Want to do is Illegal. It is an entertaining read, and the only book I know of that appeals to both "save the environment" liberals and "small government" conservatives. Perhaps appeal is the wrong word, because he lambasts both groups, but it beats the hell out of Ann Coulter or Al Franken. And it is about farms.

Anyway, my point: Joel is a hero. He strongly believes in his cause, he is working tireless as an advocate for small farming and local producers and he gets a lot of flack for it...from environmentalists and the government. But still he fights on.

And here is the thing about heroes. We like to read about them. What are their lives like? What do they believe in? How can I aspire to be more like that guy? After all, heroes are role models. We look up to them. We believe in them.

I picked up his recent book Folks, this Ain't Normal, an analysis of everything that is wrong with our current food system. And I am with him 100%. The CAFOs and slaughter houses, the drugs, the feed, everything about the current system is broken. Then he says something surprising: food regulation is the problem, not the solution.

Hold on a minute? Food regulation is the problem?

I have to stop here and say that I am not a small government person. I like government. I enjoy paying taxes. My taxes give me roads, and trips to the moon, and Mars exploration, and educates students, and pays my salary. The government provides assistance for the poor. They protect the environment. And my food.

Right?

Turns out there is a different perspective. You'll have to read the book, but he makes a pretty compelling case for exemptions for small producers who can demonstrate their products are safe, and that full disclosure about big industry practices would put them out of business. That you don't need the USDA.

Ok, I can take a little small government talk with my eco-friendly farming practices. So I press on.

I learn that the reason Joel is such an effective speaker and communicator is his training on the university debate team. Bob Jones University, to be exact, in Greenville, S. C. Now, I don't take issue with private religious education per se, but I am not accustomed to my environmental heroes coming from evangelical backgrounds. In fact, my stereotype for christian evangelicals is of the "God has given me dominion over the Earth so I can do whatever I damn well please" variety. One look at the Religious Right's stance on climate change or drilling for fossil fuels will reinforce that pretty quickly.

Ok, my environmentally savvy and local food promoting hero turns out to be an evangelical Christian. I can deal with that. Stereotypes are always wrong, right? Then, the bomb drops. I'll quote Joel from Folks, this Ain't Normal, out of chapter dealing with some of the science and dangers of GMO food:

"For the record, I'm a strict creationist -- I mean six days and the whole 'God spoke' thing."

What? Now my environmentally savvy, local-food promoting, GMO skeptic is a Creationist?

Now, stereotype or no stereotype, I am of the firm belief that anyone who holds to a strict interpretation of the Bible's creation story (or any other, for that matter) is simply ignorant. But Joel Salatin is far from ignorant. He is knowledgeable and thoughtful about his farming. He has bold ideas and is not afraid to find new ways to do things. His experimental approach is, dare I say, almost scientific in the way he tries something, refines it, excludes that which doesn't work, and continues to improve his methods and solutions.

And here I am, a big-government-environmentalist-liberal-atheist admiring the ideas and work of a small-government-evangelical-conservative-creationist.

Is that even allowed?

And suddenly I realized how unaccustomed I am to really delving deeply into the beliefs of others with whom I disagree. I've read all of Al Franken's books, but I wouldn't be caught dead reading anything by Ann Coulter. I only watch the wacko Glenn Beck clips on YouTube. I have unfriended many Tea Partiers on Facebook.

And yet, I can't let go of the good that Joel is doing for the planet by promoting his ideas and his farms. He is, after all, my hero. And I've learned a lesson. Joel's advice:

"Read things you're sure will disagree with your current thinking. It'll do your mind good and get your heart rate up."

I still have problems with the creationist thing, and if I ever meet Joel in person, we'll probably have a conversation about how you can't buy into breeding and selection and not allow for evolution, or that evolution is driving the antibiotic resistance in farm animals. But I imagine we'll have that conversation over drinks - I'll have a beer, and I imagine he'll have an iced tea, but you never know. And I doubt either of us will be swayed by the other's most compelling arguments. 

But I bet it would be an interesting conversation. 

Expecting...

Ever since moving to the farm, we have been more integrated into where our food comes from.  We have grown some of our own food, purchased a lot from local farmers, "put-by" nearly everything we need for winter, largely from local sources (martini olives excluded).  We have also started eating meat again, since we participate in raising and slaughtering our food.

In fact, everything we have done has left me more confident that we made the right decision.  You want vegetables?  You need cows, for the manure.  You want milk?  You need cows milk...and a lot of otherwise unwanted baby cows unless you raise them and eat them.  Ditto for cheese, butter, sour cream, etc.  Because of this, we have taken on the responsibility of slaughtering the animals we intend to eat, as quickly and humanely as possible.  We have done this for two cows, a pig, ten chickens, and eight trout so far.  None of this has made me squeamish or derailed my enjoyment of the meals that follow.  In fact, they have only been enhanced by knowing the sacrifice these animals make for us.

However, one thing has happened this week that may, in the end, put me back on the Vegan path:

This delightful creature is the buck that Kitty has been sequestered with for the last several days.  I am not sure I can even describe the smell, let alone the awful habits, of this creature.  He spits, wiggles his tongue, pees on is own face and belly...and the smell!  Since Thursday all the way through yesterday, Kitty seemed to hold the same opinion.  Every time this guy came near her, she'd run off leaving him to spit and wiggle and pee in her general direction. 

All of that changed this morning.  When I arrived to milk Kitty, she looked like she hadn't had much sleep. She was listless and droopy-eyed.  Her coat was also a matted sheen of goat pee.  The worst part?  She was now cuddling up to the buck, rubbing her face on him, nuzzling his neck.  

Clearly, something changed overnight.

So, she'll be doing this for another 12 hours, and then I'll bring her home.  With luck, in five months we'll have a couple of new kids and some milk for drinking and cheese making.

Provided I can stomach the stuff after what I've seen and smelled this weekend!

The generation that took us to the Moon...

Last night I had the opportunity to convey my condolences to the family of Ken Randle, a prominent engineer in the state of Utah.  Ken had a lifetime of engineering work with ties to the space program, and worked on "The Grand Tour" which ultimately resulted in the Voyager spacecrafts.  You can see recollections of his efforts, in his own words, in this video.  On the eve of his passing, Voyager 1 was continuing its transit of the heliopause, becoming the first human-made object to truly enter interstellar space.  In 40,000 years, this craft will be passing within 1.6 light years of the star AC+79 3888.

This is an exceptional legacy for any engineer, and Ken represents the generation of engineers, scientists, builders, and others with the imagination that took humans from farming to spaceflight.

Ken was born in 1923 and came of age in a generation when the world experienced incredible changes.  Between 1900 and 1950, America went from a farming nation with more than half of the population living on farms to an industrial nation with only 16% of people still living on a farm.  Based on my short interaction with Ken, I am not sure which half he was in, but something tells me that if he wasn't raised on a farm, his parents may have been, and his grandparents certainly were.

I suspect even in 1950 there wasn't quite the stark line between "farm" and "non-farm" as we have today.  If people didn't have chickens in their garage (like my mother) or have the "pig man" drop by to get scraps for the local hogs (like S.'s mother), than they at least were visited by the milk man and the grocer probably knew all the local farmers.  There may have been a cannery or two, and possible a grain mill, near town.  I can't help but think there was a connection between the rural-ness of America, and the birth of great engineers like Ken.

My own father, another great engineer from a similar generation, grew up in Rochester, MN, his own father the city's engineer.  My grandmother held on to a bit of farming.  She raised a garden, rented a freezer to store meat in bulk - probably bought by the whole, half, or quarter - and knew how to put up the harvest for winter.  Yes, my dad left that "farm" and largely threw off those rural habits.  And when I asked him why he left Rochester, he told me "that's just what you did."  I suppose the birth rate going from 80 per 1000 women to 118 between 1940 and 1960 means there's less room on the "ranch".  Those kids must move on to something.  That something turned out to be industrializing the nation and sending men to the Moon.

But I feel the connection is deeper than just "we generated a bunch of kids to go off and become engineers."  I think there must be some connection between my grandmother's canning of tomatoes and my dad's desire to build the next generation of power plants.  I can't help thinking that Ken worked so diligently on "The Grand Tour" because he had some experience with horses, and grew up in a more rural America.

Our friends' daughter is coming back to our "farm" to help with the chores tonight.  She learned in school about Texas, about the wide open spaces, and about the cattle that graze that range.  She says she wants to grow up to be a rancher and farmer there, and needs to get experience as early as possible. She helps clean tack, muck stalls, and milks the goat.

I don't know if she is really going to grow up to be a rancher in Texas, but last night reminded me that the generation that took us to the Moon probably knew how to milk a goat.

From consumer to producer

S. and I have been doing a lot of stuff for ourselves lately such as raising our own food, making our own stuff, learning skills to make more of our own stuff, etc.  Most of this we do because we enjoy it (in my case, baking bread and brewing beer), while other things we do because we have to (house cleaning and chicken killing come to mind).  This new lifestyle is a lot of work, but, at the same time, it is very satisfying.

I know it's a little sad, but the scientist in me would like to quantify that satisfaction.  So I sat down this afternoon to compute exactly how satisfying this type of stuff is.  I wanted to know how, as a producer, we were impacting our economy.

My first inclination is to scale up our activities and ask "how much would we have to produce to make a living doing this?"

But that misses the point.  I don't want to be a goat farmer, I want to be a physics professor.  I like, and occasionally love, my job.  I don't want to figure the economic impact by what it would take to bring my produce to market.

Then I noticed something: the more S. and I produce, the less often we go to "the market".  So there is a dollar value associated with our produce.  It is the value of the dollar we didn't spend buying something at the grocery store.

The calculation is pretty simple.  I figured out how much it cost me to, say, bake bread, and how many times a year I do this activity.  Then, I calculated the market value of the product that I didn't buy because of the activity.  Since I've gotten pretty good a baking bread over the years, my product fetches the premium artisan price (as does our cheese, milk, beer, nightly dinners, etc, but I have I high opinion of the stuff we make).  I also factored in the labor involved to make it, with one caveat: if we do the activity for fun, the labor costs are zero.

Luckily, I love to bake bread.  I also love to milk goats, raise chickens, make cheese and brew beer.  So, labor costs are pretty minimal.  I don't, for example, like to clean the house, but since I work in a small regional state-run university, two hours of my time is still less than the weekly cleaning fee to hire a housekeeper, so I still come out ahead on that one over the course of the year.

The result?  Something like the equivalent of 12 weeks of "work" are saved by doing this stuff ourselves.  Another way to think about it: I could work 12 fewer weeks with the money "saved" from producing our own stuff.  Or, since I can't do that, I have freed up 12 weeks of "salary" to put toward other stuff.

Side Note: The most profitable thing I do all year is brew beer.  A pleasant surprise.

There is one problem with this exercise.  According to the economic wizards, by saving money and producing for ourselves, we are actually hurting the economy.  But I suppose our "produce" has not been tabulated in the GDP.  Maybe I should forward my spreadsheet to the Fed.

S. read me a quote the other day:

"A dollar earned is 70 cents...a dollar saved is 100 cents"

What is the value of a dollar produced?