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Cultures for Health Starter Cultures and Real Food Supplies

 

Okay, so you hear all the time about people going paper towel-free. And they’re all, Whoo, the environment!

 

Well, The Boy and I went paper towel free about a year ago, and while whoo-the-environment was a factor, there was also a lot of whoo-I-am-not-paying-for-shit-we-just-use-and-throw-out-anymore. Creepy Leonard believes this means I will one day become the quintessential hard-ass thrifty mom, except with worse language and louder makeup. He may be right. He may be wrong. He also may be murdered dead, for calling me a hard-ass. WHO’S A HARD-ASS NOW, YOU FUCKING FUCK?!

 

Where was I? Oh, right, Xanax.

 

Okay, so  being cheap  going paper towel free is a lot easier if you buy totally kickass kitchen linens and napkins like these. Then you’re all excited to use linen instead of paper. It’s like exercising, how people say you should buy yourself pretty workout clothes to keep you motivated. Except it’s not like exercise, because this doesn’t royally suck ass.

 

Okay, so here’s the deal–if you really want to go paper towel free successfully, the BMG recommends you do these five things:

 

1) Do not make this a religious fucking experience. “OMG, friends, we are, like, so in communion with nature now because we don’t use paper towels and also, like, we refuse to associate with anyone who does use paper towels and OMG if you ever slip up once and use paper towels, you must really hate Mother Earth and all and also we are naming our firstborn ‘Hummus.’” If I used paper towels and you said something like that to me, I would be tempted to jam a new oil pipeline right into Mother Nature’s uterus to show you just how much I fucking care about your opinions. But as it happens, I love Mother Nature, so I would never shove a pipeline into her uterus. I would shove one into yours instead.

 

2) Start by keeping a backup roll hidden away, in case you have a day where you’re feeling weak. This isn’t about being perfect, it’s about not using as many fricking paper towels. As it happens, The Boy and I no longer have a backup roll because after using cloth towels for so long and cleaning up after last year’s devastating flood, our durability standards have really gone up and the ability of paper towels to do anything well just seems so laughable that we never reach for ‘em anymore. If you have kids, you’ll really appreciate just how much cleaner they leave the table when they have a moist washcloth to clean themselves up with/chew on/fling at their siblings. If I had kids, I’d probably make them use their washcloth to clean up their table spot and chair before they leave. You’re never too old to help Mama clean. SHUT UP, CREEPY LEONARD.

 

3) Keep your “tough mess” towels separate from your face/hand/food towels. The idea of using the rag that mopped up mud and dustbunnies from the floor, laundered though it may be, to swaddle a just-baked loaf of sourdough is as instinctively repugnant to me as it probably is to you, and if this process is repugnant you will just not do it. Ya gotta keep ‘em separated.

 

Bonus points if I’ve just lodged that song into your brain.

 

Oh, yeah, and educate every The Boy in your life about which cloths are used for which purpose and be prepared to do this many times because oh my gosh.  Their limited retention for such details.   Is adorable.

 

4) Start with enough linens to make a full load of laundry. This means you won’t have to wash your grubbies with your clothing, nor will you have to run an empty washer load (see: Mother Earth, BMG Ain’t Made o’ Money), nor will you run out of linens before you’re ready to do laundry.

 

Practically ready. Not emotionally ready. Nobody’s ever emotionally ready to do laundry.

 

This might sound expensive, but between the dollar store and hand-me-downs and ripped up clothing rags and those fabric scraps you KNOW you are just never going to use for anything else, you should be good, or almost good.

 

5) Different linens for different needs. Obviously the most delicate pieces can be used for napkins (the small ones) and kitchen/bread towels (the big ‘uns), but you should also have some of those auto chamois type things (great for absorbing liquid), some really nubby scrubby type things (for “textured messes”), and a few large bath towel-sized rags (for when your homestead floods or a pipe bursts or a keg explodes and you want to prevent breaking your right ass-bone.  Again.

 

Oh, you laugh NOW…

 

© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2012 Genevieve Charet

 

I’m sorry, but have you searched “build your own cheese press” lately?

 

Well, no offense to the sturdy, obviously well-crafted examples out there that utilize wood beams, specialty screws/nuts/bolts, custom-cut PVC, levers, pulleys, ball bearings, flux capacitors blah blah blah blah freaking blah, but what if you’re looking to make cheese the eco-friendly way?  (OKAY FINE, THE CHEAP-ASS WAY, I’M DOING THIS BECAUSE I AM CHEAP.)  I mean, if you have that fancy stuff lyin’ around, (scrap pile, anyone?), go for it!  I didn’t.

 

And I knew that I was willing to craft a slightly less sturdy, more rickety, small-child endangering setup if it meant I could make hard cheeses for virtually zero expense. I mean, life is full of trade-offs, right?  And it’s important for the little dudes and dudettes to learn to run from predators  haphazard homesteading equipment.  So I present to you!

 

The Completely Effective and FREE Homemade Cheese Press That is So Crappy Looking It’s Endearing
Makes 1 hilarious cheese press

Go Get:

*2 clean, round-ish rigid plastic food storage containers that nest tightly inside one another;  size will depend on the batch sizes, but many hard cheese recipes start with 2 gallons of milk, which makes about 2 pounds of hard cheese.  I used 8-inch diameter Tupperware-style containers that came up about 4 inches high, and they worked nicely, with room to spare.

*2 large, sturdy cutting boards (as you can see in the pictures, last week I subbed in a really sturdy cookie sheet for one of the cutting boards because I didn’t feel like doing the dishes–this is doable, but not as strong)

*Weights (This is where your cookbook collection comes in.  WHAT?  I said cheap-ass and I meant cheap-ass!  Other good candidates include bricks, cinder blocks, those stackable disc weights like at the gym, bags of flour/sugar, or small children who can sit still for at least twelve hours.  The Boy had a 38-pound hydroponic lighting ballast handy (What?  You don’t have such things “handy”?), so we made good use of that.  You’ll need various amounts of weight, probably ranging between ten and fifty pounds, for most recipes.)

 

Go Do:

Holding one food storage tub firmly against your work surface, use a drill to pierce small drainage holes all over the sides and bottom.  I think one hole every few inches or so is good.  A little cracking is no big deal–hey, extra drainage!  IT WAS TOTALLY INTENDED.

 

Now imagine this: your cheese curds will be wrapped in cheesecloth and nested inside the holey (not holy.  This IS, most decidedly, not a sacred cheese press…bitches.) food tub, which is resting on one sturdy cutting board stretched over the sink or a bucket of sorts.

 

The unholey (or unholy, sure) food tub will rest on top of the curds and support the board and weights.  When the weights are placed evenly across the board, it will press the unholey food tub down onto the draining curds and force extra whey out of the press, forming a hard cheese that will hold itself together in a wheel shape.

 

Tah da!  You’ve just made one impressively cheap-ass cheese press!  Merry Christmas, from one tightwad to another!

 

© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2012 Genevieve Charet

Okay, so it’s a well-known fact (at least to those who know me in da realz worldz) that I have the most horrendous, skin-crawly reaction to that god-awful Bruno Mars song, “Grenade.” You know the one. With the BAD BAD BADLY written lyrics.

 

“I’d catch a grenADE fer ya!  Throw my hand on a BLADE fer ya!  Take a bullet straight through my BRAIIIN…”

 

Wait, wait…lemme guess…

 

“FER YA!!”

 

Wow!  It’s so brilliant how he just comes up with hard “A” sounds and follows them with “FER YA!” isn’t it, guys?  Forget Coltrane!  Forget Porter!  BRUNO MARS IS THE ONLY REAL SONGWRITING LEGEND!

 

Okay, so you sense my contempt.

 

Well, anyhow.  The Boy and I were headed back from Chinatown last night (PUT DA PORK BUN IN MY MOUFF PLACE!  RIGHT NOW!)  And we may or may not have come up with alternate verses for Mr. Mars.  Are you listening, Mr. Mars?  I’d like to share some sweet new lyrics…WITH YA’.

 

I’d…

Take up macraME fer ya!

Puke on a PLANE fer ya!

Drink lemonADE fer ya!

Garden in CLAY fer ya!

Fuck a bundle o’ HAY fer ya!

Adopt a highWAY fer ya!

Blow off Mother’s DAY fer ya!

Talk on my cell through a PLAY fer ya!

Fix yer brunch on a TRAY fer ya!

Be Art Vandelay fer ya!

Turn Canadian..EH fer ya!

Procure a fish filET fer ya!

Read Genny CharET fer ya!

Eat a box of Old BAY fer ya!

Buy you some new CRAYolas!…fer ya!

Identify a Blue JAY fer ya!

Learn the comparative usages of lie and LAY fer ya!

Fight in a melEE fer ya!  (the fullness of my geekitude…it has been revealed)

Name a child ShantAY fer ya!

Have The Aunt PRAY fer ya!

Watch “Carlito’s WAY” fer ya!

 

 

You’re all welcome!

 

And now, a brief conversation about “Silence of the Lambs” with The Boy!

The Boy:  “It would really suck to be married to Hannibal Lecter.”

Me: “‘Cause of the cannibalism.”

The Boy: “Well, that, too, I guess.  But I was referring to the redundant breakfasts.  Fava beans every goddamn day!”

Me: “Oh, god.”

The Boy: “Drink your chianti, Clarice!  You have a long work day ahead of you!”

Me: “‘Can’t we ever have mimosas?  JUST ONCE?!’”

“You used to LIKE my fava beans.  But I guess now I’m just old hat to you.  The honeymoon is over, huh?  The magic is gone, I guess?  Time to trade this Hannibal in for a newer model, I guess?”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean that.  I was jus–”

“You know, Clarice, I slave over my liver day in, day out, and you never appreciate it.  You didn’t even notice my new apron!  And I bought it in your favorite color, just for you!”

“Hanny baby, I’m sorry, I DO appreciate everything you do…look, I’ll try to get out of work early tonight, we’ll go to that farm…the one with the screaming lambs.  Just like old times.  You like that, right?”

“Well, I…I guess I could go have my hair done…”

“That’s my girl.”  <smooch>

 

I’m not sure how that turned into an episode of “I Love Lucy.”  But it did.  Let’s just accept that and move on.

 

© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2012 Genevieve Charet

 

Okay, here it is–she’s finally, really and truly, lost it.

 

And to that, I say, no, this post does not signify the losing of my marbles once and for all.  That ship sailed long ago, misfits.  At this point, there’s little any of us can do except sit back and laugh and laugh and laugh AND LAUGH AND LAUGH AND LAUGH.

 

These are just like the, um, “curiously strong,” ones you might find at your local grocery’s checkout.  But you get to customize with any and every extract you can get yer pretty lil’ paws on.  Wanna go all Victorian and old school?  Use rose water or lavender.  Or make sour raspberry pastilles.  How ’bout vanilla mint?  Or extreme cherry?  Hell, why not cola, or lemon, or butter rum?

 

The options, misfits.  THEY ARE ENDLESS.

 

Homemade Breath Mints
Makes 1 heaping pint of large-ish mints

Go Get:

2 cups dry gum paste mix (available at most craft stores in the cake decorating section)
2 Tablespoons water
2 1/2 Tablespoons (about 1 oz) peppermint extract (or flavor extract of your choice)
Several handfuls powdered sugar, for dusting
Optional: If you want a sour flavor (i.e. sour cherry, sour citrus, etc.), you’ll want to buy powdered citric acid and add it to taste.  I have this around for occasional cheesemaking purposes.  You can find it in many hobby/homebrew shops, online, in the canning section of some groceries, or in some ethnic and health food shops–I got mine at Whole Foods.

Go Do:

Dump the gum paste mix into a bowl with your citric acid, if using, and combine well.

 

Add the water and extract, stir well.

 

Tthen dust your work surfaces with powdered sugar and knead the mixture thoroughly into a stiff dough.

 

Taste a tiny piece to make sure the flavoring is strong enough for you, and adjust if necessary.

At this point, you can either roll out your dough and punch out shapes or cut it into rough squares, or just pinch off little pieces and roll it into balls.  Either way, make sure to keep things lightly dusted with confectioner’s sugar to prevent sticking, and place finished mints onto powdered parchment.

 

After you’ve finished forming your mints, dust them with a little more powdered sugar.  If you’ve rolled them into balls (like I have), they’ll be rounder if you shuffle the pan around to roll the balls around the cookie sheet’s surface.

 

Leave the mints to air dry on the parchment for 2 to 4 days, (less time for teeny tiny mints, more time for larger ones), tossing them once or twice a day to expose new sides to the air.  When they’re hard and dry, pack them into recycled tins or the containers of your choice, and enjoy feeling like a DIY badass.

 

© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2012 Genevieve Charet
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Photo by Nevit

 

Take a recent conversation between yours truly and that friend I made those kickass interracial romance aquarium cupcakes for.

 

Gen: “Yeah, dude, therapy’s addictive.”
Phil: It is!  I love therapeutic shit!”
Gen: “Yeah.  Me, too.”
Phil: “Yeah, therapeutic shit…THERAPEUTIC SHIT!  I’m going for acupuncture this week!”
Gen: “Wow!  For what?”
Phil: “For acupuncture!”
Gen: “Yeah, but what is the acupuncture for?”
Phil: “WHO FUCKING CARES?!”

 

Love you, dude.

 

 

© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2012 Genevieve Charet
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