Experiment 1 [serious eats]

Experiment number one. It seemed too easy. I gathered my two ingredients and equipment.  Our guest was due to arrive in half an hour. D was in the kitchen with me--he was prepping a mix-in for the ice cream he would make later. He had a sheet pan with foil and a single layer of rolled oats and a sauce pan of white sugar. I poured the goat into the pan and set it to medium, juiced some lemons, and clipped the candy thermometer in place. The magic temperature of 180 degrees was a little tricky. I kept having to stir the pot as a skin kept developing atop the goat and every time I did the temperature would spike. So it was stir and spike, stir and spike for about a half hour. By the time I hit 180, D had a toasted oatmeal brittle cooling and I had a hot goat off the heat. I poured the lemon juice in and instantly it curdled. It looked pretty gross. And, I wasn't sure if I should wait for it to cool at all or what. The recipe didn't say anything about waiting so after a couple minutes I started ladling it into the cheese cloth, tied it up, and hung it up. I had to improvise to get it high enough.

An hour and a half later, this is what I had:

 I daresay it looks like a cherub's dirty diaper. I have to say, I was very disappointed that the volume went from a full quart of goat milk to like 2/3 cup of cheese. And that's a generous estimate. It tasted good, delicate and modest but certainly not twangy like the goat cheese I was expecting. The texture was more like a dry ricotta than chèvre, for sure. But I figured maybe it needed to chill, maybe it needed to rest--something.

So I dumped it in a rubbermaid and stuck it in the fridge. White gazpacho was finished ahead of schedule, so on some french bread it went with a grape, almond garnish. It complimented the soup well and was a tasty flash of texture. But how would it end up?

The next day the texture was drier and crumbly, like the feta sprinkles you buy once and never again. I added some herbs, lemon zest, and olive oil--all of which overpowered any twang that might have presented itself, although it did wonders for the texture.

The end result was delicious but I have to wonder if it was the crusty, toasted LaBrea Bakery bread that made the day.

Conclusion, this is a great recipe for a young, tame, subtle cheese that can be turned around in under two hours. Would I pay a premium price for this cheese? Nooooo. Is this the recipe upon which to base a business investment? Puh-shaw. I want twang. I want unequivocal goat. I want goat funk. I want bachelor goat, out all night, drank Ouzo til dawn funk. This was amateur hour. The recipe search continues.