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"Every time I make it, I feel the magic." (Photo: Chiot's Run/flickr/cc)
I'm not feeling very radical these days. There is not a lot of fighting the power or beating the system or rocking the boat. I am taking care of kids. Right now, that involves a lot of ballet lessons, broccoli summits and fielding questions about superhero characteristics.
"What can Batman do, Mom? Mom!"
"Mooooom? Does he wear leggings, Mom?"
"Does he have a cape?"
"Is there a girl Batman? Mom!"
"Oh yeah, and I am making cheese."
Blessed are the cheesemakers.
I'm not feeling very radical these days. There is not a lot of fighting the power or beating the system or rocking the boat. I am taking care of kids. Right now, that involves a lot of ballet lessons, broccoli summits and fielding questions about superhero characteristics.
"What can Batman do, Mom? Mom!"
"Mooooom? Does he wear leggings, Mom?"
"Does he have a cape?"
"Is there a girl Batman? Mom!"
"Oh yeah, and I am making cheese."
Blessed are the cheesemakers.
I was reminded of that line from Monty Python's "Life of Brian" last Saturday afternoon, while teaching 20 folks how to make simple cheeses in an Episcopal church hall in New London, Connecticut. Of course, as the rest of the line goes, it's not meant to be taken literally. It refers to all manufacturers of dairy products.
I presented cheesemaking as an exercise in self-sufficiency, exploration and embracing mystery. That might strike you as a little too high-minded for the simple act of mixing warm milk and vinegar. But the throng of curious dairy lovers were all on the same page. They were eager to get an introduction to cheesemaking and semi-appreciative of my many curds and whey jokes.
Until relatively recently in human history, making cheese was an intensely local, home or village craft passed down and adapted generation to generation. At its most elemental, cheesemaking is a process of preserving and concentrating a perishable farm product, and there are countless ways to do that. I showed the class how to tackle three -- ricotta (milk and vinegar), paneer (milk and citrus) and mozzarella (milk, rennet and citric acid) -- in our short time together.
I started making cheese and yogurt at home because our family is on Women, Infants and Children, or WIC -- a program that offers nutritional subsidies to families with small children. We have been getting WIC since I was pregnant with Seamus (now nearly 4) and can stay on it until Madeline (who just turned 2) is 5. Every month, we get vouchers for six gallons of milk, and -- because the vouchers require you to purchase everything all at once -- we often get two or three gallons at a time. That is a lot of milk for our slightly lactose-intolerant family. I grew up on powdered milk (which is so gross) and never had a hankering for a tall glass of milk. Our kids drink it occasionally, and we pour it on our cereal (of course), but we'd never consume six gallons a month. So, I turned to yogurt and then to cheese as a way of getting it into our kids' bodies.
Every time I make it, I feel the magic. I know it is science -- all about fat and sugar molecules (or something) and good bacteria. But there is a "Wow, I can't believe that worked" moment that puts me in touch with my ancestors 200 years ago, who made cheese in between hauling water, chopping firewood, tending their gardens and staving off disease. They would not be impressed by me, but I am trying.
What's more, making cheese -- even the really simple cheeses -- puts me in touch with how strange our relationship to food is in the United States. There are hundreds ofcooking shows on TV, thousands of new cookbooks each year (Gwyneth Paltrow has one coming out this month) and -- get this -- no one cooks any more.
Well, that is not entirely true, but in March, for the first time ever (at least since theCommerce Department started paying attention), people in the United States spent more money in restaurants and bars than at grocery stores. That is sort of staggering, isn't it? At least for our eating-out-once-a-month (maybe) family.
Are those restaurant denizens the same folks who would drop $30 on the "Skinnytaste Cookbook"? Or buy the "Thug Kitchen Official Cookbook" (whose subtitle is "Eat Like you Give a F*ck," for a list price of $25.99)? And are they the same people who are always on a diet? Forty-five million Americans are dieting right now, and that is not just eating less and exercising more -- it is also spending $33 billion on books, apps, gym memberships, boxed low-calorie meals, special shakes and inspiration (according to the Boston Medical Center estimates). See what I mean about a strange relationship with food and with food-like substances? The average person in this country gets nearly 60 percent of their daily energy intake and about 90 percent of their added sugar from "ultra-processed" foods (even with all that buying cookbooks and going on diets).
I like how making cheese from free milk that the government gives me allows me to circumvent this whole twisted economy of food, convenience and fear of fatness. But then I think about milk -- where it comes from, how it gets from a lactating cow to a gallon jug in my shopping cart -- and I know I am caught in a whole other twisted food web.
Marion Nestle, a professor at New York University, tried to teach a class on the Farm Bill and realized that it was too dense, too political and too contradictory to add up to sensible food policy. Many aspects of the Farm Bill are in direct conflict with the goals of healthy living, sustainable agriculture or food security. If you tried to eat a plate of the Farm Bill, she writes in In These Times, you'd be scolded by your doctor because "more than three-quarters of your plate would be taken up by a massive corn fritter (80 percent of benefits go to corn, grains and soy oil). You'd have a Dixie cup of milk (dairy gets 3 percent), a hamburger the size of a half dollar (livestock: 2 percent), two peas (fruits and vegetables: 0.45 percent) and an after-dinner cigarette (tobacco: 2 percent). Oh, and a really big linen napkin (cotton: 13 percent) to dab your lips."
Yuck. No wonder cheese is the most shoplifted item in the world (bet those of you who don't listen to "Science Friday" on NPR didn't know that).
I still have a lot to learn about food and food policy, but -- in the meantime-- this is how you make cheese: Pour milk in heavy bottomed pot, add salt and bring to a boil. Stir in a few tablespoons of vinegar. Let it sit for a minute and then strain through cheesecloth. Half an hour later, you are noshing on delicious ricotta. Now that's radical.
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I'm not feeling very radical these days. There is not a lot of fighting the power or beating the system or rocking the boat. I am taking care of kids. Right now, that involves a lot of ballet lessons, broccoli summits and fielding questions about superhero characteristics.
"What can Batman do, Mom? Mom!"
"Mooooom? Does he wear leggings, Mom?"
"Does he have a cape?"
"Is there a girl Batman? Mom!"
"Oh yeah, and I am making cheese."
Blessed are the cheesemakers.
I was reminded of that line from Monty Python's "Life of Brian" last Saturday afternoon, while teaching 20 folks how to make simple cheeses in an Episcopal church hall in New London, Connecticut. Of course, as the rest of the line goes, it's not meant to be taken literally. It refers to all manufacturers of dairy products.
I presented cheesemaking as an exercise in self-sufficiency, exploration and embracing mystery. That might strike you as a little too high-minded for the simple act of mixing warm milk and vinegar. But the throng of curious dairy lovers were all on the same page. They were eager to get an introduction to cheesemaking and semi-appreciative of my many curds and whey jokes.
Until relatively recently in human history, making cheese was an intensely local, home or village craft passed down and adapted generation to generation. At its most elemental, cheesemaking is a process of preserving and concentrating a perishable farm product, and there are countless ways to do that. I showed the class how to tackle three -- ricotta (milk and vinegar), paneer (milk and citrus) and mozzarella (milk, rennet and citric acid) -- in our short time together.
I started making cheese and yogurt at home because our family is on Women, Infants and Children, or WIC -- a program that offers nutritional subsidies to families with small children. We have been getting WIC since I was pregnant with Seamus (now nearly 4) and can stay on it until Madeline (who just turned 2) is 5. Every month, we get vouchers for six gallons of milk, and -- because the vouchers require you to purchase everything all at once -- we often get two or three gallons at a time. That is a lot of milk for our slightly lactose-intolerant family. I grew up on powdered milk (which is so gross) and never had a hankering for a tall glass of milk. Our kids drink it occasionally, and we pour it on our cereal (of course), but we'd never consume six gallons a month. So, I turned to yogurt and then to cheese as a way of getting it into our kids' bodies.
Every time I make it, I feel the magic. I know it is science -- all about fat and sugar molecules (or something) and good bacteria. But there is a "Wow, I can't believe that worked" moment that puts me in touch with my ancestors 200 years ago, who made cheese in between hauling water, chopping firewood, tending their gardens and staving off disease. They would not be impressed by me, but I am trying.
What's more, making cheese -- even the really simple cheeses -- puts me in touch with how strange our relationship to food is in the United States. There are hundreds ofcooking shows on TV, thousands of new cookbooks each year (Gwyneth Paltrow has one coming out this month) and -- get this -- no one cooks any more.
Well, that is not entirely true, but in March, for the first time ever (at least since theCommerce Department started paying attention), people in the United States spent more money in restaurants and bars than at grocery stores. That is sort of staggering, isn't it? At least for our eating-out-once-a-month (maybe) family.
Are those restaurant denizens the same folks who would drop $30 on the "Skinnytaste Cookbook"? Or buy the "Thug Kitchen Official Cookbook" (whose subtitle is "Eat Like you Give a F*ck," for a list price of $25.99)? And are they the same people who are always on a diet? Forty-five million Americans are dieting right now, and that is not just eating less and exercising more -- it is also spending $33 billion on books, apps, gym memberships, boxed low-calorie meals, special shakes and inspiration (according to the Boston Medical Center estimates). See what I mean about a strange relationship with food and with food-like substances? The average person in this country gets nearly 60 percent of their daily energy intake and about 90 percent of their added sugar from "ultra-processed" foods (even with all that buying cookbooks and going on diets).
I like how making cheese from free milk that the government gives me allows me to circumvent this whole twisted economy of food, convenience and fear of fatness. But then I think about milk -- where it comes from, how it gets from a lactating cow to a gallon jug in my shopping cart -- and I know I am caught in a whole other twisted food web.
Marion Nestle, a professor at New York University, tried to teach a class on the Farm Bill and realized that it was too dense, too political and too contradictory to add up to sensible food policy. Many aspects of the Farm Bill are in direct conflict with the goals of healthy living, sustainable agriculture or food security. If you tried to eat a plate of the Farm Bill, she writes in In These Times, you'd be scolded by your doctor because "more than three-quarters of your plate would be taken up by a massive corn fritter (80 percent of benefits go to corn, grains and soy oil). You'd have a Dixie cup of milk (dairy gets 3 percent), a hamburger the size of a half dollar (livestock: 2 percent), two peas (fruits and vegetables: 0.45 percent) and an after-dinner cigarette (tobacco: 2 percent). Oh, and a really big linen napkin (cotton: 13 percent) to dab your lips."
Yuck. No wonder cheese is the most shoplifted item in the world (bet those of you who don't listen to "Science Friday" on NPR didn't know that).
I still have a lot to learn about food and food policy, but -- in the meantime-- this is how you make cheese: Pour milk in heavy bottomed pot, add salt and bring to a boil. Stir in a few tablespoons of vinegar. Let it sit for a minute and then strain through cheesecloth. Half an hour later, you are noshing on delicious ricotta. Now that's radical.
I'm not feeling very radical these days. There is not a lot of fighting the power or beating the system or rocking the boat. I am taking care of kids. Right now, that involves a lot of ballet lessons, broccoli summits and fielding questions about superhero characteristics.
"What can Batman do, Mom? Mom!"
"Mooooom? Does he wear leggings, Mom?"
"Does he have a cape?"
"Is there a girl Batman? Mom!"
"Oh yeah, and I am making cheese."
Blessed are the cheesemakers.
I was reminded of that line from Monty Python's "Life of Brian" last Saturday afternoon, while teaching 20 folks how to make simple cheeses in an Episcopal church hall in New London, Connecticut. Of course, as the rest of the line goes, it's not meant to be taken literally. It refers to all manufacturers of dairy products.
I presented cheesemaking as an exercise in self-sufficiency, exploration and embracing mystery. That might strike you as a little too high-minded for the simple act of mixing warm milk and vinegar. But the throng of curious dairy lovers were all on the same page. They were eager to get an introduction to cheesemaking and semi-appreciative of my many curds and whey jokes.
Until relatively recently in human history, making cheese was an intensely local, home or village craft passed down and adapted generation to generation. At its most elemental, cheesemaking is a process of preserving and concentrating a perishable farm product, and there are countless ways to do that. I showed the class how to tackle three -- ricotta (milk and vinegar), paneer (milk and citrus) and mozzarella (milk, rennet and citric acid) -- in our short time together.
I started making cheese and yogurt at home because our family is on Women, Infants and Children, or WIC -- a program that offers nutritional subsidies to families with small children. We have been getting WIC since I was pregnant with Seamus (now nearly 4) and can stay on it until Madeline (who just turned 2) is 5. Every month, we get vouchers for six gallons of milk, and -- because the vouchers require you to purchase everything all at once -- we often get two or three gallons at a time. That is a lot of milk for our slightly lactose-intolerant family. I grew up on powdered milk (which is so gross) and never had a hankering for a tall glass of milk. Our kids drink it occasionally, and we pour it on our cereal (of course), but we'd never consume six gallons a month. So, I turned to yogurt and then to cheese as a way of getting it into our kids' bodies.
Every time I make it, I feel the magic. I know it is science -- all about fat and sugar molecules (or something) and good bacteria. But there is a "Wow, I can't believe that worked" moment that puts me in touch with my ancestors 200 years ago, who made cheese in between hauling water, chopping firewood, tending their gardens and staving off disease. They would not be impressed by me, but I am trying.
What's more, making cheese -- even the really simple cheeses -- puts me in touch with how strange our relationship to food is in the United States. There are hundreds ofcooking shows on TV, thousands of new cookbooks each year (Gwyneth Paltrow has one coming out this month) and -- get this -- no one cooks any more.
Well, that is not entirely true, but in March, for the first time ever (at least since theCommerce Department started paying attention), people in the United States spent more money in restaurants and bars than at grocery stores. That is sort of staggering, isn't it? At least for our eating-out-once-a-month (maybe) family.
Are those restaurant denizens the same folks who would drop $30 on the "Skinnytaste Cookbook"? Or buy the "Thug Kitchen Official Cookbook" (whose subtitle is "Eat Like you Give a F*ck," for a list price of $25.99)? And are they the same people who are always on a diet? Forty-five million Americans are dieting right now, and that is not just eating less and exercising more -- it is also spending $33 billion on books, apps, gym memberships, boxed low-calorie meals, special shakes and inspiration (according to the Boston Medical Center estimates). See what I mean about a strange relationship with food and with food-like substances? The average person in this country gets nearly 60 percent of their daily energy intake and about 90 percent of their added sugar from "ultra-processed" foods (even with all that buying cookbooks and going on diets).
I like how making cheese from free milk that the government gives me allows me to circumvent this whole twisted economy of food, convenience and fear of fatness. But then I think about milk -- where it comes from, how it gets from a lactating cow to a gallon jug in my shopping cart -- and I know I am caught in a whole other twisted food web.
Marion Nestle, a professor at New York University, tried to teach a class on the Farm Bill and realized that it was too dense, too political and too contradictory to add up to sensible food policy. Many aspects of the Farm Bill are in direct conflict with the goals of healthy living, sustainable agriculture or food security. If you tried to eat a plate of the Farm Bill, she writes in In These Times, you'd be scolded by your doctor because "more than three-quarters of your plate would be taken up by a massive corn fritter (80 percent of benefits go to corn, grains and soy oil). You'd have a Dixie cup of milk (dairy gets 3 percent), a hamburger the size of a half dollar (livestock: 2 percent), two peas (fruits and vegetables: 0.45 percent) and an after-dinner cigarette (tobacco: 2 percent). Oh, and a really big linen napkin (cotton: 13 percent) to dab your lips."
Yuck. No wonder cheese is the most shoplifted item in the world (bet those of you who don't listen to "Science Friday" on NPR didn't know that).
I still have a lot to learn about food and food policy, but -- in the meantime-- this is how you make cheese: Pour milk in heavy bottomed pot, add salt and bring to a boil. Stir in a few tablespoons of vinegar. Let it sit for a minute and then strain through cheesecloth. Half an hour later, you are noshing on delicious ricotta. Now that's radical.
"What will come out next about Bove?" said one senator as a confirmation vote loomed. "That's precisely the problem with this disaster of a nominee. And why Senate Republicans are rushing through his nomination."
With the U.S. Senate poised to vote as early as Tuesday on Trump administration official Emil Bove's nomination for a lifetime appointment as a federal judge, a third whistleblower came forward with information about Bove's conduct at the Department of Justice and Democratic senators made their latest push to stop his confirmation.
As The Washington Post reported, a whistleblower shared evidence with lawmakers that Bove, the principal associate deputy attorney general and a former personal attorney to President Donald Trump, misled the Senate Judiciary Committee regarding his role in the DOJ's dismissal of corruption charges against New York City Mayor Eric Adams.
During his confirmation hearing in June, Bove told senators that U.S. District Judge Dale Ho granted the DOJ's motion to dismiss the Adams case because it "reflected a valid exercise of prosecutorial discretion."
He denied the existence of the DOJ deal with Adams to drop the charges in exchange for the mayor's cooperation with Trump's mass deportation agenda, saying that "the suggestion that there was some kind of quid pro quo was just plain false."
The decision to drop the charges led several prosecutors to resign from the DOJ in protest.
Sen. Cory Booker (D-N.J.), who serves on the Senate Judiciary Committee and condemned Republicans' decision to advance Bove's nomination earlier this month, first received evidence from the third whistleblower, according to the Post. Several other Democrats have also reviewed the evidence, which Booker told the outlet was "significant."
"We have substantial information relevant to the truthfulness of the nominee," Booker said on the Senate floor, calling on Republicans on the committee to review the new evidence.
"Another whistleblower has come forward with evidence that raises serious concerns with Emil Bove's misconduct. Senate Republicans will bear full responsibility for the consequences if they rubber stamp Mr. Bove's nomination."
Lawyers for the anonymous whistleblower told the Post on Tuesday that they had turned over the new information provided by the person to the DOJ inspector general.
Booker was joined by Sen. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.) on Tuesday in calling on the DOJ's inspector general to promptly open an investigation into Bove in light of the latest whistleblower complaint.
"In the event these whistleblower complaints and other reports have not already prompted investigations by your office, we urge you to undertake a thorough review of these disclosures and allegations," said the lawmakers.
Two other whistleblowers have come forward in recent weeks, alleging Bove told DOJ lawyers to ignore court orders that would impede Trump's mass deportation agenda. Former DOJ attorneys and federal and state judges have urged the Senate to oppose his nomination.
Schiff condemned Republicans on the committee for attempting to dismiss the whistleblowers' complaints.
"What will come out next about Bove?" said Schiff. "That's precisely the problem with this disaster of a nominee. And why Senate Republicans are rushing through his nomination. Before more disqualifying information can come out."
Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse (D-R.I.) emphasized that the fight to stop Bove's confirmation "isn't over, even when subservient Senate Republicans ignore another whistleblower and shove this character through their new-low, hide-the-ball Senate confirmation process and onto the bench."
Republicans can afford to lose only three votes for Bove and still confirm him with a tie-breaker vote from Vice President JD Vance. Sens. Susan Collins (R-Maine) and Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska) are expected to oppose him.
Josh Sorbe, a spokesperson for Sen. Dick Durbin (D-Ill.), the Judiciary Committee's ranking member, said the latest complaint is "another damning indictment of a man who should never be a federal judge."
"Another whistleblower has come forward with evidence that raises serious concerns with Emil Bove's misconduct," said Sorbe. "Senate Republicans will bear full responsibility for the consequences if they rubber stamp Mr. Bove's nomination."
"Our labor organization has every intention to oppose this merger," said SMART-TD, America's largest railroad operating union.
Major unions on Tuesday slammed plans for an $85 billion merger between railway giants Norfolk Southern and Union Pacific.
As The New York Times reported, the proposed merger would have the benefit of creating the first rail network in the U.S. that would span from coast to coast and would run through 43 different states by linking Norfolk Southern's eastern railroads with Union Pacific's western rail network.
On the downside, however, it would represent a massive consolidation of the American rail industry by giving one corporation control of roughly 40% of rail freight throughout the U.S., and it was immediately panned by labor leaders as bad for railway workers.
SMART Transportation Division (SMART-TD), America's largest railroad operating union, said that "our labor organization has every intention to oppose this merger when it comes before the Surface Transportation Board for approval."
The union specified multiple concerns about the deal, including what it described as Union Pacific's "troubling safety record" under its current management.
"Publicly available data from recent years reveals [Union Pacific] leads the industry in accidents, incidents, injuries, and fatalities," the union said. "This trend reflects a broader corporate culture that, in our view, prioritizes aggressive operating ratios over worker and public safety."
SMART-TD also criticized Union Pacific for having "a pattern of disengagement and hostility" toward labor relations, while also expressing concerns that Norfolk Southern, which it describes as having "more progressive labor and operation policies," could adopt Union Pacific's tactics under a merger.
The Brotherhood of Railroad Signalmen (BRS) raised similar concerns about worker safety and laid out a list of demands that would have to be met before it would give the merger its blessing. Namely, the union said that "safety standards must be strengthened not sidelined, in the name of efficiency," and that "signal staffing must not be cut further." BRS also demanded "direct labor consultation during all phases of integration" and "enforceable safety guarantees and transparency in operational changes."
Just 32% of respondents—including only 8% of Democrats—said they backed Israel in a new Gallup poll.
As the Palestinian death toll from Israel's obliteration of Gaza officially topped 60,000—likely a significant undercount—a Gallup poll released Tuesday revealed that U.S. public support for Israel's war on the Palestinian enclave plummeted to an all-time low, even before the widespread publication of horrifying images of Gazan children dying of starvation.
According to the Gallup survey of 1,002 U.S. adults conducted between July 7-21, 32% of overall respondents said they approve of Israel's war on Gaza launched in response to the October 7, 2023 Hamas-led attack. That's down from 42% in September 2024 and 50% in October 2023.
Conversely, 60% of overall respondents now disapprove of Israel's war, which is the subject of an ongoing International Court of Justice genocide case filed by South Africa. That's up from 48% disapproval last September and 45% in October 2023.
Those polled were sharply divided along partisan lines. Republican respondents were the only group whose support for Israel's war increased, with 71% approving in the new poll, up from 66% in September 2024 and matching the 71% approval rating in October 2023.f
Among Independents, only 25% said they approved of the war, down from 41% in September 2024 and 47% in October 2023.
Democratic approval of Israel's war dipped into the single digits for the first time, with just 8% supporting the action. That's a precipitous plunge from Democrats' 24% approval in September 2024 and 36% in October 2023.
For the first time in Gallup's survey, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's overall approval among Americans dipped into negative territory, with 52% of respondents viewing him unfavorably. Just 29% of respondents said they had a favorable view of Netanyahu, who is wanted by the International Criminal Court for alleged crimes against humanity and war crimes in Gaza including murder and forced starvation.
The new Gallup poll was published on the same day that the Gaza Health Ministry said the death toll in the Palestinian enclave topped 60,000 amid relentless Israeli bombing, daily attacks on aid-seekers, and a worsening starvation crisis. Most of those killed have been women and children. The ministry said at least 147 Palestinians—88 of them children—have died of severe malnutrition since October 2023.
At least 145,870 Palestinians have also been wounded, and approximately 14,000 others are missing and presumed dead and buried beneath rubble.
Multiple peer-reviewed studies in the esteemed British medical journal The Lancet have concluded that Gaza Health Ministry casualty figures are likely a vast undercount.
A separate poll of New York City Democratic primary voters published Tuesday by Data for Progress and the Institute for Middle East Understanding Policy Project for Semafor found that 78% believe Israel is committing genocide in Gaza, 79% want the U.S. to restrict arms transfers to Israel, and 63% say that the next mayor of New York City should enforce the ICC warrant for Netanyahu's arrest.
The poll revealed that a +42-point net favorability rating for New York City Democratic mayoral nominee and Palestine defender Zohran Mamdani, -12-point net favorability for Independent challenger Andrew Cuomo, and -62-point net favorability for Eric Adams, who is also running independently.