How I went to dinner and came home with a cow

I'm not exactly sure how it happened. I got all dressed up to go to dinner, an al fresco barbeque at Rebecca's, and before the day is over I milked a sheep, witnessed a magical - if ever so mildly yucky - moment of piglets being born – the piglets were cute and pink and spotted and got big floppy ears, but before all that they were wet and mucous-y and bloody and stuff. Eh.

And to top it all off properly, we came home with a cow. Ok, not a whole cow. Honestly. We just became a part owner of one. And now we get two gallons of her milk weekly - unpasteurized, non-homogenized, raw milk, just the way the gods intended.

What to do with raw milk? The possibilities are endless. I'm thinking homemade butter, crème fraiche, clotted cream, et cetera et cetera. I'll try it all, I think, and will tell you all about it. Meanwhile, I'll just introduce you to Nutmeg, our gorgeous Normande cow in the picture above. And you can read about Bob and Jean of Deep Roots Ranch who graciously allowed us to co-own Nutmeg. You can also check out our friend Rebecca's blog, whose sheep farm and budding Basque-style sheep-cheese making operation is the genesis of all this. When her cheese making is fully underway I'll tell you more about it, I promise.

Right, and you can also read all about cow sharing and how to get your own supply of real milk. And now that you're done with the Harry Potter book you might even have time to re-read that Michael Pollan's Op-Ed piece in the NYT about the very important Farm Food Bill that will affect us all. (Thanks to Diane who reminded me of this important issue recently.)

Now back to my usual frivolity. With my city girl cred receding rapidly, I came home and decided to order some shoes. And what did I buy? A pair of cute rainboots from Tar-jay so next time I go visit Nutmeg and the piggies and the sheeps I would have something to wear. Oy.

I. Need. Help.

P.S. If you're going to Blogher, be sure to say hi and help me in person.
P.P.S. If you've got a great clotted cream recipe, that'll be a great help too. My first clotted cream attempted failed rather miserably. Recipe, anyone?

P.P.P.S. More pictures of Nutmeg and the farm where she lives....

Nutmeg at sunset, with Bob and his son Phil trying to coax her back to the barn.

Here's the farm where she lives.