Rip It Out - Lessons in Radical DIY

If there was a single inspiration for starting this blog, it would be 85-year old Greta Traub and her sewing classes at the Henry Street Settlement. No, I haven't taken a class there, and don't imagine I ever will, but there was an article about her classes in the New York Times in January. Simply put, Greta Traub is real DIYer of the best kind. She's been teaching at Henry Street for 42 years, but when the funding for her classes were cut late last year, she was told that she could keep teaching, as a volunteer. "I said ‘no thank you,’" she recalled. And, she thought, “I can always find another job.”" Her students wrote letters, appealed to their local electeds, and her job was reinstated. But what I love most about Greta is that she epitomizes the fiercest Home Ec teachers out there. Her three favorite words, according to the NY Times, are "Rip it out!" as in “...if you don’t rip it out, don’t say you did it at Henry Street,” she says. “Because it’s my name you’re besmirching.”

Suffice it to say, I am in awe of Ms. Traub's 40+ year work in her community. Forging ahead with a sloppy job has always been my approach, but Sadie and I take on more projects together, making things we need that I hope will last, I've been working hard at following Ms. Traub's advice.

Mozzarella

Judith and I made mozzarella on Sunday - inspired by a fabulous new cookbook - The Home Creamery by Kathy Farrell-Kingsley. I should point out that making dairy products definitely does not qualify as even remotely recesionista. A few weeks ago, we made 2 cups of butter - at approximately twice the cost of organic butter. Suffice it to say, our labor costs were not covered. Nor did we account for the labor of our two kids who contributed greatly by rolling the Mason jar back and forth to get start the separation process.

But costs alone were not enough to end our dairy-making ventures. I have long thought a backyard goat was just what I needed, and I've even been tempted by the possibility of a dwarf cow, although my partner (with a MA in grasslands management, aka feeding cows) thinks they are some weird internet scam. So until I get my own backyard herd, I will have to feed my dairy appetite with turning expensive milk into more expensive dairy products.

I'm happy to report that the mozzarella adventure was well worth it. We started with all the necessary ingredients and supplies from the New England Cheese Making Supply Company. http://www.cheesemaking.com/ Yes, even the checker at Trader Joe's knew about Rikki Carrol from Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable Miracle. Our first effort went great, but we needed more guidance on how exactly one stretches curds, so luckily we had November's Gourmet Magazine whcih had some great photos of how to stretch. Basically, imagine you are turning a swim cap inside out and then stretching as you pull it over your head. Do this about 15 times, and you have mozzarella. Of course, Gourmet's method supposedly takes 6 hours, and Rikki's only 30 minutes. We stuck with the 30 minute approach, and it took about an hour. The kids made the mozzarella balls, dropping the stretched curds into ice water to make all kinds of fun shapes, and Sadie took some homemade string cheese in her lunch this morning. Judith and her kids made fried mozzarella balls (roll the balls in egg, then panko bread crumbs, then egg, then bread crumbs, and then fry). She says they were devoured.

So, we've got chevre cultures in the freezer, and thinking we will try that next. I'm just imagining tomato season - just 5 months away - and Insalata Caprese.

Welcome to Communal Kitchen

Even when there isn't a recession knocking at the door, communally is the best way to cook. Why cook for one when you can cook for twelve, and why work alone when you can have help. My favorite foods are by their very nature communal - soups, breads, cookies - hard to cook for just one.

But more than making great meals, on the cheap, communal kitchens are always places of great friendships, and often real radicalism. While it's easy to think of our work in the kitchen as retro or reactionary, I prefer to imagine the great moments of women's radicalism, forged in kitchen collaborations. The Shaker kitchens were places of great invention and efficiency, after inventing the apple peeler, the Mount Lebanon Shakers supported themselves in part by selling canned applesauce. Certainly this vindicates my own current obsession with canning applesauce (only 20 quarts left in the garage with 7 months to go until the next apple season)!

In recent weeks, friends and I have been cooking up some fantastic survival schemes, a few worth sharing. So, this blog will spill forth, I hope, with tales of my own domestic revolutions, ideas forged with friends and family to make life more communal and more sustainable.