A Merry Band of Bloggers

My sister lives in Colorado, where the sun always shines and the air is always fresh and the temperature is always just right. So when she visited recently and stepped out of her car, she about fell into a small heap in our driveway because breathing humid Missouri summer air is not for the faint of heart.

Or the faint of hair.

So let's hear it for all the food bloggers and dietitians who willingly volunteered to visit the dairy on a hot, humid Saturday morning, knowing full well what it would do to their hair. I mean, hearts. I mean, heat. It was hot.

Ok. C'mon, guys. Just clap.



(And while you're at it, please give a gentle, quiet "Hooray!" -- we don't want to startle them after all -- for the cows, who start feeling heat stress in about January and don't get a break from it until the following December. Well, not quite. But let's just say they love water misters and fans in the summer as much as kids love a good water park. More maybe.)

Thanks to our friends at Midwest Dairy,  we were able to host these brave blogging souls on a warm day in June, giving them a chance to see where their food comes from up close and personal. Like, so personal a calf could suck on their fingers personal. (Sorry for my white legs. My spiritual gift is getting sunburned without tanning. Clearly.)



Our merry band of bloggers got to see baby calves, only a couple of hours old, and hear from my farmer how we care for the littlest animals on the farm. Between the calves and our multitude of kittens, everybody would have been fine being done at that point.

BUT WE PERSEVERED.

And by that I mean that we kindly nudged them on to meet some of the older heifers and the mama cows who took time out of their lunch to pose for photographs.

#2780 showing off her best side.

(Let's face it: Every girl has a best side.)

 

We rounded out the tour with a trip through the commodity shed to see what our cows eat, explain how our nutritionist tweaks the ration, talk about what silage is and discover why it's an important part of a cow's diet.

After that, we headed back to the shop to guzzle a bathtub full of water (Did you know that's about how much water a cow drinks in a day? Almost 35 gallons! And here you thought your eight glasses of water were good . . . ) and enjoy a meal together, surrounded by silage choppers and wrenches and flies because that's what life is like on a real dairy.

Lauren Lane, one of our favorite food bloggers, even made us brownies for dessert, and I'm not saying that I maybe basically skipped lunch and just went straight for the chocolate, but I CAN say that there was one extra pulled pork wrap left over because, well, I maybe basically skipped lunch and just went straight for the chocolate.

Side note: Brownies taste even more fudgy when enjoyed with milk. And because milk is healthy and so wonderfully good for you, you can even have a second brownie if you want. They basically balance each other out.

This is why you need farmers in your life. We can be helpful when you're trying to make important life choices like this. 

 

We're thankful for our social media influencer friends -- whether they're Instagrammers or bloggers or Facebookers or all of the above -- not just because they took time to come to the farm and see how their food is made, but because as farmers, we're busy . . . you know . . . FARMING. And that means we don't always have a lot of free time to chat with every person in the grocery store or on the street about why dairy is such an affordable, healthy food option.

But people like Cara of Streetsmart Nutrition and Lauren of Lauren Lane Culinarian do. They have the gift of story telling, photography, research and knowing their followers so that they can share information with them in a helpful and winsome way.

 So when a Lauren or a Cara or a Steph of KC Cheeses or Shanna from Wellness for the Win want to know or be reminded of see for themselves where their food comes from, and when, seeing how we care for our animals and land and each other, they believe as strongly as we do about milk and butter and cream and eggs, they help us tell our story in really fun ways.

And we are -- and remain -- grateful for that.


Photos courtesy Wheat Photography

baked egg baguettes

 

I have long contended that being pregnant over Thanksgiving and Christmas is just mean. You go to the doctor's office for your appointment -- having enjoyed all manner of mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie and Christmas cookies and hot chocolate -- and then the nurse asks you to step on the scale. 

Rude. 

At my doctor's office, there's a magical button on the scale that you can push if you want to see what your weight is. Otherwise, the nurse has a readout that you never have to see . . . if in fact you ate an entire batch of snickerdoodles the week before and just don't want to know because the truth is too painful. 

 

And it is almost always too painful. 

I don't suppose loving bread has anything to do with my fear of the dreaded doctor's office scale. Or my doctor's kind yet ominous threat: "Let's not be eating entire pans of brownies for the rest of this pregnancy, ok? We're just not going to do that." 

Killjoy. 

So for the rest of you who can eat bread and bacon and cheese with reckless abandon, eat an egg baguette for me, would you? Please? 

Or even two if you're feeling charitable? One for the baby, you know.

Beat the eggs, add the cream, stir in the gruyere, slice the baguettes, sprinkle on the bacon, bake them, and then -- better yet -- YOU gain the weight from eating eight of them instead of me. 

Do we have ourselves a deal? I'll just be over here . . . standing on a scale . . . slightly horrified.

Or maybe I'll go ahead and eat one anyway. Not for me, of course. Baby's the one who's hungry.

Yeah.

Baby.

Baked Egg Boats (recipe from Spoon Fork Bacon)

4 demi sourdough baguettes

5 eggs

1/3 cup heavy cream

4 ounces pancetta, finely chopped and fried until crisp

3 ounces gruyere cheese, grated

2 green onions, thinly sliced
salt and pepper to taste


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Cut a deep “V” through the tops of each baguette until about a 1/2 inch to the bottom. Partially unstuff the baguettes. Set aside.
3. Place the eggs and cream into a mixing bowl and lightly beat together. Whisk in the remaining ingredients and lightly season with salt and pepper.
4. Divide and pour the mixture into each baguette boat and place onto a baking sheet.
5. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown, puffed and set in the center. Season with salt and pepper.
6. Allow to cool for about 5 minutes, cut and serve.

it's always been moo (or why you should give your valentine the gift of raclette aka melted cheese)

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. You COULD be like every other person out there and buy a giant heart-shaped balloon. Or a $4 card that will get thrown away. Or chocolate that will just make you feel gross after eating 36 pieces of it. 

Or you COULD enjoy a night of raclette with your special someone . . . or a group of single friends . . . or just yourself. 

Raclette isn't picky. Raclette loves everyone. 

 

Raclette is essentially a Swiss cheese that's known for melting beautifully. In the Alps -- and even in some nicer restaurants in places like New York and Chicago -- entire wheels of cheese are melted and then scraped onto mounds of potatoes and meat, pickles and veggies. 

Let's take a moment to imagine all that melty dairy goodness on your plate.

Ahhhh. 

If, though, your budget doesn't allow you to hop a flight overseas,  you can enjoy raclette at home on Valentine's Day, Christmas Day (as pictured above . . . and below), Tuesday, Saturday, ok, everyday. 

Because my farmer loves meat and vegetables, I gave him a raclette grill for Christmas. (Thank you, Jeff Bezos and Amazon.) It's an eight-person tabletop grill with trays for melting cheese underneath. He's smitten. 

Sometimes with me, but mostly just with raclette. 

Raclette is a perfect dinner party meal, but it's also a lovely meal for two. Because each person is concocting his own series of little meals on the grill, it lends itself to a we're-not-rushing, pour-another-glass-of-wine, enjoy-the-dinner-conversation feel.

It works well for the hostess too, who can prep everything in advance and then set it on the table for guests to dish up as they choose. So far, I've served marinated chicken, shrimp, and beef. I also boil small potatoes and cut them up so that they cook a little faster on the grill. Mushrooms, corn, zucchini, peppers, onions -- you name the veggie and it works for raclette. 

Traditional raclette also usually includes some charcuterie like proscuitto or ham, as well as cornichons. Add some herbs to the mix, set out some olive oil for the grill, and slice up some good melting cheese (Swiss and gruyere work well if you don't have raclette in your area). Cook up your meat and veggies, lay them on some proscuitto, pour your melted cheese over the top, and roll it up like a taco. Or cook some veggies, cover in melted cheese, and scoop up with a cornichon.

Cut up and butter some French bread for toasting on the grill, make a large salad, open a bottle of a dry red wine, and your Valentine will swear off giant teddy bears and red roses forever. 

How can Hallmark compete with you and cheese? Because when it comes to raclette, you'll have him saying, "I'm udderly head over hooves for you" before he puts his second round of veggies on the grill! 

Cheesy, I know. 

(Should I stop now? 

Ok, I'll stop now. 

But seriously, raclette for Valentine's Day! Flowers are so overrated.) 

eggplant parmigiana | dairy

One of these days, November is actually going to get semi-cold. And when that happens, I'm going to indulge in comfort food and not feel the least bit bad about it. For now, we're eating eggplant parmigiana, which is a close second.

But just as soon as there's frost on the ground . . . 

Mashed potatoes? I'm in. 

Chicken pot pie? Sign me up. 

Chicken tettrazini? I'm so there. 

      

When I lived in St. Louis, I'd treat myself to one of those KFC Famous Bowls of deliciousness now then, the one with mashed potatoes and fried chicken and corn. I mean, I always got gut rot afterward, but just as soon as it's freezing outside, I'm recreating that bad boy. 

In the meantime, how about some eggplant parmigiana? That's healthy-ish, right? It's filled with cheese (yay, dairy!) and eggs and veggies. Ok, so it's at least better for you than the KFC Bowl of Unnecessary Calories. 

Look at all that cheese. 

Mozzarella. 

Parmesan. 

Provolone. 

It's almost better than my mom's famous nachos: Doritos covered in cheddar and pepper jack! 

Almost. 

Speaking of cheese, we interrupt this recipe to bring you Dorothy Lynch, dairy champion.  

Well, she's at least a relative to good old DL anyway.

Basically any slightly reddish, brownish cow is a Dorothy Lynch in my world. 

Also, please tell me you knew that was a salad dressing?

The days of mashed potatoes and pasta are coming. But until then, we're slicing up the eggplant, chopping up the salad, tipping our hats to Dorothy Lynch and enjoying these golden days of November.

But don't think we don't see you, KFC Bowls.

We do.

Boy, do we.

Eggplant Parmigiana

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 3 medium yellow onions, sliced
• 6 cloves garlic
• 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 3 28-oz. cans plum tomatoes
• 2 medium eggplant, cut 1/2-inch thick
• 1/2 cup flour
• 5 eggs
• 3 tablespoons milk
• 4 cups Italian breadcrumbs
• 1 tablespoon oregon
• 1 tablespoon thyme
• 1 1/2 lbs. mozzarella cheese
• 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
• 1 lb. provolone cheese
• 1 tablespoon sugar

Cooking Directions

1. Sauce: Heat olive oil. Add onion, garlic, salt and red pepper flakes. Cook 3-5 minutes. Add sugar and tomatoes. Cook 15 minutes.
2. Eggplant: Arrange in a single layer on baking sheets. Sprinkle both sides with salt. Sit 1 hour. Rinse with cold water. Pat dry.
3. Heat oil. Fry eggplant. Drain on paper towel. Lightly salt.
4. Layer sauce, eggplant and cheese.
5. Bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes.

paula teen's green tomato chutney

Our garden wasn't much of a garden last year. The rain washed out half the stuff I planted and the leaves on most of the other plants were yellow from . . . you guessed it . . . too much rain.

We had a few tomatoes, some sad-looking corn, a lot of sweet potatoes, a handful of zucchini and about four cucumbers. 

And a lot of grass. 

As we said last summer, "It'll be better next year."

Riiiiight. 

So before the bugs got the tomatoes or the rain washed them away in yet another toad strangler, I whipped up a batch of Paula Deen's green tomato chutney. 

 

Because Missouri is the farthest South I've ever lived, I feel like green tomatoes should be a thing, but frying sort of terrifies me so this is the closest I get. 

Ok, so it wasn't close at all. 

This chutney pairs well with meat, which comes in handy because between our families raising cows and chickens and hogs, we're pretty much set in the meat department around here. 

You can also scoop it up on biscuits or crackers, and pour yourself a glass of wine for a little mid-afternoon snack or pre-supper appetizer. 

Or mid-morning snack, I guess, if it's a really rough day.

It also goes pretty dang well with squash or sweet potatoes, and we love us some sweet potatoes. My farmer usually grows enough to get us through the winter. Just pop a couple of those bad boys in the steamer while you make supper, slather on some chutney and pat your belly in satisfaction. 

Or you can pat your baby. Babies are usually cuter than bellies anyway. Although to be fair, baby bellies are even cuter than regular bellies. 

I'm betting this would even taste pretty good on grilled cheese. And I'm not just saying that because my husband's a dairy farmer. 

But seriously . . . who doesn't love grilled cheese? 

The days are getting longer. The weather will eventually get warmer. Gardeners will start to plan their gardens. And if you're one of them, add an extra tomato plant or two so you can nab the green tomatoes for this chutney. Your squash . . . and even your sandwiches . . . will thank you.