Fresh Milk

 Since we first bought our little block, even before we'd moved here, one of our big goals was to have a housecow.

Milking a cow and making our own dairy products would reduce our weekly grocery bill by about a quarter, so it was always a huge part of the plan.

Brownie at four weeks old.

I'd hoped to milk my Dexters when I got them, I knew they were at least a year away from breeding, and most of a year after that before they were able to be milked so it was never a short term thing.  For all my hard work trying to tame them though, they never got to be friendly enough that it was going to be an option with the facilities I had available.

I hand-raised Brownie from four weeks old, she's a lovely jersey fresian cross.  I always planned to milk her and made a point of staying friendly enough to be able to pat her and have both of us comfortable around each other.

Two weeks ago, she had her calf.  He's been nick-named "Handsome".  He's just lovely with a chocolately brown colour to his coat and the big soft jersey eyes and long eyelashes.

Handsome at a couple of days old.

He seems to be just as friendly as his Mum too.  We never take anything for granted where he's concerned - I've heard too many stories of people being mauled by their housecows for getting between them and their calves, but he's come up to me at the gate and she's been quite unconcerned about us patting him and now that I'm milking her, he quite often comes around the side with me and curls up where she can see him.  When he's not coming up to me to see what I'm doing that is.

I first tried milking her about three days after he was born.  She kicked the bucket and I think it spooked her a little.  I couldn't get near her the next day and the day after that, her behaviour was quite hostile - ears flat and throwing her head around.

Hubby built a rough temporary bail to my specifications and I tried to entice her in with some hay.  We're very dry this year and her paddock, while it still has plenty of grass in it, it's mostly brown and dry.  The sneaky girl was going up the rough old sheep race next to the bail and eating it through the railings.  So I put a load further up the race and she walked in quite calmly.  I blocked her in with a length of wood and tied her leg loosely with a bungy cord.  I couldn't fit the bucket under her because of the railings, so after washing her teats, I tipped out the remainder of the water from the coffee mug I'd carried it out in and milked into that through the railings and tipped it into the buckets.

We didn't last long before she'd had enough and wanted out.  I got about 400ml of colostrum.  But it was a start at a time when I was worried that it wasn't going to happen.  My family were a bit disturbed by the very yellow cream and slightly pink tinge to the milk part.

I found some recipes for colostrum pudding, also known as Beestings pudding and Abrystir - an Icelandic dish.  But I didn't end up making them.  I never quite got the quantity to try it.  But I did make a cheese sauce with the colostrum which went down a treat with my son.

Since then, I've cut a board out of that part of the race and it's working.  She decided she didn't like the wood blocking her in and backed out rather quickly before I got it all the way across one day - nearly crushing my hand between this piece of 4 x 2 and the top railing.  The next day, every time I picked up the wood, she'd back out and eyeball me until I put it down.  Then she'd walk back in, I picked it up again and she backed out again.  So I milked her without the leg tie or wood.

Brownie in the race.

Brownie now.

It was the most successful milking I'd had so far.  So we came to an agreement, I wouldn't use it and she gave me no reason to need it.  I have had her knock the bucket over and on one occasion lift her foot and put it squarely in the bucket, but since then, she makes it clear that she will be moving before she actually moves.  She gives me enough time to shift the bucket, even lifting her foot quite slowly.

About a litre of milk in the bucket.

My best milking this week has been two litres.  From all accounts, that's quite good given that I'm sharing her with her calf and he's only two weeks old.

Now she comes and pointedly looks over the gate to see if I'm coming out yet with her hay.

I have bought a milking machine.  It is a very old piece of equipment and Dad is working on getting it going.  We have parts at the platers to be replated, a new motor and I'm saving madly for a test bucket and new hoses and cup liners.  We are still planning a milking shed to run it in too.  I'm hoping I'm not milking by hand for too much longer, but I'm getting used to it.

Milk heating to pasteurise.

Hubby is a little paranoid about raw milk, so I'm pasteurising it.  It's actually a really simple process.  Heat the milk in the top of a double boiler to 72 degrees Celsius, keep it there for 30 seconds and then cool it to 4 degrees C.  The double boiler is really important - I tried it without one night and scorched the bottom, even though it didn't go over temperature, it still scorched a little.

I'm skimming the cream and making butter with it.  Butter is also extremely easy.  Whip up the cream until it separates into butter and buttermilk.  Press out the rest of the buttermilk, wash the butter and you're done.  I've been mixing it up with rice bran oil to make it spreadable without changing the taste too much.

When I've built up a big enough store of spreadable butter, I'll move on to ice cream.

The family are getting used to our own milk and butter.  I think they're all proud that we're doing it, or rather that I'm doing it and they're all cheering me on.  Hubby needs to learn before I go away for a week at Easter though.