Milk it...

Never has such a piece of work been talked so irrelevantly without citing its influences. In the time I have been waffling about cheese this and cheese that and cheese the other. I have rarely mentioned the said milk. But what wonderful magical animal excretes pure cheese?

Exactly, that collective "none" has put shame onto my neglect of the raw materials. The essence, the original, in the beginning there was the word. But what of milk?

There is a fear of milk. We are always waiting for it to die. We are wary as every time we grab milk from the fridge the first thing we do it sheepishly whiff the opened jug. The relief on our faces it has lived another day. We show no trust to the milk we buy from the supermarkets and correctly so. Why does it go bad several days before if says on the label? Is it the collective fridges throughout the country are of a poor quality? No it is the milk that is of a poor quality.

This man bes a Mr Louis Pasteur the pioneer of milk as we know it today... pasteurised. People run and hide under their bed when they are confronted with raw milk. But run no longer. The reason the pasteurised milk is going bad is because its TVC (Total viable count, ie what bacteria is in the milk) is of a high level. Raw milk has been proven to be kept more hygienic as the producers of pasteurised milk think once it is pasteurised it is infallible and can be abused. Most counts pushing the legel limit of 100000, but raw milk counts could be closer to this....

So lets up rise. This cleaner milk is deemed unsuitable for human consumption?! Do we need to be wrapped up so, should we not have free choice, without having to travel many a mile to find some raw milk by a farmers gate? Let us drink in celebration of the milk....

"Milk is for babies. When you grow up you have to drink beer. "

Not so Mr Schwarzenegger, why limit ourselves. Milk should negotiate its way towards alcohol. Head to The Korova Milk Bar. Sit on the nearest naked lady and pour yourself a cold one from her nipple. Drink the milk with knives in it, it will sharpen you up as...

"No animal ever invented anything so bad as drunkenness--or so good as drink"

Jackass

When you think of things of great wealth one of the last things you would think off would be a donkey. Many a time as I strode through the pouring rain to make it through to a one on one with the goalkeeper only to have my boot catch the muddy turf and fall flat on my face. DONKEY! DONKEY! DONKEY! they would chant as I lay there, the mud hiding the tears on my cheeks. It hard to imagine that they are making a reference to, maybe the fact that the donkey was once responsible for the wealth of the Egyptians due to it being the means for transport of precious metals carried from Africa by donkeys? Or maybe it was them parodying my twisting silky dribbling referring to the donkeys carrying silk along the 'Silk Road' from Pacific Ocean to the Mediterranean, but I feel they were using it in the vain of the derogatory slant it has become. But fear not donkey lovers as the worth of donkeys is again to rise....

DONKEY CHEESE

It has taken the throne as the worlds most expensive cheese. I have touched on this before in the usual roundabout way here, but there is a new king in town and that king is 'Pule'. Pule comes from the Serbian word for 'foal'. Cue donkey fact....In the desert environment a donkey is able to hear the call of another donkey 60 miles away, they have far larger ears than horses.

But back to the cheese... This donkeys cheese comes in at a whopping £1000/kg. But whats so special about these donkeys I hear you say? Nothing really it is just that there is a terrible yield from donkey milk due to the very low percentage of fat and protein available. No wonder the coachman in Pinochio set up Pleasure Island. But surely everyone is a winner, you get to play pool, drink, smoke, fight, gamble and then when you have made enough of a 'jackass' of yourself you turn into a donkey and produce some of the most expensive cheese in the world. This is basically a metaphor for my life....

Another reason for why the cheese may cost so much is the danger that surrounds the milking of the donkeys. Due to there cautious and untrusting nature they are forever bucking their legs and this would be hazardous during milking as they would be forever kicking off their milking clusters. This could lead too many pathogens such as escherichia coli and salmonella getting into the milk through fecal contamination. ie Pony crap....

Death By Cheese....

"McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed

There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head"

Financial crisis isn't the only thing that Ireland has in common with the Greeks, they also have some exceptional mythology. An underrated mythology if you will. Its got everything a good myth needs. Deceit, seductive ladies, death, moider! Like a good Saturday night in Galway.

Mr Shane MacGowan references an old tale of woe for Cú Chulainn. Trouble began for poor Cu Chulainn before he was even born. His mother was called Deichtineand she was the daughter of the King of Ulster. She was out with her father one night in search of a wondrous flock of beautiful birds. A snowstorm ensues and they take refuse at a near by house. The lady of the house goes into labour that evening and Deichtineand helps to birth that child and just like a 50s horror film there is a crash of lightening that preempts a mare in the stables giving birth to 2 colts.

A joyous evening for everyone, as the storm rages on outside. As dawn was breaking and everyone resurfacing with megalithic hangovers only for the parents of the new born to have disappeared so Deichtineand mothered that child unfortunelty only for the child to fall sick and die.

The god Lug appears to her and tells her he was their host that night, and that he has put his child in her womb, who is to be called Sétanta. Her pregnancy is a scandal as she is betrothed to Sulatam mac Róich, and the Ulstermen suspect Conchobar of being the father, so she aborts the child and goes to her husband's bed "virgin-whole". She then conceives a son whom she names Sétanta. Later changes his name after killing a dog. Jeremy Kyle eat your heart out.

And what a stunner he was not only was he a head turner his beauty could melt snow. I'm sure he would have had no problems with the ladies. He could walk up to the tallest and blondest girl, he would say....

It is the Greek mythology though that ties this all into cheese this very eve. Queen Maeve of Connaught meet an untimely demise at the hands of some hard curd. She was slain by her own nephew. She was bathing in the waters of Lough Ree when after hours of practice killed her by firing Tanag though a sling shot. Tanag being a hard pressed cheese. What a way to go.

Unfortunately many of the indigenous cheeses from Ireland have been lost over time. They had a Fraisce Grotha which translates as compression of curds. This would have been a fresh cheese. There are others to many a few Millsen, Gruth, That and Mulchan. But what they really strived at was butter, which would be buried in the bogs. Whether this was to preserve or to make it rancid is unclear.


Looks good. As traditional as an Irish wedding or a horse riding thorough a council estate....