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DIY Soy Milk

DIY Soy Milk
May 19, 2013 By In dairy, diy, drink me, non-alcoholic

During my vegan yogurt experiments, I read a lot about making coconut, almond, and rice milks at home and sorted out my own preferred methods. (Key ingredient across the board? A nylon straining bag.) Now, whenever I find myself standing in front of those Tetra Pak boxed beverages at the grocery, I consider for a second if it’s worth it for me to DIY it at home; even in the chaos of an average week, it usually is.

The one experiment I’ve avoided is soy milk. Basically, I’ve come across headlines espousing the “evils of soy” just often enough to shy away from using it as one of my alternative milk ingredients. I had no nutritional research to back up this decision; rather, it was strictly a case of “Well, I haven’t read anything bad about almonds this week. Let’s just use those!”

Still, I have long been curious about making my own tofu or vegan cheese, so when I came across a bag of soybeans at the Asian market I love exploring, I decided to finally try out boiling up a batch of my own soy milk on the “all things in moderation” philosophy. (And once you start looking, I think there may be just as many articles espousing the “many benefits of soy!”…so, I can only encourage you to make your own judgment call.)

Early research on methods led me quickly to some stunning soy milk makers, an appliance I had never seen before but one that might interest high-volume producers of any type of alternative milk. In my house, a blender and an efficient hand straining method get the job done simply and quickly enough.

DIY Soy Milk: Before and after soaking the beans

DIY Soy Milk: Before and after soaking the beans

Similar to my experience with rice milk that didn’t taste like commercial rice milk, there were plenty of posts lamenting that DIY versions of soy milk just didn’t match what the family was used to from the store. I read a lot about how to avoid a bitter, beany-tasting soy milk (hot water when blending, cooking after straining), and picked up a tip to add a couple tablespoons of oats to the blender to make a creamer product. I didn’t remove all the skins before blending nor did I soak the beans in water fortified with baking soda, though these are also variations out there. Like many of these DIY projects, personal preferences will lead you to your own best practices.

When I first removed the lid off the blender carafe after pureeing the soaked raw beans, I worried over the smell–something about it had a character that had me flashing back to the days I spent oil panting in the ’90s. The milk will also have a raw, beany taste at this stage. (It reminded me of eating a pea or green bean seed right out of the garden.) However, after cooking, the milk will be rich and tasty. I ended up thinning it a bit to get the consistency I was after–an extra benefit to DIYing your own. When I do it again, I will take more care to source a certifiably organic, non-GMO bean.

DIY Soy Milk: Ready for blending

DIY Soy Milk: Ready for blending

If you’re concerned about wasting the pulp (often referred to as okara ), worry not! This byproduct has recipe applications all its own. The skin that can form on the milk when cooking (yuba) also has myriad culinary uses.

Do you make soy milk in some other fashion? Tips and tricks that you’ve picked up that will improve results? I hope you’ll share them in the comments!

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DIY Soy Milk

DIY Soy Milk

1 cup dried soybeans
4 cups water just off the boil (plus additional for thinning milk to desired consistency)
2 tablespoons old fashioned rolled oats
1/8 kosher salt
sweetener and/or flavorings such as vanilla or almond extract (optional)

Rinse soybeans, drain, and soak in a generous amount of filtered water overnight. Drain and rinse again, removing any floating loose skins. Drain well and transfer beans to blender.

Add oats and boiled water to beans and secure lid. Puree thoroughly, being cautious that lid remains tightly closed.

Strain puree through a nylon nut milk bag into a 4 qt. pot. (I also tried straining the milk through a cheese cloth-lined strainer, but this was much more difficult to manage in my experience.) Bring the milk up to a gentle simmer, skimming off any foam or skin that forms. Continue to cook, stirring regularly, for about 20 minutes. Add salt and any sweeteners or flavorings desired. Taste and adjust flavorings as needed.

Fresh soy milk can be enjoyed as a warm beverage. Otherwise, transfer it to a glass container with a lid and allow to cool. Refrigerate to store.

http://wonderlandkitchen.com/2013/05/diy-soy-milk/

DIY Kefir: The Champagne of Milk

DIY Kefir
March 21, 2013 By In breads & breakfast, dairy, diy, drink me, non-alcoholic

If you’re looking for a probiotic-loaded DIY dairy project that’s a little less involved than yogurt making, the cultured milk drink known as kefir (keh-FEER) just might be for you. For as wildly as yogurt has overtaken our supermarket shelves, not to mention how often Jamie Lee Curtis has regaled us with its health benefits through our televisions, I’m surprised in a way that kefir hasn’t staked more of claim alongside. Admittedly, this “slightly thinner than yogurt” beverage does have a tangy, somewhat sour and yeasty flavor that may not appeal to all palates, and it is sometimes called “the champagne of milk” due to its slight effervescence. Yet even with the sweeteners and other additives found in many of the commercial varieties sold here in the States, its availability is still relatively narrow (and often somewhat pricey). All the more reason to try your hand at making it yourself, controlling both the process and the ingredients.

If you have milk, a glass jar, a plastic or wooden spoon, and a strainer, you’re almost ready to make your first batch. You’ll also need a way to culture the milk into kefir, which can be done in a limited way using a previous batch of kefir containing active cultures or a freeze-dried powdered starter. But for endless culturing and a more extensive list of involved bacteria and yeasts, you’re going to need to acquire dairy kefir grains. While I have seen some people refer to this method as the “hard way,” I think that is more a reference to the need to keep actively feeding the grains and to the possible variabilities in the outcome. The active time required each day will actually only take a couple of minutes.

When I was first offered a share of grains by a woman in my neighborhood, the DIY-er in me jumped at the chance even before I knew much of anything about the fascinating fermentation process I was about to get immersed in. The grains—which can often be described as resembling gummy cauliflower florets, but which can also be much smaller—aren’t actually a grain of any type, but rather a mass of live bacteria and yeasts which, if well cared for, will continue to culture future kefir batches indefinitely.

And if the idea isn’t weird enough for you yet, it seems that no one really knows how the kefir grains came to be. While they will grow and multiply as they eat the lactose in the milk, no one has been able to generate a kefir grain independently, and some even consider them a gift from God. Their origin has been traced to the Caucasus Mountains, where the culturing process likely aided in the preservation of milk before the advent of refrigeration.

Kefir Grains

Sourcing Kefir Grains

Much like a sourdough starter or kombucha SCOBY, you can look for a local maker willing to share with you or purchase grains online. Grains that have been shipped may need to be reconstituted, but even active grains from a nearby source will likely need time to acclimate to a new environment and milk type. Being patient and embracing a period of experimentation at the beginning and any time there is a change in the process (i.e., milk type) will help you avoid frustration and disappointment. I fully confess to learning this lesson the hard way.

The Basics

Culturing kefir requires nothing more than placing the grains and milk in a glass container (leave plenty of headspace), covering it with a paper towel or coffee filter secured with a rubber band, and placing it somewhere out of drafts and sunlight, ideally between 68°F and 78°F. I find that a spot in a kitchen cupboard works well for this, as long as I don’t forget it’s in there.

Once the grains are active (follow package directions if reviving dehydrated grains), a basic formula of about one tablespoon worth of grains to two cups of milk fermented for about 24 hours is the standard process. Once the milk has cultured, the grains are strained out using a plastic (preferred) or stainless steel sieve (other metals can damage the grains or leech into the kefir, and should not be used at any point in the process) and the kefir can then be consumed or refrigerated. The grains are then fed fresh milk, and the process begins again. The grains do not need to be rinsed unless they become contaminated with foreign materials (aka try not to drop them on the kitchen floor).

Kefir: Process

A kitchen cupboard makes a good place to stash your culturing kefir. I like to stop, stir, and strain mine just when it’s starting to show small pockets of whey separation (right).

A kitchen cupboard makes a good place to stash your culturing kefir. I like to stop, stir, and strain mine just when it’s starting to show small pockets of whey separation (right).

Variables, Variables, Variables
(Or: Adjustments, Adjustments, Adjustments)

That being said, fermentation projects are perhaps more an art form than an exact science. The type of milk, the ratio of milk to grains (and the available surface area of the grains in use), and the culturing time and temperature can all impact the taste of the final product.

I found that it took a couple of batches for my grains to start producing a consistent result once I got them home. After a batch or two of adjustment, I wanted to get a firmer handle on the process, so I left the milk to culture about 12 hours overnight, and then began to stir the grains around every few hours and taste the milk using a clean spoon. In this way, I was better able to pinpoint when my milk had thickened and achieved a taste that was agreeable to me.

Once you are comfortable with this part of the process, there are still myriad variations to explore: adding sweeteners and/or fruit before consuming, secondary fermentation options (with or without added flavorings), or even the creation of things such as kefir cheese. Need a buttermilk substitute when baking? Your kefir will be there. You can also use dairy kefir grains to ferment non-animal milks such as soy or coconut, but the grains will need to be refreshed in animal milk every few batches to maintain their health. Those looking for a truly vegan option may wish to explore what’s possible using water kefir grains instead.

Care and Feeding

Despite the implied upkeep, you don’t need to take your grains on vacation with you. They can be stored in fresh milk in the refrigerator for a week or two, or can be rinsed and dried completely and then stored in the refrigerator for a longer period. I have not yet had to store my grains for more than a few days, but you can read more about recommended methods here.

DIY Kefir

The Verdict

Especially if there are not many people in your home who are interested in a morning smoothie fortified with kefir or an afternoon snack of kefir and cookies, I can see that daily production could become overwhelming. If kefir will only be a very occasional treat in your kitchen, the powdered starter might make more sense. Still, learning about these amazing little balls of culturing action was so interesting to me, I would definitely recommend it as something any DIY enthusiast should at least give a try. Apparently you can even eat them, though I haven’t been that brave just yet. And I’m in no way qualified to speak to the many health benefits ascribed to kefir consumption, but there is plenty of interesting reading out there for those who would like to dig in deeper.

Ready to fall down this rabbit hole? You might start here and here.

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This post was created for my “DIY vs. Buy” column on Serious Eats.

DIY Rice Milk

DIY Rice Milk
December 16, 2012 By In dairy, diy, drink me, non-alcoholic

When my DIY column over at Serious Eats was still just an idea, my soon-to-be editor encouraged me to go exploring. Sure, homemade soups and baked goods are generally tastier than their store-bought cousins, but what about the stuff it might not occur to many home cooks to make from scratch? As a result, I now find myself wandering the aisles of my local grocery store and pausing to wonder: Hey, could I make that?

Obviously, I’m not alone in this instinct: the internet is filled with inventive cooks trying to hack all kinds of products. Some are motivated by health issues, others by political or environmental concerns. Generally it’s a mashup of all of the above. I enjoy the process, so I make what I can and still buy (without guilt) what I don’t have the time, energy, or ability to produce. And while I can’t walk things all the way back to growing my own soybeans or pasturing a cow on my city lot, it’s been excitingly educational to see how far I can get. Case in point: after the post on DIY-ing Greek yogurt, I had a reader request a non-dairy version of the same treat. I thought I’d get to work on that one this week, but once I started thinking about how I would approach it, I decided I might as well begin by making some non-dairy milks. (Also, I just got a real blender that needed to earn its counter space.)

Of all the many milk alternatives out there, I don’t think I’ll be using rice milk to make yogurt, but this does seem like the one with the most financial bang for the DIY effort. Here’s what I learned:

Soaked vs Leftover vs Over Cooked: If my internet research can be trusted, the most popular way to make rice milk at home seems to be to boil the grains into oblivion with many times the amount of water you would normally use. I’m the odd woman out here because I found this milk to have an unpleasant mouth feel, gummy and almost slimy, even when diluted to match the consistency of the commercial version. (I used a plain version of Rice Dream as my control.) I also tried cooking a 1/2-cup of rice traditionally and then blitzing that in the blender with cold water and straining. That was closer to what I was going for, but still not quite it.

However, uncooked grains soaked overnight and then blended and strained (as if I was making a batch of horchata) got things very close—much lighter and brighter on the tongue. There was something a bit “raw” about the taste that bothered me just slightly, and this version of the milk separated more easily (quickly corrected with a firm shake), but soaking seemed the best method for getting a thin, drinkable “milk” similar to what’s sold in the Tetra Pak at the store. The thicker versions might make for better baking applications (I’ll have to test that down the line), but I wouldn’t want to sip them or pour them on my cereal.

Brown vs White: I tried both kinds of rice and felt a strong preference for brown rice. There was something rounder and more complex about the flavor it brought to the milk.

DIY Rice Milk: Toasted?

Toasting: As I mentioned above, I didn’t like using the overcooked rice, but there was still something off about the raw rice to my palate. I found that a quick toasting (left, above) in a dry skillet hit the happiest medium.

Sweeteners and Flavorings: Commercial rice milk does include oil, which some have suggested adds a creamier mouth feel. I was not a fan, particularly due to the tendency of the homemade milk to easily separate. However, some sweetener and/or flavoring seems needed if it’s going to be used as a beverage. Honey is good, but I like a couple teaspoons of maple syrup even more. White sugar results in a sweetness that’s the closest to the commercial variety. And no matter which you choose, a half teaspoon of vanilla extract is a lovely addition as well.

Do you have a favorite method that I missed or a special flavoring combination? Any tips or tricks you’d recommend?

DIY Rice Milk: Flavorings

The Verdict

Brown rice at my local grocery is selling for 99¢ for one pound, which will make the equivalent of about two and a half 32-ounce boxes of commercial rice milk (retailing for $2.49 each), so—depending on what else you like to add—the economic savings seem obvious. The operation also takes very little active time or effort. When all is said and done, the real question is probably one of taste. While similar to the commercial options, this DIY recipe is not an exact replica of what’s on grocery store shelves. This homemade version tastes more like, well, rice. If you’re looking for a cost-saving option that you are free to flavor to suit your own preferences, however, this is a great way to go.

DIY Rice Milk

DIY Rice Milk
Makes two cups (easily multiplied to match volume needs)

1/2 cup brown rice
2 cups water
Honey, maple syrup, white sugar, or other sweetener to taste (optional)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (optional)
pinch salt

In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast rice grains until fragrant and coloring, stirring regularly, about four minutes. Transfer to a bowl or jar and add 2 cups water. Set aside to soak ten hours.

When soaking in complete, pour rice and water into blender pitcher, add any additional sweeteners and flavorings, and blend at highest setting until rice grains are no longer visible, about 2 minutes.

Using a nut milk bag or similarly fine strainer, drip milk into a clean glass storage jar. Chill rice milk thoroughly before serving. Shake well before each use.

Variations: Add a bit of cocoa powder or cinnamon or nutmeg to the rice and water before blending.

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This recipe and post were created for my “DIY vs. Buy” column on Serious Eats.

DIY: Housemade Bitters and the Wonderland White Manhattan

whitem_top
June 6, 2012 By In diy, drink me, from the bar

I tossed “how to make your own house bitters” into Google’s search engine so many times, I’m no longer sure where the original impulse came from. Given my love for odd ingredients, science experiment-like kitchen activity, and small jars, however, it’s not difficult to see why the fascination stuck. After combing through some online instruction, this recipe published in Food + Wine (and contributed by Brad Thomas Parsons, the man who literally wrote the book on bitters) seemed a manageable place to wade into the pond.

Recipe selected, it was time to go shopping! I don’t know about your kitchen, but my pantry wasn’t already stocked with devil’s club root and wild cherry bark. Online retailers such as the Dandelion Botanical Company, however, were ready to outfit me. I must admit feeling a certain “earth mama meets wicked witch” vibe while scanning the shop’s inventory and selecting my poisons, er, I mean, herbs. I also ordered a copy of Parsons book for good measure. I could already feel that this was going to be habit forming.

bitters ingredients

Bitters Making

Once I received my collection of small ziplock baggies filled with various dried leaves and twigs, I measured out all the required bitters-making ingredients into a jar and had it all made up in a manner of minutes. The most difficult part of the recipe was the waiting–in total, the process takes a little over two weeks–and remembering to shake the mixture each evening. (In the end, B set a recurring alarm for us on his phone.)

As time wore on, there was some required straining and boiling, but mostly more waiting. Eventually the time arrived to add the final bit of maple syrup and bottle this concoction. For want of small bottles, it was time to go shopping again! (Now, shopping is not normally an activity I enjoy, but in the virtual aisles of Specialty Bottle, I think I began to understand how most women must feel in shoe stores.)

Bitters Bottles

Admittedly, now as I read through recipes for such interesting things as Rhubarb Bitters, I see that my autumnal-toned bitters may have been a little heavy for the season. Indeed, its warm and rich taste profile is well matched to bourbon and rye and apple pie. I was not about to wait for the falling leaves before using it, however, so Wonderland Mixologist Brian Sacawa designed us a drink to imbibe in the meantime.

Housemade Bitters and the White Manhattan

Wonderland White Manhattan

2 oz. Catoctin Creek Organic Mosby’s Spirit
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1/2 oz. bénédictine
2 dashes Woodland Bitters
Cherry

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice and measure in all the liquid ingredients. Stir, don’t shake, the drink and strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a cherry.

Housemade Bitters and the White Manhattan

Pretty in Pink Week: Market Strawberries

strawberry_top
May 15, 2012 By In diy, drink me, eat me, non-alcoholic, salads

We’re not really a fruit household. I mean, there’s Brian’s banana-a-day habit and my endless juicing of lemons, but aside from that, it’s the rare apple or lime that crosses our threshold; like cakes and cookies, the sweets just don’t carry much traction. Give us brussels spouts or give us broccoli, but please hold the peaches, pineapples, and grapes.

Still, even a hardhearted Team Savory fan such as myself could not resist the loveliness that was the first market strawberries of the Maryland season. And when my friend Marie helpfully prompted that I could “totally put a couple in a salad,” my defenses were crushed.

At home, I did indeed find a way to work them into an arugula salad with a tangy herbed buttermilk dressing. But I also got to thinking about that colonial fruit preservation method known as the shrub. I’d kept a jar of this vinegar-laced syrup a couple summers back and put it to good use in generous glasses of seltzer (yes, my homemade seltzer contraption is still going strong!). Perhaps it was time to make some more? Yes, yes indeed.

Strawberry Salad with Herbed Buttermilk Dressing
Serves 2

2 generous handfulls of baby arugula, spinach, or greens of your choice
6 strawberries

For the dressing

1/2 cup buttermilk
1 T white Balsamic vinegar
1 T fresh chopped basil or dill (or a mix)
salt and pepper to taste

Mix all dressing ingredients.

Rinse the greens (if necessary) and hull and slice the strawberries. Plate and drizzle with the dressing.

The Strawberry Shrub

After some internet research and reflection, I decided to go with the 1:1:1 ratio of fruit:sugar:vinegar. I macerated the fruit with the sugar (now that is a satisfying feeling) and left the mixture to sit for 24 hours. At that point, I added a cup of apple cider vinegar and will now mind it, shaking daily, for seven days. Then it’s strain and refrigerate until needed. Here is a helpful post, if you’re looking for more detailed background and instructions. The last time I did this, I worked in the reverse order, first infusing the vinegar and then cooking in the sugar. So we shall see how this new experiment compares.

Christmas Mead for Wassailing

mead_top
December 18, 2011 By In diy, drink me, from the bar

I’ve worn a paper crown at Medieval Times and been to a Renaissance fair joust or two, but the Maryland Renaissance Festival takes the mutton leg for village size and patron dress-up commitment. A couple of summers ago while browsing the artisan wares, I spied a kit for “short mead” that I couldn’t resist after reading the tag line “if you can boil water, you can make mead in 7-14 days with this kit, two pounds of honey, and a gallon of spring water!” It was food science! It was $9! What was there to lose?

I brewed that batch and was hooked. Unlike the strawberry wine that I had made earlier in the summer, this was relatively little investment for a nice return–an effervescent fermented drink that was light and sweet and endlessly variable, depending on the type of honey and tea you used to spice it up. It wasn’t complex, it wasn’t refined, but it sure was tasty.

I’ve produced a few more versions since that first batch—all interesting, all drinkable–and the mulling spices I currently have on hand in the pantry seemed to demand that a Christmas mead be made. I bottled it on the early side (eight days) so it’s retained its honey sweetness, with distinct cinnamon and orange notes. I think it’s going to make for a lovely glass to raise around the tree next week.

Christmas Mead: process

Christmas Mead
based on the Ambrosia Farm Short Mead Kit

1 gallon spring water
2 lbs. honey
tea to flavor (the combos are endless and should be adapted to your taste, but I cut open 6 mulling spice tea bags for this venture)
5 grams champagne yeast
square of cheese cloth and rubber band to cap

Open the spring water and pour off 4 cups of the contents and discard. Pour out an additional 3 cups and place in a sauce pan. Recap the water jug.

Place the sealed honey jar and gallon jug of water in the sink and fill with hot water to warm the ingredients.

Meanwhile, bring the water in the sauce pan to a boil and simmer the tea for 10 minutes, covered with a lid. Remove pan from heat and allow to cool.

Once water and honey have warmed, remove the containers from their bath and pour the 2 lbs of honey into the gallon jug. Recap, and shake to mix thoroughly. Once tea has cooled slightly, add it (including all the lose tea) to the gallon jug as well.

When the temperature of the jug contents has been reduced to warm bathwater, sprinkle the yeast across the top of the liquid (do not mix) and cover the top of the jug with a square of cheesecloth secured with the rubber band. Do not recap! The brew must be allowed to breath. Place the jug somewhere dark but at least 70 degrees (I have an upstairs closet I like to use for this) and allow it to ferment for one week. At that point, you can begin tasting your brew; sweetness will lessen by the day.

When it has achieved the desired balance, bottle (pour off the liquid and leave the sediment behind in the jug) and store. This mead requires refrigeration, as the yeast remains active. If left capped under pressure in the refrigerator, it will pick up a pleasant carbonation. Uncap the mead if it must be left out at room temperature for any reason.