Milk! Cheese! Cows! Oh my!

The strongest "culture" I identify with are the rural dwellers of my mother's family. Five generations of Zeiders have lived in Clark County, WA. Her father, Russell, was a dairy farm for many years. While he was a taciturn man, he often yodeled to his dairy cows. The farm was a functioning dairy, but was not able to support the family and the farm. So Grandpa Russell also drove trucks and school buses, and his wife Martha worked in the local post office. Milking the cows every morning eventually became too much, so Grandpa switched to beef cattle eventually.

Because my mom grew up enjoying fresh milk, cream, butter and eggs from their farm, she understandably has high standards for these foods. In my house, the DOs of food include all kinds of cheeses, butter, milk and cream. DO NOTs forbid American/processed "cheese," margarine, skim milk and Coolwhip. Psuedo-dairy products are always rejected in favor of actual dairy. As a young children, my sisters and I loved playing with the squirt cans of whipped cream. Eventually though, when we were old enough to cook, Mom was happy to introduce us to actual whipped cream: liquid cream that was beaten to a fluff by an electric mixer and sweetened with honey. All summer long, we would enjoy whipped cream with fresh berries that Mom bought in bulk from local farms.

It's hard to say which was better: our homemade whipped cream with berries, or the Clark County Dairy Women's milkshakes. Once a year, they sell milkshakes at the county Fair, and on hot days they have loooong lines. The shakes are made with ice cream so thick that you can barely get the milkshake up a straw, and fresh berries in their syrup flavors. I love the chocolate-raspberry shake that comes complete with raspberry seeds.

Now that I live six hours north of Mom, I still like my dairy products. Like in her fridge, I always have some cheddar cheese, and often other kinds of cheese as well. My twin and I were quite happy to find that several grocery stores in Bellingham sell milk in glass jars from a Ferndale dairy. I like the idea that I could meet the cows that produce the milk I drink.

I'm not always sure that it is still well understood where milk comes from. On one of my many, many train rides home, I saw a movie called Barnyard. It's protagonist was a young bull. This bull, and all the other bulls in the movie had an appalling feature in common: udders. Yup, that's right. All the MALES in this movie essentially, had female breasts. Apparently, no one involved in the drawing, editing and other parts of production in this movie thought realized that udders are reserved for cows old enough to have given birth and now have pronounced udders to provide the calf with milk. Strangely, I can understand a later scene in which a cow gives birth while laying on her back and a blanket over her. All the bovines walked upright on their back legs and one even snowboarded; clearly they were trying to humanize all the animals, as is usually done in cartoon movies. But the change in anatomy for the bulls was just disturbing. The cartoonists wouldn't have able to draw what bulls actually have located in that area, but still, giving bulls udders was NOT a good artistic solution.

In the continuing theme... a book on where milk comes from, and a book about my favorite dairy product: cheese.

• Schloat, G. Warren. Milk for You. New York: Scribner, 1951.
• Wilson 4E-Children's Collection SF239 .S36 1951
  

• Eekhof-Stork, Nancy. The World Atlas of Cheese. Trans. Adrian Bailey. New York: Two Continents Publishing Group, 1976.
• Wilson 4W Books-Oversize SF271 .E34 1976