Little Miss Muffet, that’s me. Husband has flown off again for work, leaving me and the chickadees to get on with things, and it occurred to me that what our life was missing was goat’s curd. No, I haven’t been sniffing rennet - it’s just one of those wonderful ingredients frequently found on restaurant menus but for some reason tricky to find in the shops. I’m not sure why - we’re not talking asses’ milk here, are we?
Loads of ways to use goat’s curd
I eat quite a lot of goat’s curd in Australia and find it addictive. It has the wonderful tangy, farmyard taste of goat’s cheese plus the creamy deliciousness of ricotta - and still tastes fresh and light. It’s magnificent married with pumpkin and lentils, wonderful with a warm beetroot salad and pretty fantastic just smeared on sourdough toast with a light shower of good salt. Although it probably falls this side of savoury, goat’s curd also adds an interesting dimension to puddings: a little splodge on a lemon tart for example, or just drizzled with a small amount of honey and a sprinkling of almonds or pine nuts. I know some people add sugar or mix in lots of honey when they use goat’s curd in puddings, but in my view you might as well serve cream. You’ve got to have that farmyard taste or there really isn’t much point.
Why make goat’s curd? Just because
Imen McDonnell inspired me to do this in her fantastic blog about making her own clotted cream. She is a dairy farmer, so it makes a certain sense for her, but the point she made was valid for everyone. Don’t ask yourself why you’re making clotted cream, just do it.
With this in mind, I urge everyone to have a crack at it - for something so simple, it really does give you a sense of achievement. I would love to make it with raw milk (now there’s a story - anyone interested in buying a lovely article about raw milk? I have one going spare..) as the taste would be richer and more intense. But I was very happy with my results, made with full-fat pasteurized goats milk following Xanthe Clay’s method. Possibly I needed to strain the curd for longer than a couple of hours to achieve a slightly thicker curd. But if patience is a milkmaid’s virtue then that probably rules me out of a place in the dairy.
1. Heat 1 litre of full-fat goat’s milk to 77°F. Remove from the heat and add 1 tbsp rennet (Waitrose sells it and most good health food shops) and 2 tbsp lemon juice and a little salt. Cover and set aside for 1 hour.
2. Pour the mixture into a muslin-lined colander set over a large bowl, and leave for two or three hours, depending on how thick you want your curd to be. (Note the free product placement for Eve Lom. I didn’t have anything else to hand). I did have to give the curd - wrapped in its muslin shroud - a good squeeze at the end to achieve the thickness I was after, and even then it was quite wet. Perhaps I needed to leave it longer.
3. Ta-da! Creamy and tangy goat’s curd. Beware - 1 litre of goat’s milk yields 1 scant cup of curd. I’m ashamed to say I threw away the whey - but here are some ideas if you would like to put it to good use.
4. The curd was delicious served with this simple fig tart. To make a tart for 2 (greedy people) place 250g dried figs in a pan and add just enough water to cover. Add a chai teabag and simmer for 10 minutes, then remove from the heat and leave to plump while you prepare the dough. Take a sheet of ready-rolled puff pastry and cut off a quarter. Give this a light roll to make it slightly thinner, then cut it in half and mark out a 1cm border around each piece. Drain the figs, reserving the cooking liquor; slice the figs so that you have enough to cover both rectangles of pastry. Pop in an oven preheated to 180° for 10-15 minutes, or until the pastry is puffed and golden. Serve drizzled with the reserved cooking liquor, a scattering of toasted flaked almonds and the goat’s curd on the side.
Alternatively simmer some over-ripe strawberries with a little icing sugar and splash of balsamic until the fruit releases its juice. Leave to cool and then spoon over some goat’s curd.
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