Homestead Happenings: The Real Cheese

It was too much news last time for one post, and I didn’t care to skimp on the cheese bragging, especially!

But then I got sent off on a cheese tangent when trying to simply explain why most commercially-produced cheese on grocery store shelves should not even be called real cheese anymore.

In fact, maybe even some of these fabulous-looking cheeses from traditional French fromageries like I used to love to frequent might also make the fake food list. I sincerely hope not, but France, like all of ‘the West’ are increasingly subjected to the same chemical onslought as we are in the US.

Making cheese is the best thing I’ve ever done.  In my life, without exception.  Thanks to it, I have uncovered some of the rarest, most simple, deepest and most common of universal life lessons.

No offense to Handy Hubby, marrying him is definitely a close second. 😆

I’ve heard similar magnanimous claims recounted only through such trials and tribulations as come through miracles such as child birth and motherhood. But I have not been a mother.  

Don’t cry for me though, because I found cheese!

From it I’ve delved into the practicalities–the art, the craft–of the most delicious hobby I can imagine.  I have also been either introduced, or expanded my knowledge on topics as diverse as vaccines, germ theory, pleomorphism, alchemy, modern chemistry, even math–some things which I rejected with ease or sometimes ferocity–which now claim me, my mind and passions and preoccupations, like one conquered, lured and pushed, exposed and protected, by some ultimate wisdom.  

Anyone who knew me in my younger years would be surprised, I’m sure, as my sister was, that I would willingly and repeatedly entangle my brain with math and science. Not that either is entirely necessary for traditional cheesemaking.

Every cheese pictured here, and plenty more that are not, I’ve made with the same 4 ingredients: locally-sourced raw milk, our own animal rennet, clabber and salt.

From David Asher’s fantastic tome, Milk Into Cheese: The Foundations of Natural Cheesemaking Using Traditional Concepts, Tools, and Techniques

Most commercial producers of cheese believe that packaged starters are the only option for cheese’s proper production; that milk is deficient in the appropriate microbes and rich in dangerous ones; and that they are incapable of realizing the work that is normally done by trained microbiologists.  DVIs (Direct Vat Innoculants–freeze-dried starters) are considered the only acceptable way to safely make cheese, and the most convenient option for producers, big or small.

He’s too polite and wise to say the industry has been completely captured, but I do believe he’d agree with me on that!

Industrial starters are by and large produced by multinational corporations. Danisco, the most prolific starter producer, is based in Denmark and is a subsidiary of DuPont.  This corporation and others like it profit off cheesemakers’ demand for a product that they do not truly need.

Industrial starters are monocultures of microorganisms that have no precedent in nature and need perfectly sterile environments in order to function correctly.  They are out of touch with the reality of cheese, which needs dozens if not hundreds of species of microbes to evolve according to their safest and most flavorful pathways.

The deception on the foundational level, resting on disproven science from the early 1900s, is bad enough.  But the consumer sees none of that, instead being swept up in extremely dubious marketing practices that call these starters natural and necessary.

And that’s even before we delve into the mass manufacturing of “vegetarian rennet” –that is the lab-derived coagulant now used by the vast majority of cheesemakers large and small around the West and perhaps the world, which also also claims to be natural.

Four ingredients.  Just think about that for a moment, please!  That is all it takes to delight, and/or to disgust, in a thousand different ways.  

Labeling, on cheeses as on GMOs, is simply another way to con the consumer.  The process is as important as the ingredients and changing the meaning of words is par for the course.  More on that next post as I delve into the “Nutrition” label of a popular cheese brand.

Fermentation and the art of putrefaction is the process.  Technically putrefaction is the wrong word, though it does sort of work!

Affinage is the correct term for the fine craft of cheese maturation.  According to AI the difference is:

“Putrefaction refers to the decomposition of organic matter, which can negatively affect cheese quality, while affinage is the controlled aging process that enhances the flavor and texture of cheese. Proper affinage prevents undesirable putrefaction by managing environmental conditions and microbial activity during cheese maturation.”

So it’s basically desirable putrefaction.  It’s like the difference between a weed and an herb, it depends on whose garden it is.

But still, think about that! Like aging fine wines and wiskeys, even hot sauces, this is proper fermentation, where territory REALLY matters.  Where some old-school crafters even insist no one else can touch their concoctions or they’re immediately spoiled.  True story!  

It’s POD taken to an extreme unknown even to our own extreme-loving culture.

POD, or DO (designation of origin) is to the cheese world what Provenance is to the art world.  It is, literally, about ‘savoir faire’ (know-how) –being able to trace the work, the process, back to its source.

Perhaps so that industry can try to capture a piece of that magic? Individual and smallscale crafters in the market are not allowed the same right to privacy as the Big Food manufacturers, who routinely get to claim “proprietary” status whenever they care not to divulge their special little secrets. 

Aging cheese, affinage, is an art, craft, indeed a profession, so ancient it predates our recorded history.  It has nothing at all to do with commercial pasteurization, or chemically-adulterated cheeses, which has absolutely compromised the craft.  Which has been further compromised by a negligence of public health standards and an indifference to territory and creating a GloboGlob culture that is so synthetic it now considers consuming chemicals as food ‘natural’.

And if you are among the great many who are allergic, they don’t tell you it’s because they’ve completely adulterated the ingredients, the process, and even the meaning of words, oh no, they tell you ‘plant-based cheese’ is the next great thing they’re creating just for you!

The new ‘art’ eh? I think not. But time will tell.

Our tastes tell us a much bigger story than our grocery stores care to oblige.  And the ever-increasing health consequences and debilitating diseases point to our palates and our plates, which should take their rightful place at the top of that pyramid of problems.

Cheese is full of life and how each cheese is treated determines its outcome.  Kind of like children too.  It is not a source of disease, though like rearing anything, it can be a source of dis-ease! 

I also feel such a drive to protect these precious processes.  The downright bastardization of what’s considered natural in these times is only escalating toward greater absurdity.  “Natural” and “only possible to manufacture in a lab setting” should not be synonomous!

If that makes me a food snob, I am pleased to claim the title!  We’ll need an army of Queen Food Snobs to push back against this crazy.

Homestead Happenings

We’ve got a sad-but-funny Shadow story, the usual weather nonsense, garden goodies, another instance of AI lies, lots of cheese bragging, the will of pigs, my creativity commitment, all in no particular order.

We’ve had both new setbacks and new achievements so far this growing season.

The false friend of an early spring might feel nice for some temporarily, but most got slammed hard by the subsequent freeze weeks later. We lost all the fruit trees except the citrus, which Hubby’s been painstakingly covering and uncovering all Weather Whiplash Season. The figs, mulberries, magnolias and even the oaks got it the worst as they were already well leafed out.

The lovely wild cherry we uncovered about six years ago when Hubby cleared for the new chicken coop was another sad loss, again. It looks so beautiful full of blossoms, but only once did they last long enough for a cherry harvest. If it’s not the late frosts, it’s the wind, or the bag worms that destroy them.

I’m sure it has nothing at all to do with these totally natural clouds that come right in lockstep with our strange weather, I’m certainly not seeing any patterns and I surely don’t imagine these are some sort of chemicals that fill the sky and do weird things like change the atmosphere, and the climate. Heavens no!

What crazy talk! This is just beautiful big Texas country skies, that’s all!

On the fun success side of things, we have the earliest pepper harvest ever, by far. This was no thanks to the weather either, but rather to my laziness. Now that’s a rare and welcome anamoly! I had excellent success for the first time over-wintering three varieties, after multiple failed attempts. The trick seems to be to never move them. Whereas before I’d haul them in and out during our warm to freeze snaps, thinking I was benefitting them with all the extra effort, in fact no, they did best parked in front of the window for three months.

We’ve already had a little harvest because I feared the still small limbs so heavy with fruits might not fare so well in our next big wind.

The strawberries are another big success, which I finally achieved after so much trial and error, especially error. So successful I shared wheelbarrows full of plants with many friends and neighbors, one who asked to share my tips with the Master Gardeners county extension newsletter. So, here they are! It is certainly a high maintenance crop, but such delicious rewards.

We were able to save the majority of tomatillos from the freeze, but not the tomatoes, not sure why. We had to double cover them, with pots and then frost blankets on top, but that worked. We’d already opted for tomatillos over tomatoes this year for a nice change of pace.

The onions and garlic were not bothered by the freeze and are still growing strong.

plus we’ve got lots of carrots and lettuces, while the crucifers jump directly to seed in their seasonal confusion.

We were also able to get an early jump on blooms we housed with the citrus, so that’s fun. I never tire of more flowers!

Even an extraordinarily early datura!

In other happy news there are always the cute little lambs.

They appear so sweet and harmless, n’est ce pas? But don’t ask our poor terrorized Shadow to agree with that assessment!

Friend or foe, sometimes we don’t know.

He looks, and often acts, like a big brut. But one mama has such a hate toward him he can’t even cross the yard in her presence! Hubby literally has to escort him if the lambs are in the front yard, she will charge at him from 15 yards, and even his meanest growl won’t keep her from butting him if he’s unprotected by a human. The poor dear, it must be terribly immasculating. 😆

Please refrain from shaming the Shadow, he’s a lover not a fighter!

But speaking of fighters, pigs can be extremely pig-headed, in case you didn’t know that slander is very true.

Hubby had already decided to take a sabbatical from pig-rearing last year, and planned it for this spring. He put old Papa Chop down in December after his last breeding hurrah. Seems providence wanted to put a fine point on that decision, by making this round particularly painful. Knowing a big storm was coming, he positioned Mama Chop’s birthing area under cover. She had other ideas, probably because it was so damn hot. They tusseled for two days, she won. Just as Hubby predicted, 3/4 of her litter drowned. And that’s the end of his breeding adventures.

Other changes in our territory are equally ambiguous, are they for better, or for worse? Two opposing, and/or related events. One on the plus side–we seem to be having a resurgence of wildlife. I’ve had multiple sitings of wild turkey, and now we hear some down by the creek seeming to have taken up residence there. I’ve heard many stories of abundant wild turkey in these parts from oldtimers, but in nearly 20 years here had not come across them. Feral hog are another story, they’re always around. But there’s been more deer too, it seems. And rabbits, squirrel and bobcat. No complaints from me, I love to see it! Though I do wonder, might it be because all the oil activity here now is forcing them out of other nearby habitat?

Time will tell.

Friend or foe, sometimes we’ll never know. Like this little guy, lounging in our garden shed, who didn’t seem to find me nearly as cute as I found him! As he struck at the bill of my cap and made me jump like a squealing teenager.

Harmless, I know, jump and squeal I still did! 😂

The last two points will have to wait–my creative commitment and the latest AI lies–they are intrinsically related, please stay tuned.

And the cheese bragging! Coming very soon!

And thanks for stopping by! Until then, a simple song, for us simpletons. 😆🤗😘

Industrial vs Traditional Cheesemaking

Such a synchronistic interview popped into my feeds, which I just have to share. Not only is our wee homestead full of young blood sucking down mamas’ milk, but I’m also teaching another cheesemaking workshop this week.

So, milk is big on my mind, nothing unusual there.

This interview from Weston A. Price is priceless! It really is such an awesome feeling for me when a new and powerful voice comes on the scene repeating what I sincerely believe and what we have been diligently cultivating on the wee homestead. We are losing too much of great value in our blind rush toward ‘progress’. We’ve got to work harder to keep hold of our wise traditions, or they will be lost forever.

This traditional cheesemaker, Trevor Warmedahl, follows the David Asher school of ‘black sheep’ cheesemaking and is doing such an inspiring job of it.

He discusses the on-going rennet controversy, which I’ve also mentioned, here https://kenshohomestead.org/2024/03/04/cheese-brought-to-you-by-pfizer/

Clearly this issue is getting lots more attention lately, but it has been on the radar of many cheese-lovers since the 90s, including yours truly, because I was so peeved to have to give up cheese, because I was suddenly ‘lactose-intolerant’, like loads of other people. But at that time it was only in the U.S. I couldn’t eat breat or cheese, not in Europe.

Today in Europe they have also been inundated with ‘vegetarian’ rennet and glyphosate and other chemical industrial products and processes, and when it comes to cheese, the vast majority are not labeled as such. I got suspicious, started asking a lot of uncomfortable questions, and found out A LOT about GMOs and our body’s reaction to them.

The interview summary and link for anyone interested in some fantastic cheese talk (he even talks about the maggot-ripened cheeses I’ve mentioned quite a few times on this blog!)

Traditional cheesemakers respect the process of cheesemaking. They honor the environment, the animal, its milk and traditional techniques – all of which lead to delicious, nutritious cheese. Industrial cheesemaking, in stark contrast, emphasizes sterile conditions, uniformity, and artificial inputs (including GMO-derived rennet). The cheese that results from the conventional approach is consistent… but misses a lot in terms of flavor profile and nutrients.
 
Trevor Warmedahl is a cheesemaker, fermentation educator and the author of Cheese Trekking. Today, he takes us on a cheese adventure, as we gain insight on traditional, artisanal cheesemaking. He gives us pause about what is in our fridge and where it comes from.
 
Trevor has trekked all over the world, working alongside artisanal cheesemakers, so he understands and shares the importance of working with (instead of against) microbes and nature. He describes cheeses you may have never heard of, along with unique approaches to making them. Trevor also helps us take stock of what has been lost in our modern approach to cheesemaking.
 
Visit Trevor’s website: sourmilkschool.com

https://www.sourmilkschool.com/

Listen to the interview:

What’s Been Lost II

We’ve all heard the expressions: “History is a set of lies agreed upon” and “History is written by the victors” and most have come to accept these tropes.

But what they may not have considered is when the history is that flexible, all those academic fields which are history adjacent–like anthropology, sociology, philosophy, literature, all cultural studies, even linguistics– become subject to those authoritarian whims and fashionable irregularities.

Generalization, subjectivity, distant observation, even making obvious comparisons across vast and complex measurable units–ie. pattern recognition–is not just discouraged, it’s potential grounds for dismissal. It’s considered sloppy, unprofessional, unacademic. Pseudo-subjects and conspiracy theory.

Academics are especially vulnerable to such manipulations as their fields are controlled in a strict hierarchical system and their studies, even as tenured professors, tend to stay very narrow in scope. They do not need to strive for a cohesive worldview in their academic work as they are mostly employed to measure the minutia, to dig deep into one tiny corner of the field, as has been the case with the historical and architectural world of the Mound Builders.

What the volumes of academic work on these cultures tend to do is narrow in so microscopically as to make all similarities irrelevant and cross-cultural observations inadmissable. They debate ad nasauem around shards of pottery found just beneath the surface of their archeological sites and the thousands of ways these tiny artefacts differ from one locale to the next.

There are literally thousands of pages published on comparisons and categorizations of tiny fossils and shards of the various Mound Builder tribes of the Americas. Specific measurements are taken of the space between the decorative lines and their width, length and coloration. All is catelogued in such microscopic detail as to bore to tears all but the most myopic of minds.

Truly, it is a form of academic gaslighting. Keep searching right here, right in this tiny framework where we’ve given the appropriate boundaries and designations. Don’t broaden, don’t do your own investigations, don’t venture out of your assigned territory, all alien parameters will be squashed with contempt and mockery and quite likely, career death.

Observe, very closely, and question every narrative.

That singular, rigid, hierachical model has been demolished with the Internet and for me, who formally studied and taught for four decades the very subjects now being shamelessly dismantled, I couldn’t be more pleased about it.

Actually, I could be. If there was a guarantee the ends would somehow justify all these means–as in the decades of lies and indoctrination and then subsequent ripping away of those foundations and the now erupting attempts to filter the masses into new molds for better slave management and more prosperous slaveholders–then I would certainly be more pleased.

But I’m not so naive as to think there’s ever any such guarantees. (As an entertaining aside, James Corbett here at his comedic best with more on our system of modern slavery.)
https://youtu.be/ZjwO9_3g4xQ?si=8u5_OumKlk-LOMub

But my topic today is a continuation of the last What’s Been Lost new Kensho series. And say what you want about formal education, I’ve experienced the pros and the great many cons, but for all those naysayers and critics, my serious education these days comes from Youtube, mostly. I know, right?!

Don’t knock it ’till you try it, there are some really amazing teachers there (they call them creators now, which is nice) and I’m not watching them to buy into any of their conclusions, but just to appreciate their work, collect their evidence, and consider, that’s all.

There are relatively few in my life who care about this stuff at all, so I’m grateful for the company and impressed with their body of work. Yes, I do understand some of them are part of a big club, and I’m not in it. I don’t mind. And I’ve got no where else to go, and I’ve got a bit of time and loads of interest.

So for those others who might be interested in exploring and considering with me, we continue in search of what’s been lost.

Last time I shared about the Yakhchal, a common radiative cooling system used from ancient times, still in operation in parts of the Middle East, and perhaps close by as well, as close as Dallas.

https://kenshohomestead.org/2026/01/18/whats-been-lost/

Now I will introduce another thread to this story, the so-called Mound Builder ‘indigenous’ tribes of the South, officially referred to as having been ‘occupying’ these lands before the arrival of the Europeans.

A recent video by Jarid Boosters was perfectly timed and is well worth a complete viewing. In it he considers one such Mound Builder culture in present-day Moundville, Alabama, once called the Kingdom of Pafalaya, which includes Fort Morgan. Most of these sites are former military installations and are owned by universities and used as tourist traps now. Some of them are privately owned, all have vast areas not open to the public.

We have one very close to us as well, known as Caddo Mounds, which I’ve written about briefly before, after a sudden (manufactured) tornado hit during their cultural ceremony, destroying much property, killing one and injuring many. The site has since been upgraded and reopened, though there is little to see besides some very basic ‘replica’ huts and of course, a large gift shop.

One of the most famous ones is in the mid-West, near St. Louis, not that far from where I grew up, called Cahokia Mounds.
https://youtu.be/Gw6A2RgVwjs?si=bUXC9lyrKKuRHSQb

What I propose has happened with these sites is a deliberate militarized program of generational amnesia.

“Generational amnesia refers to the phenomenon where each generation forgets important knowledge and experiences from previous generations, leading to a distorted understanding of the past and the environment. This can result in a lack of awareness about changes in society and nature, as new generations accept their current conditions as the norm without recognizing what has been lost.”

They tell us ‘Generative AI’ will solve this mounting modern social problem. Promises, promises. Let’s not wait on those any longer.

For a bit of background, Mound Builders refers to ‘prehistorical’ cultures of the ‘ancient’ South. For our purposes, ‘prehistorical’ refers to the most recent rewriting of history, or ‘reset’ as many interested in these topics are calling it; and ‘ancient’ refers to the ‘Roman’ era and all those pre-dating it. In this version of history we examine especially the period of the so-called “Civil” War, or the war between the states, or the war of Northern agression, or whatever other term seems appropriate for that period of time when much of the southern US was destroyed and their history re-written by the victors.

At this time the official narratives went under the command and control of the military, if they weren’t there already. In my estimation we have always been a military industrial complex, this wasn’t a new phenomenon predicted by another puppet president.

There are other ‘fringe’ channels that deal more specifically with military history, that is not my main interest, one I could recommend for this angle would be that of a former history academic:
https://youtu.be/LqiZPX0Ordc?si=IOKaZQ7FT2Bjr7Wg

In fact, there are so-called Mound sites all over the South, and I’d suggest many of them are as yet ‘undiscovered’ because they sit on private property where even the land owners have no idea what’s beneath them.

In nearby Nacogdoches there is another ‘curated’ Mound site:

“Excavations at the Washington Mound site have uncovered the archeological remains of a large Middle Caddoan period (ca. A.D. 1250-1350) mound complex in south-central East Texas. The investigations of this heretofore unknown complex indicate that there was a significant post-Alto phase culture in the region that may have had a significant impact on subsequent regional Caddoan manifestations.”

While there are teams of academics studying the tiny differences in the fossils on the surface and money rolling in from the tourist trade, and grants galore for those academics willing to tow the official line, the accepted narrative framework gets further cemented into the public consciousness.

The new Southern history started in 1888 or thereabouts, with 1933 appearing oddly often. The commonalities of these sites, like the ‘charcoal-filled pits’ and ‘post holes’ are left as side curiousities or mysteries or given barely-plausible labels like ‘ceremonial spaces’ or ‘burial grounds’.

According to Wiki we see some typical features, like the involvement of the Smithsonian Institution, and a minimum of curious names and the all-important dates to keep our minds distracted from the bigger picture:

The earliest recorded written mention of the mounds was in 1779 by Athanase de Mézières, who traveled from Louisiana to San Antonio in the employ of the Spanish government. In 1919 American James Edwin Pearce was the first professional archeologist to record the site for the Bureau of Ethnology (Smithsonian Institution). In 1933 archeologist E. B. Sayles concluded that the site was a Caddo mound center, after conducting surface collection of artifacts at the location.
The first scientific excavations were conducted from 1939 to 1941 by H. Perry Newell, a University of Texas archeologist with the federal Work Projects Administration in the government of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. When Newell died, archeologist Alex D. Krieger took over investigations at the site and concluded that it had been a major Caddo site. Further excavations in the 1960s and early 1970s by Dee Ann Story pinpointed the timeline of the site to 780 and 1260.

Following military service, Tunnell returned to Texas and began working with archeologist Ed Jelks on the Texas Rivers Basin Survey project funded by the Smithsonian Institution. Their first investigations took place along the McGee Bend of the Angelina River in East Texas, later impounded as part of Sam Rayburn Reservoir. He also worked in the Lake Amistad area along the Rio Grande.

As State Archeologist, Tunnell participated in scientific investigations at the Alamo and other important Spanish Colonial mission and presidio sites in Texas, directed archeological excavations at the ancient Folsom-age Adair-Steadman site, and braved the waters of the Rio Grande in order to record the archeological resources present in the canyons of the Big Bend region. He battled commercial salvagers to retain the 1554 Spanish shipwreck artifacts for the State of Texas and was instrumental in the development of the Antiquities Code of Texas, the legal tool to protect historic resources on public (state) land, including submerged shipwrecks. 

His films and audiotapes documenting the work of numerous folk artisans and craftsmen in the Texas-Mexico border region may well represent the only records of the practitioners of many vanishing crafts and arts. In 1981, Tunnell became THC executive director, a position he held until his retirement in January 1999. 

Through his decades of state service, Tunnell traveled to all 254 Texas counties and developed lasting friendships in all regions of the state. Tunnell passed away suddenly at his home on April 13, 2001.

His name was Tunnell, former military, and her name was Story. Isn’t that special. He liked to talk about Arts & Crafts. But not so much about Antiquitech.

What I wonder is, do the actual tunnels tell another story?

We’ve got mounds and post holes and charcoal-filled pits; we’ve got vast stone walls covered over by lakes and resevoirs and now deemed ‘legend’; we’ve got historical timelines that have clearly been ‘revised’, many times; we’ve got buildings and other structures that make no sense, but get little attention.

The burying of the past continues, the generational amensia widens, and aside from a few Youtubers and their marginalized audiences, I wonder if anyone else really cares.

Just in case you are one of the few who do, thank you, and you’re welcome.

More on the vast and ubiquitous caves and caverns of Texas and the mid-West on a future journey.

What’s Been Lost?

You don’t know, because it was taken long before you were born.
Your father, your grandfather, ditto.
Your child will know less, her child lesser still, what’s been lost.

Someday she might try to dig it up, maybe because life no longer makes sense to her.

So hideously ugly, there’s got to be a better way!

In confusion and rejection of the dystopian present she senses roots calling from the past, something deeper was once here, something grander, was it an alignment, a race, an epoch, antiquitech, infrastructure, what?

What’s been lost? Where has it gone? Who took it?
Who continues to take it?

A new series for Kensho,
Starting now . . .

What does ancient Persia and modern Texas have in common? The Ice House.

If I said that to a Texan they’d think I meant the popular outdoor beer gardens, and their version of history would go back to the early 1900s and they’d think that was old. Perhaps they’d offer some local trivia or home-spun yarns, like the original Texas Ice House was the first ice manufacturing company, which is now claimed to be have been merely an ice storage facility, which later became the modern day 7-11 francise. There is, like most home-spun yarns, some truth in that story. And much redirection and fabrication as well. Perhaps to keep your eyes of our own ancient history.

More from Wiki:
In some parts of Texas, especially from San Antonio and the Texas Hill Country down to the Mexican border, ice houses functioned as open-air bars, with the word “icehouse” becoming a colloquialism for an establishment that derives the majority of its income from the sale of cold beer.[24] The distinction between South Texas ice houses and ice houses of other parts of the state and the South has been connected to the Catholicism of the region, a deeper-rooted Mexican culture, and the influence of German immigrants.

A nice find from a local antique shop. I believe some of the old buildings in the nearby small city of Palestine once used this radiative cooling system.

On radiative cooling

I believe it begins in Persia, still home to many ice houses, called Yakhchal. Alternative energy in the modern Western sense is really ugly, cumbersome, expensive, destructive, in comparison. Yet, there is evidence that the Yakhchal was once more widespread than just in the ancient, or modern, middle east.

The yakhchal is used for preserving and storing food, cooling structures, even making icy sweets. It works through radiative cooling, which existed in ancient times, still is in existence in remote areas today, and yet, it’s not the norm here, in the modern and advanced industrial West. Why?

The dome of an ice house in Italy.

That they propose it now to cool the entire planet with this line of tech means they think they can scale it that far up, yet they can’t manage to scale it back down, again. How can that be?

Geoengineering the planet with ‘lost’ radiative cooling technology, Science Direct. And ‘global radiative sky cooling’.

What is the difference between the common springhouse and an icehouse, which is the Yakhchal? My neighbors once had a springhouse, but I’d only know that because he told me himself, before he died, at over 90 years old.

Where else would such useful information be kept, I wonder? How will the next owners know there was once a springhouse there, one that might even be restored to a functioning status, when I see on their real estate listing that not even the grandchildren seem to know or care about this old feature? Who cares now, right, because we have the water co-op and the electric company we can pay each month.

I believe a case could be made that the very common structures once known as springhouses were the vernacular equivalent of the ice house.

Much is written about ancient Persian architecture in this work from 1887 by “Madame” . I can’t help but wonder, similar to how the meaning of Ice House changed in Texas, did the meaning of Madame also change? ‘Cause Dude does NOT look like a lady!

Three main types of Yakhchals exist: vaulted, underground, and roofless, each adapted to different climatic conditions.

Passive cooling so common and effortless that even poor people could afford ice:
(PDF) Yakhchal; Climate Responsive Persian Traditional Architecture

Mehdipour, Armin. Yakhchal; Climate Responsive Persian Traditional Architecture.

Yakhchāl – Wikipedia
The Mughal emperors also recorded to adopt the technology of Yakchal. Humayun (r. 1530–1540, 1555–1556) expanded ice imports from Kashmir to Delhi and Agra, insulating blocks with straw and saltpetre to slow melting, a Persian technique. Early Baraf Khana (underground pits) stored ice, adapted from ‘yakhchāl’ for preservation.[4] Akbar (r. 1556–1605) organized ice transport from Kashmir to Delhi, Agra, and Lahore via a 14-stage relay system, delivering ice in two days using saltpetre. The ab-dar khana at Fatehpur Sikri used sandstone cisterns and qanats, resembling yakhchāl, to cool water and make sherbets and early desserts.[5] During the era of Jahangir (r. 1605–1627), Tuzuk-i-Jahangiri describes baraf khana as insulated cellars storing ice for palace cooling, food preservation, and kulfi, a frozen milk dessert with pistachios and saffron. Ice was harvested in Lahore from shallow ice pans and stored in straw-lined pits.Shah Jahan (r. 1628–1658).[6] Shah Jahan built a baraf khana in Sirmaur to supply Agra and Delhi’s Red Fort. These underground structures with thick walls stored ice for drinks, food, and kulfi, symbolizing imperial luxury.[7]
Although many have deteriorated over the years due to widespread commercial refrigeration technology, some interest in them has been revived as a source of inspiration in low-energy housing design and sustainable architecture.[8] And some, like a yakhchāl in Kerman (over a mile above sea level), have been well-preserved. These still have their cone-shaped, eighteen meter high building, massive insulation, and continuous cooling waters that spiral down its side and keep the ice frozen throughout the summer.


What we see as far as typical architectural features of the Yakhchal are domes, sometimes occuring with minerets, or spires, and sometimes with bells associated as well. Underground gardens are also a feature in the more elaborate designs.

Interestingly, Dallas has such an architectural gem, though I’ve not found any mention of the yakhchal or ice house technology mentioned in the literature.

The celebrated architect of the famous underground Dallas square.

From Wiki:
Thanks-Giving Square – Wikipedia

The Square is set fifteen feet below ground level with a four-foot wall blocking the sight of automobiles to create a serene, green island. Water plays a prominent role in the landscape, with active fountains masking city noise.

Sitting amid the steel and glass skyscrapers of the Dallas business district, Thanks-Giving Chapel’s white spiral building is a beautiful—and unusual—sight. A curvilinear chapel resembling the 9th century Al-Malwia (snail shell) freestanding minaret of the Great Mosque of Samarra, Iraq, built by the Abbasid caliph Al-Mutawakkil, is not a building a visitor to Dallas expects to see. Another pleasant surprise is the Qur’anic verse “Grateful praise is due to God alone, the Lord and Nourisher of the worlds” engraved on a granite column at the entrance to Thanks-Giving Square. A portion of Psalms 100 appears on the Wall of Praise, also at the square’s entrance.

In 1971, the Dallas-based nonsectarian Thanks-Giving Foundation hired renowned American architect Philip Johnson to design a chapel that would celebrate the value and spirit of the institution of thanksgiving. Completed in 1976, Johnson’s white marble aggregate building dominates the three-acre triangular site that is dedicated to spiritual reflection. A sloping bridge built over a cascading waterfall connects the courtyard to the chapel. From his study of art history, Johnson was inspired by the spiral form of the Samarra minaret—which is similarly connected to the Great Mosque by a bridge.

“The spiral design perfectly conveys the foundation’s dual mission of offering a place for all people to give thanks to our creator and celebrating the value and spirit of thanksgiving for both sacred and secular cultures throughout the world,” Tatiana Androsov, Thanks-Giving Square’s president and executive director, told the Washington Report on Middle East Affairs.

Inside the chapel, a visitor’s attention is immediately drawn to the Glory Window (above), a multi-colored stained glass ceiling created by Gabriel Loire. This striking creation was memorialized in a United Nations stamp in 2000, the International Year of Thanksgiving. In one area of the room is a large white Carrara marble cube mounted on a sandstone circle made of local Austin stone. The cube is symbolic of the unification of mankind; the circle symbolizes eternity.

During the week, the chapel is a convenient and tranquil location in an otherwise busy city for Muslims working in the downtown business district to pray. “Although there are 22 mosques in the Dallas area, many Muslims working in this part of town like to come here, especially for Friday prayers,” Androsov explained.
Visitors from Europe, the Middle East, Asia and Africa come to the chapel as part of the U.S. State Department’s International Visitor Leadership Program, she added. The Thanks-Giving Foundation is a Department of Public Information NGO with the United Nations. For more information, visit www.thanksgiving.org.

Thanks for joining me on this little journey through time and space!

domes and spires everywhere back then!

One last deep speculation–could this ancient architectural tech also relate to the so-called Mound Builder indigenous tribes all over the Americas?

More on that next ‘What’s Been Lost’ post.

So. Much. Cheese

Just some happy snaps with minimal commentary this post, because it’s been too long. With more coming very shortly, as soon as my new keyboard arrives, because I loathe the hunt and peck method of the digital keyboard.

Some aged cheeses and winter herbs: smoked cheese on lees, kenshobert, pepper havarti, dill havarti and cheddar, with some fresh sage, cilantro and rosemary.
My biggest cheese this season from 9 gallons, caraway cheddar aged in a poke-tinted tallow coating. Unfortunately, it’s not my favorite. Fortunately, others like it fine so I happily gave the whole thing away.
My personal favorite, my signature Kenshobert, a local take on Camembert.
A large dill havarti and variety of experiments, most quite good!
Sharing a charcuterie board of cheeses and cured lamb.
A winter harvest of romaine, onions, herbs, radishes and even an orange from our little shrub and some cherry tomatoes because it’s been so unseasonably (and unnaturally) warm.
Plus a pot of today’s milk becoming clabber for tomorrow’s cheese.

A Christmas bumblebee!

A few more happy snaps . . .

A darling bird of prey I watched right off our balcony from our recent quick roadtrip to Gruene in the Hill Country.

Also in Gruene, a so-called ‘mud-flooded’ building, more coming soon on that conspiracy theory in the new year.

They have preserved some gorgeous trees there from the ever-encroaching urban sprawl, and more power to ’em!

Merry Christmas from the wee homestead!

Thanks for stopping by!

Bubba, questioning the weather, surely

Surveillance Capitalism Comes With a Side of Atmospheric Tampering

“Papers, please!” was a running joke among Western expats living in Eastern Europe. I wonder how many of them now carry a permanent spying device with great pleasure or perhaps even cheerfully signed on to the digital passport program, first in line, buying into the ploys of safety and convenience.

The Globe was supposed to move in the other direction entirely! We won the Cold War, supposedly, in order to NOT be treated like the perpetual citizen-criminals of Kafka’s stories.

Eastern Europe in 1989 was a surreal place for a young university sophmore voyaging long distances by train alone for the first time. It was at once charming and derelict, welcoming and suspicious, familiar and mysterious.

On the one hand I never felt physically threatened, not even as flaneuse on the city streets at night. On the other hand the decrepid state of the infrastructure whispered danger somehow, because neglect itself is a dark force.

On the one hand the relative poverty was palpable, though my midwest suburban upbringing was middle class, great food variety and consumer goods were far more available. On the other hand their resourcefullness has had a lifelong impact on me and was my first critical look at the innate and corrupting consumerism of my little world.

I didn’t speak the languages and there were very few English speakers. I got by, barely, with French, rudimentary German and smiling, mostly. Americans were considered automatically suspect, so some travelers would claim to be Canadian at any venue not requiring their passports.

Already on the issue of passports I was laughingly naive.

A variety of stamp collecting, or paving the way for the Global digital gulag? It was an especially exciting moment in the expats life when your passport got so full of stamps you had to go pronto to the nearest embassy to get new blank pages stapled into the back of the official document.

Interestingly, while Americans were considered automatically suspect, there was still a sort of cult following that adored America and those who were positively thrilled to meet one, and I made it a point of meeting those unique sorts.

I went on to be a Peace Corps volunteer there a few years later precisely because of my immediate attraction to this region. I felt compelled to know it better and the fact I had the opportunity to spend three more years there, mostly in Czech Republic, but traveling the region extensively, was in fulfillment of my deepest desires and longings at that time.

For all that I loved it, there I also felt my greatest repulsions.

The dystopian Kafkaesque bureaucrocy I experienced was not just fiction. The general acceptance of the populace, while not exactly Stolkholm Sydrome toward their Soviet occupiers, was still a quiet resignation which struck me as particularly pathetic considering their far more astute knowledge of history.

My old passports are the best symbol with which I can try to express my current level of despair seeing my greatest repulsions come to fruition all around me, even as we ‘the Capitalist West’ were the supposed winners of the Cold War.

What did we win? A military industrial complex acting against the best interests of its people. A Corporatocracy run by corrupt public-private partnerships which pretends not to be a fascistic system. Progress that is defined entirely by blind acceptance of anything stamped with the Technocrat seal of approval. Endless paving over of the countryside for roads and minimalls and condos and tourist traps in the ugliest construction ever known to ‘civilized’ man.

Civilization itself has morphed into something totally uncivil, hideous and expanding entirely out of control.

I, like many other intrepid travelers, thought of the passport merely as the modern equivalent of the old travel trunks stamped fashionably with destinations. We thought of them as a collection of strange signs and symbols we’d forever associate with our new memories of far-off places. They were the paper images of our wanderlust we planned to show one day to the grandkids, not knowing they would be holding a digital scrolling device we’d rarely be able to pry from their clutches.

Just a decade ago this was all ranch land

“Once traditional farming systems have been destabilised by the debt-trap of subsidised loans, structural adjustment policies, corporate input regimes, global supply chains, patented seeds and monocultural production, mass migration to cities becomes an inevitability engineered from above. The city thus absorbs the displaced because the countryside has been systematically stripped of opportunities or carved up for infrastructure or real estate schemes.”

What if we’d been given the actual choice, not the strategically invented one, between our current paradigm of progress as a global militarized surveillance state and the ‘stagnation’ where the Eastern Bloc resided for half a century?

This, or this?

Electric prison bars or progress?

Do folks really think WHEN this whole shitshow goes tits-up there will be government funding for the clean-up and restoration of this once beautiful land?

That I don’t want this EVER, for ANYONE makes me some kind of bitter-clinger communist?

“ALA’s annual State of the Air report found that 156.1 million people—46 percent of the population—now live in counties with failing grades for ozone or particle pollution, nearly 25 million higher than last year. Previously less-affected areas, such as Minneapolis, saw significant spikes in unhealthy air days tied to climate-exacerbated wildfires and particle pollution, such as dust.”

Universities funded by public-private partnerships clandestinely tamper with our atmosphere using euphemistically-named scientific jargon like ‘Plume dispersions’ as if this is not mass poisoning?

A fairy tale of citizen safety in the form of acoustic weapons for
city-wide crisis alerts?

https://newbraunfels.gov/m/newsflash/Home/Detail/3762

A hellscape of ‘progress’ in the form of the most ugly, extractive and intrusive landscapes imaginable?

How did ‘WE’ win in this global game that began long before I was born?

What kind of twisted minds call this progress? We have 70 years of documented atmospheric tampering while officialdom continues in denying its impact, which is now going into overdrive while the voices of the livid citizenry, especially those losing their livliehoods in the rural regions, get squashed. Same as it always was.

“Similarly, Gerard Winstanley, writing in the 17th century, envisioned a society in which land and labour were shared as a common good, not commodities to be exploited. His insistence on communal responsibility and ecological justice underscores the radical, enduring potential of agrarian ethics against the logic of extraction and profit.

In this light, the critique of urban-centric development becomes more than an economic critique. It represents a challenge to the very definition of progress. The rejection of the celebratory narrative of neoliberal modernity is a philosophical insistence that a society cannot be judged by its technological prowess while its ecological foundations crumble and its people are alienated from the sources of life.

The modern city, therefore, becomes a battleground where two visions of civilisation confront one another: the dominant model of corporate-led, centrally managed growth and the fragile but persistent ethic of stewardship, locality and shared responsibility. As made clear in my new open access book, The Agrarian Imagination: Development and the Art of the Impossible (available here), genuine human development cannot be measured by urban skylines or GDP figures but by the survival of relationships between people, land and community that give meaning to life.”

https://figshare.com/articles/book/The_Agrarian_Imagination_Development_and_the_Art_of_the_Impossible/30589238?file=59624783

Beneath the Concrete, the Soil Still Whispers – OffGuardian

Texas Weather Modification Report–1964 – Zero Geoengineering

On Germ Theory & Cheesemaking Reality

I taught my Beginners Cheesemaking Workshop at the Senior Center and as always when teaching, I learned SO much.

Beyond the barely controlled kitchen chaos, of which I fully approve, there were the usual sort of mistakes to learn from, like why a random rennet failure for one participant, and why another’s curd did not want to separate from its whey. Those issues were fixed, total failure averted, which is the very best way to teach cheesemaking.

Lots can go wrong but most likely you’ll still have good cheese, that’s my primary teaching goal. It may not be the cheese you were going for, but that’s ok.

Do first, talk later, that’s how it should be with cheesemaking, according to me. There really is a method to my madness, and it’s staunchly ‘anti-science’. This is totally logical, because folks were making cheese LONG before anyone understood the science behind it. In fact, much of the science behind it is still disputed.

You don’t need to know what rennet is, or study a recipe first, or have all your ducks in a row before diving in. In fact, like with many new skills, too much information is actually an impediment to just getting started.

I like to allow the alchemical magic to lure the potential future cheesemaker into the process all on its own. Their desire for more knowledge, more structure, more understanding is a far more powerful teacher than I could ever be prattling on about all the minutea on the science of cheesemaking.

Which is more fascinating, the art or the science of cheesemaking? That will depend on the individual, but let’s face it, for most of us, art is far more fun.

So my moto is, let’s get in and get dirty! And we did, wow, did we make an impressive mess. A deep bow to the very kind ladies who did all the cleanup, I definitely scored there. I should’ve calculated better how much mess there would be, but what fun is there in that?

In my personal debriefing session once home and reflecting on the experience, I had a few ‘room for improvement’ points to make, but not around the mess or the chaos. (Note to self: bring extra cheese for the ones who get stuck washing up.)

Those details are important, but not nearly as important as the most important thing I learned, which is–folks out here don’t actually believe in germ theory. This is something of a revelation for me.

Despite the 5 extra bottles of hand sanitizer in the back room, and the chemically-scented dish soaps by the sink, and the properly clean kitchen that demonstrated good hygienic practices, once the ball got rolling, not a peep about bad bacteria was overheard.

We did eventually talk a bit about bacteria, and so-called germs and my disdain for anti-bacterial products and chemically-laden scents and their detriment to the cheesemaking process, not to mention general good health.

But in practice it was pretty clear the bad germs propaganda was not fully instilled in this clever group of girl and ladies (and our one token man who chivalrously helped me with all the heavy lifting).

Right into the cheese pot went many pairs of bare hands to stir the curd without a moment’s hesitation. I was immediately and very pleasantly surprised.

Then, because of mistakes in one group, and excesses in another, the curds of many pots became communal. A dozen pair of hands, not one that had been scientifically anti-bacterialized (I brought my own soap, which they all used, and several raved about) salting and pouring and forming and pressing.

And while I could see in my mind’s eye my mother’s face pinching into a look of mounting disgust, all I could think was, “This is so awesome!”

Teaching beginning cheesemaking has one crucial thing in common with teaching adults beginning a foreign language: The biggest hindrance to success is fear of failure. And, constant failure is the only way to learn how to do it.

Our education system, in addition to forcing on children such complete nonsense as germ theory, instills in them very early on to harbor a fear of failure.

If I could re-educate around one axiom the entirity of the Western schooling system it would be to learn to fail first, so you get good and used to it.

Take the shame out of failure and watch as the love of learning soars.

Here’s my ‘All you need to know about learning in 3 easy lessons’:

Lesson 1: Fail.
Lesson 2: Learn from those failures!
Lesson 3: Rinse & Repeat!!

And now, let’s learn a thing or two about the failure of the modern pseudoscience known as germ theory from Dr. Nancy Appleton in her book “The Curse of Louis Pasteur: Why Medicine is not healing a diseased world” as reported in the interview/synopsis by:
Lies Are Unbekoming Substack.
https://open.substack.com/pub/unbekoming/p/the-curse-of-louis-pasteur?utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email

Version 1.0.0

“You’ve spent your entire life believing a story about disease that simply isn’t true. Every time you’ve reached for antibiotics, every time you’ve worried about “catching” something, every time you’ve surrendered your health to medical authority, you’ve been operating under a fundamental misconception that has shaped Western medicine for over a century. Louis Pasteur’s germ theory – the idea that we’re sterile beings under constant attack from external microbes – didn’t just become medical dogma by accident. It triumphed through a combination of political connections, self-promotion, and what we now know from Pasteur’s own hidden notebooks was scientific fraud. The theory promised simple solutions: identify the germ, develop the drug, conquer the disease. But here’s the thing about simple stories – they’re usually wrong.”

This isn’t just an academic dispute between dead scientists. Right now, your body is maintaining thousands of delicate balances – pH, blood sugar, mineral ratios, temperature – through feedback loops of staggering complexity. Walter Cannon called this state homeostasis, building on Claude Bernard’s revelation that we don’t actually live in the external world but in our own internal fluid environment. When this internal environment stays balanced, you have energy, clarity, resistance to disease. But modern life assaults this balance relentlessly: 150 pounds of sugar per year disrupting blood glucose, chronic stress flooding your system with hormones meant for brief emergencies, thousands of chemicals your liver was never designed to process, processed foods that can’t be properly digested. Your digestive enzymes fail, partially digested food leaks into your bloodstream, your immune system exhausts itself fighting food particles instead of threats, and those helpful microorganisms in your body start changing into forms associated with disease. The symptoms you develop – the arthritis, diabetes, chronic fatigue, cancer – aren’t random attacks by germs. They’re the predictable result of your internal environment breaking down.

And this is where the curse becomes clear: by convincing us that disease comes from outside, that our health is beyond our control, that only medical experts with their drugs can save us, the germ theory has robbed us of our power. We’ve become a society spending over a trillion dollars yearly on healthcare while ranking dead last among developed nations in health outcomes. We’re first in infant mortality, cancer rates, chronic disease, and pharmaceutical consumption. The medical system excels at crisis intervention but has completely failed at prevention because it’s been looking in the wrong direction for over a century.”

I have not read this particular book, but these quotes repeat what a great many experts have been publishing for as long as Pasteur has been relentlessly promoted in their stead. They have been, and continue to be, buried beneath pseudoscientific propaganda in order to sell a lot of chemical crap to the public.

It’s been through reading some of these works combined with nearly 15 years of cheesemaking I’ve come to realize a few crucial truths:

*Air-born ‘viruses’ have never been scientifically proven to exist.*

*Trying to abolish bacteria to create a ‘sterile’ environment does more harm than good.*

*Fear of contagion is FAR more contagious than the so-called contagious diseases.*

    I’ll let the experts argue amongst themselves all the fine details of the various theories which were buried so that Pasteur could dominate public health for over a century.

    I know enough from my limited research what is necessary to lead a happier, healthier life and I’m so pleased to know that while the general public may go through the motions to pay some lipservice to germ theory, in all practicality, a lot of them don’t really believe it either.

    The modern-day experts trying to unbury Pasteur’s contemporary critics and practices are pushing through the censorship and making life happier and healthier for a lot of folks. If you want to learn more, check out some of their work, loads of it is available for free.

    An easy place to start would be with Mike Stone:
    “In the past—even as recently as 2017, when I first began investigating—there was very little material available for those questioning the mainstream narrative, and what did exist was often difficult to find or access. Today, however, there is an abundance of resources—dedicated websites, books, podcasts, documentaries, Substacks, and more. As I noted three years ago, this growing community of independent thinkers has been reexamining long-held scientific assumptions—not only in virology, but also in bacteriology, immunology, genetics, and even vitamins/nutrition. By critically analyzing old research and questioning foundational claims, people are rediscovering logic and genuine inquiry in place of rote belief. This movement reflects a collective return to critical thinking, open discussion, and the pursuit of truth through shared investigation—a modern renaissance of independent science.”

    https://viroliegy.com/2025/10/02/antiviral-ep-1-virology-a-critique-of-its-foundations

    And many more . . .

    I Have a Dream!

    I have a dream that when asked where I sell my delicious locally-produced raw milk cheeses my response will be one of beaming pride instead of deflated frown.

    Instead of–“Sorry, I can’t sell them, it’s illegal”–in my dream I reply instead:

    “I have an assitant who delivers our homemade cheeses twice a week to the community Farmstead Store in town. You probably should call her and make arrangements because she always sells out by lunch. We have Farmstead Stores in every small town in our region who send out drivers to exchange with one another. Our free-range pork and our neighbor’s beef sell out even faster than the cheeses. They’ve also got year-round fresh produce there, eggs of course, honey, wine, kombucha–all sourced and produced from within 15 miles.”

    Instead of my dream, in my reality I get asked, “Can’t you get a license?”

    No! No, of course I cannot get a license! Instead of dream-speak I get the nightmare reality.

    It’s not only impossible to get a license for a home cheesemaking operation, it just happens to also be against my philosophy.

    “An agorist is one who applies the principles of libertarianism consistently through counter-economic practice. They aim, that is, to bring about the voluntaryist society not through political (in)action but through direct counter-economic action.”

    No, I cannot get a license. Since we are in the South, I wonder if another appeal might be in order?

    Imagine if instead of ‘philosophy’ I said ‘religion’. So my reply becomes:

    “Appealing to State and Federal officials for what I, and my neighbors, choose to purchase for consumption is against a fundamental aspect of my religion which preaches the gospel that God chooses my food through my tastebuds.”

    “This is not a trivial point. A free society is not merely an ideal society to be philosophically formulated, but a process to be enacted through conscious action. Thus, the idea of separating the free society from the actions that free human beings must (or must not) engage in is self-contradictory. What else defines a free society except for those actions?” James Corbett

    “Furthermore,” I continue in my dream space, “I’m allergic to paperwork and authoritarian nincompoops and I refuse to spend what little time I have left on this spinning green insane asylum kissing the arses of Velvetta-eating officials mansplaining me what I must do to make safe cheese.”

    Also from Corbett
    In “An Agorist Primer” Konkin explains:
    “We see that nearly every action is regulated, taxed, prohibited, or subsidized. Much of this Statism — for it is only the State that wields such power — is so contradictory that little ever gets done. If you cannot obey the (State’s) laws and charge less than [because of “Fair Trade” laws], more than [because of “Anti-Trust” laws], or the same as [because of laws against cartels] your competitor, what do you do? You go out of business or you break the law. Suppose paying your taxes would drive you out of business? You go out of business — or you break the law. Government laws have no intrinsic relationship with right and wrong or good and evil. Historically, most people knew that the royal edicts were for the king’s good, not theirs. People went along with the king because the alternative looked worse. [. . .] But everyone is a resister to the extent that he survives in a society where laws control everything and give contradictory orders. All (non-coercive) human action committed in defiance of the State constitutes the Counter-Economy.”
    In effect, Konkin takes the plight of the modern-day citizen, stuck in a web of ridiculous, contradictory, and impossible-to-follow laws, rules and regulations, and flips it on its head. It is not a source of shame to be acting against the arbitrary whims of the state, but a virtue. Economics is the realm of white markets: legal, licensed, sanctioned and regulated exchanges in the aboveground economy. Counter-economics is everything else: black market and gray market activity either specifically outlawed by the state or not licensed or approved by it.
    People tend to get squeamish when they hear “black market,” but we’re not just talking about gunrunning, counterfeit smuggling or drug dealing here. Any (non-violent) activity that doesn’t have the blessing of the state is counter-economic.

    “Of course, individually, these actions seem unimportant, even trivial. But in combination they drain significant resources away from the clutches of the state and toward the people participating in the actual productive economy. It is estimated that 20% to 30% of Americans fail to report taxable income. In some parts of Latin America it’s closer to 80%. Can you imagine if it were 100%? A few isolated counter-economists acting in a disorganized haphazard faction is a minor inconvenience to the powers-that-shouldn’t-be. Millions of people acting in concert in a deliberate undermining of state authority is a revolution. This is the promise of counter-economics.”

    The quotes that are not in my dream are taken from the following 2 articles by James Corbett, well worth the read.

    https://substack.com/redirect/ba0aa4ad-e65c-49d6-889b-40771af20c61?j=eyJ1IjoiYXBsankifQ.vij_GSi8NAkTixijJIkYbmIMsSylddJaDImehSkL3TQ

    Do you have a dream, too? Care to share?? 😁🤗

    A Tale of Two Cheeses

    This is a repost of a few of my first cheesemaking adventures way back in 2015. I decided to repost it since not only is it Hubby’s favorite, but also because my cheesemaking workshop is right around the corner, so my cheese posts are getting more views lately.

    From the archives:

    I’ve now made nearly two dozen different cheeses. When I started out, my only raw milk source was a five-hour round-trip drive, I was aging them in the veggie drawer of the fridge, and I was following the recipes to the letter.

    I now have an aging fridge packed with cheeses, my raw milk source is at least in the ballpark, I’m creating my own recipes, and I may even spring for a pricey PH-tester. It’s been a long, fun road with a steep learning curve made in a relatively short time, which is what I say about pretty much everything in our adopted rural lifestyle.

    But the best cheese I’ve made so far was the third one I attempted, and it started out as a smelly, rather disgusting potential disaster.

    In our cheese-making class, we were strongly encouraged to take notes on our every hard cheese-making venture and being the diligent student I usually am, I do. This time was no exception.

    Has odd fishy odor” is at the top, middle and end of the third cheese’s entry. I was a bit reluctant to include the less-than-savory details as to why that might be.

    First, a bit of background on my past experiences with stinky cheese. I am no expert, I can’t even call myself a true aficionado, but I’m more cheese-fearless than most, especially most Americans. After all, I did live in France for a while, and spent a few months in Corsica, where I met the only cheese that scared me off.

    The Corsican cheese is quite popular and, being a sensitive traveler attracted to regional specialties, I was anxious to give it a try. I went to the farmers’ market, found the oldest, roughest-looking cheese-monger of all the vendors and marched right up to examine his wares. He looked like an ex-sailor with wrinkled, sun-burnt skin, black patterns on his forearms where I assume tattoos were once legible, and an easy-going, toothless grin. He eyed me as I pretended to know what I was doing. I glanced over his table and tried to make out the curious handwriting to learn what I might be able to pronounce well-enough to order.

    My eyes went right to the group of words I was searching for – traditional Corsican cheese – how easy was that? I felt already triumphant. In my best French, I tell him I want that cheese, and he replies, “Avec ou sans habitants?” At that point I feel certain I saw a glimmering in his eyes. He points down to the sign below the ‘traditional Corsican cheese’ sign, which reads just as he has stated: “AVEC OU SANS HABITANTS.”

    Instead of triumphant, I’m instantly befuddled. I had no idea what that meant, and the question so baffled me I thought I clearly did not understand. I said quite sincerely, “I don’t understand.” But, in retrospect, I think I kinda did, I just didn’t want to believe it. “With or without inhabitants,” it was clear and easy to understand even for a non-French-speaker.  This was not a linguistic block I was having, it was a reality check.

    At that moment my market companion attempted to come to my rescue. She didn’t speak English, but understood my dilemma apparently without words exchanged, being French and rather snobbish about her cheeses. “Inhabitants …,” she repeated to my complete horror, “as in maggots.” After which she pinched up her nose slightly and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head, like she was trying to reassure me – ”Don’t worry, on the mainland we don’t eat that sort of cheese.”

    Maggots, I’ve since discovered, is just one of may unsavory methods of ripening, there are many, like ‘cheese mites’ and they are still deliberately used to ripen certain cheeses in various parts of the world, like Casu martzu – Wikipedia.

    Wiki image of maggot-ripened cheese

    So, back to my Cheese No. 3. The first two times I followed two different farmstead cheese recipes to the letter, wrapped them to age, and made my notes, nice and clean, without any question of potential perfection in outcome. This third time I found a recipe online that was so vague in steps, measurements and temperatures, I had to wing it a bit for the first time.

    To make matters worse, this particular day had a pronounced increase in kitchen traffic. After I’d muddled through the recipe and began the pressing process, Handy Hubby had a dramatic building challenge of the electrical variety that required him to tear into the wall in the vicinity of the press. He’d just been on the roof cleaning up mice nests, and they’d managed to chew through some of the wires, which he now had to replace.

    I wondered momentarily if that was something I should include in my notes. Nah, best forgotten, I decided.

    But I could not forget, and what I’d hoped would be a quick in-and-out project around the press turned into an hour, going on who knew how many more. With Hubby going in and out, meant the dogs are following him. They think this is a game and don’t understand Hubby’s irritation as he curses the mice only under his breath … and … is sweating through his T-shirt. Right over the press!  

    Tori and Papi, our dogs at the time, who were often guilty of playing games around the cheese press.

    Finally, the straw to break this camel’s back – I glance over from the sink as Tori’s tail brushes over the press. Tori is our Dane-Mastiff and about 6 feet from nose to tail tip. In a flash I imagine it snake-like engulfing the entire cheese.

    “Stop, stop, oh my god, stop the pressing!”

    I neither wanted to perceive myself as excessively anal nor offend Hubby’s already delicate mood any further, but my stomach was churning and my mind screaming at me for what I was allowing to happen to that poor cheese. I immediately disassembled the press, moved it to the office, and, with trepidation, examined the cheese, slowly unwrapping it from the muslin.

    Just as I had suspected, dry-wall debris, dog hair, and who knew what other invisible entities had found their way onto the surface of Cheese No. 3.

    In a moment of panic and disgust, I nearly threw it in the garbage. Then I thought, no, wait, chill, this will be the perfect testing ground. I’ll continue to do everything wrong, according to all things science and sensibility, and see what happens.

    So, I stopped following the vague directions and followed instinct instead. What would the Corsican cheese-monger have done, I repeated to myself as I decided not to wrap it, to leave it at room temperature uncovered for days, then put it in with the others to age in the drawer of the fridge.

    Not only did it look completely different from the others, it also smelled completely different. The fishy smell had stabilized, mold started growing on the air-dried, uncovered rind, and the texture softened inside until it began to sort of pooch out around the middle like love handles.

    I felt some encouragement then, thinking, “Might good cheeses be like good dogs and begin to resemble their masters?”

    A couple weeks more and it began to look and smell so delicious the temptation was starting to weigh on me. It was becoming irresistible. On Christmas Eve, I could wait no longer. The vague directions said it would be ready in two months, but my instincts were saying, ”Dig in, woman!”

    The luckiest mistake: Cheese #3

    So I did, and it was delicious! I am now convinced the best cheeses were discovered quite by accident and our ancestors turn over in their graves every time we get squeamish over a few dog hairs or even . . . maggots.

    The only problem is, I have no idea how to imitate it.

    The latest cheese ‘failure’ supposed to be a pepper jack– story and tasting coming soon!

    Fast forward to last week, October 2025, and we have another crazy cheese mistake, which may turn out to be just as delicious!

    Here’s the ‘pepper jack’ after further aging abuses, looking and smelling full of potential!

    Only time will tell.