Cheesemongers!

I went round to my friend H's for dinner last night; H has just sent off the first draft of her thesis to her supervisor, and is thus taking advantage of the wait for comments to make bread, cook, etc. That morning, she had decided to try yoghurt, except it curdled. Nothing daunted - or rather, somewhat averse to pour several litres of spoiled milk down the sink without a fight - she resorted to Google, and found an exciting page on making your own cheese. So after a trip to the local fabric shop to get something approximating to a cheese cloth, and a bit of further cooking, she was able to present me with a nameless curd cheese (in German terms, very close to Quark), and a ricotta which she'd made with the whey. Needless to say, I was very impressed, and while part of me wonders about the sanity of home cheesemaking and had to be refrained from cracking Archers jokes, I am tempted to give the marscapone a go.

(no subject)

Have just been listening to "On the Ropes" on BBC R 4, with Terry Pratchett talking about his Alzheimers diagnosis, and am now feeling decidedly sniffly, not just because it's terribly sad, but because I am so filled with admiration for the way he's taking it - with humour, courage, refusal to be made helplessly miserable, and a good deal of gumption (you can tell he's Granny Weatherwax's creator).

JH: And yet you must have bad moments - dark nights of the soul.
TP: Yes, of course I do. But we all have those, anyway. And then you get up in the morning.

I'm slightly in awe of him, actually - I wish I had half his guts and hopefulness.