yellower, the better) have always been the measure of milk quality, and even today farmers are paid more for more
butterfat.
Homogenization forcefully blends the milk and cream, so they never separate. Devised in France around 1900 to emulsify margarine,
homogenization pumps milk at high pressure through a fine mesh, reducing its fats to tiny particles. Industrial milk (and
even cream) are homogenized during or after pasteurization.
In the United States, homogenization became common soon after pasteurization, largely because it solved two practical problems
for the dairy industry. The first was the inconvenient separation of the milk and cream. With pasteurization it was possible
to ship milk long distances, but the cream rose in transit, which meant the most valuable part of the milk— the fat— was unevenly
distributed from one customer to another. Homogenization spreads the cream throughout the milk, so everyone gets a share.
The second problem was cosmetic. After pasteurization, dead white blood cells and bacteria form a sludge that sinks to the
bottom of the milk. Homogenization spreads this unsightly mass throughout the milk and makes it disappear.
For many years after its introduction, many Americans declined to buy homogenized milk. "Skeptical consumers were disturbed
both by the change in flavor and the absence of the cream line at the top of the bottle," writes Schmid in his milk history.
But dairy companies persisted with a campaign to win the public over, and by the 1950s, most milk was homogenized.
Homogenization is entirely unnecessary. It's also ruinous for flavor and texture. It breaks up the delicate fats, producing
rancid flavors and causing milk to sour more quickly. According to McGee, it takes twice as long to whip homogenized cream,
because the fat particles are smaller and more thickly coated with milk protein. I would only add that unhomogenized whipped
cream is noticeably more delicious. The best cheeses, too, are made with unhomogenized milk. Happily, unhomogenized milk is
perfectly legal, and a few smaller dairies still sell it, sometimes labeled "cream top" or "cream line." If you find that
whole milk with cream on top is too rich to drink straight, just pour off the cream and put it on apple pie.
I Describe the Virtues of Raw Milk
BERNARR MACFADDEN WAS A body builder of the rippling-chest variety you see in old comics. Born in 1868, he was a sickly child
but overcame his weak start to become a champion of outdoor activity and fitness. Like many reinvented Americans, he changed
his name (choosing a funny spelling) and transformed his body by lifting weights. Macfadden kept fit by walking the twenty-five
miles from his house in Nyack to New York City— barefoot. In a long, flamboyant career, he became rich and famous selling
exercise equipment and publishing fitness manuals, often using his own splendid physique to illustrate poses akin to Greek
statuary. At the age of sixty-five— if pictures don't lie— Macfadden had the sort of body readers of Men's Health dream of: a hulking, inverted-pyramid torso atop narrow hips and bulging thighs. Macfadden attributed his fine form to raw
milk.
In 1924, Macfadden published The Miracle of Milk: How to Use the Milk Diet Scientifically at Home. Having studied nineteenth-century European milk cures, he began to treat people with grass-fed, whole raw milk. He found it
useful for a range of conditions from neuralgia to bronchitis to heart disease, but he was particularly enthusiastic about
milk's ability to help the scrawny build muscle and the flabby lose fat. He gushes about the "plump cheeks," "firm and shapely
breasts," muscle tone, and symmetry of patients who took his milk cure, which involved drinking two to six quarts of raw milk
daily.
Raw milk has modern fans, too. A surprising number of commercial dairy farmers prefer it. According to a 1999 survey in Hoard's Dairyman, 60 percent of dairy
butterfat.
Homogenization forcefully blends the milk and cream, so they never separate. Devised in France around 1900 to emulsify margarine,
homogenization pumps milk at high pressure through a fine mesh, reducing its fats to tiny particles. Industrial milk (and
even cream) are homogenized during or after pasteurization.
In the United States, homogenization became common soon after pasteurization, largely because it solved two practical problems
for the dairy industry. The first was the inconvenient separation of the milk and cream. With pasteurization it was possible
to ship milk long distances, but the cream rose in transit, which meant the most valuable part of the milk— the fat— was unevenly
distributed from one customer to another. Homogenization spreads the cream throughout the milk, so everyone gets a share.
The second problem was cosmetic. After pasteurization, dead white blood cells and bacteria form a sludge that sinks to the
bottom of the milk. Homogenization spreads this unsightly mass throughout the milk and makes it disappear.
For many years after its introduction, many Americans declined to buy homogenized milk. "Skeptical consumers were disturbed
both by the change in flavor and the absence of the cream line at the top of the bottle," writes Schmid in his milk history.
But dairy companies persisted with a campaign to win the public over, and by the 1950s, most milk was homogenized.
Homogenization is entirely unnecessary. It's also ruinous for flavor and texture. It breaks up the delicate fats, producing
rancid flavors and causing milk to sour more quickly. According to McGee, it takes twice as long to whip homogenized cream,
because the fat particles are smaller and more thickly coated with milk protein. I would only add that unhomogenized whipped
cream is noticeably more delicious. The best cheeses, too, are made with unhomogenized milk. Happily, unhomogenized milk is
perfectly legal, and a few smaller dairies still sell it, sometimes labeled "cream top" or "cream line." If you find that
whole milk with cream on top is too rich to drink straight, just pour off the cream and put it on apple pie.
I Describe the Virtues of Raw Milk
BERNARR MACFADDEN WAS A body builder of the rippling-chest variety you see in old comics. Born in 1868, he was a sickly child
but overcame his weak start to become a champion of outdoor activity and fitness. Like many reinvented Americans, he changed
his name (choosing a funny spelling) and transformed his body by lifting weights. Macfadden kept fit by walking the twenty-five
miles from his house in Nyack to New York City— barefoot. In a long, flamboyant career, he became rich and famous selling
exercise equipment and publishing fitness manuals, often using his own splendid physique to illustrate poses akin to Greek
statuary. At the age of sixty-five— if pictures don't lie— Macfadden had the sort of body readers of Men's Health dream of: a hulking, inverted-pyramid torso atop narrow hips and bulging thighs. Macfadden attributed his fine form to raw
milk.
In 1924, Macfadden published The Miracle of Milk: How to Use the Milk Diet Scientifically at Home. Having studied nineteenth-century European milk cures, he began to treat people with grass-fed, whole raw milk. He found it
useful for a range of conditions from neuralgia to bronchitis to heart disease, but he was particularly enthusiastic about
milk's ability to help the scrawny build muscle and the flabby lose fat. He gushes about the "plump cheeks," "firm and shapely
breasts," muscle tone, and symmetry of patients who took his milk cure, which involved drinking two to six quarts of raw milk
daily.
Raw milk has modern fans, too. A surprising number of commercial dairy farmers prefer it. According to a 1999 survey in Hoard's Dairyman, 60 percent of dairy
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