D r Feelgood knew it. When you mix milk and alcohol, you roll the dice. Their 1979 hit Milk and Alcohol recounts the after effects of an evening on the milk and Kahlua at a John Lee Hooker gig. The night turned sour when they were pulled over by the police as they sped away from the gig early, disappointed at the Blues legend’s performance (“Main attraction dead on his feet, black man rhythm with a white boy beat”). Having named our own magazine after a sublime but divisive hot milk and rum cocktail, we felt a duty to shed some light on this uneasy union. Where it’s gone horribly wrong, who’s got it right and a taste of its future.
When things turn sour
The 1826 Eggnog Riot was surely milk and alcohol’s nadir. Cadets at the United States Military Academy at West Point responded to a crackdown on drinking by smuggling in large quantities of whisky for their traditional Christmas Eve Eggnog (to mix with cream and whisked eggs). The riot which ensued – also known as The Grog Mutiny – involved more than 70 cadets, lasted well into Christmas Day and resulted in officers being assaulted, the destruction of the barracks, and the courts martial of 19 cadets and one soldier. Classmates testifying in their defence included Robert E.Lee and future President of the Confederate States of America, Jefferson Davis.
It may not always end in rioting, but today’s bartenders will tell you that using dairy in cocktails has its own hazards. One wrong move and the customer leaves with an unexpected mouthful of curds and whey. The problem is that dairy products are water and oil emulsions and introducing them to acids such as citrus can cause curdling. Harold McGee, a New York Times columnist who writes on the chemistry of cooking, says curdling occurs when the pH of, for example, milk drops to below 5.5 – causing the proteins to coagulate. Nearly all dairy products are prone to this, but by sticking with fresh, high-fat products (cream not milk) and adding the dairy to the mix last, your chances are improved.
The problem is that occasionally people make or order a curdled cocktail purposely. Surprisingly, many variations on the theme exist – see the Cement Mixer (Baileys Irish Cream layered onto lime juice) and the Brain Haemorrhage (peach schnapps, Baileys and grenadine).
Cream of the crop
Today, the poster boy for milk and booze is the White Russian. Its mix of milk or cream, vodka and coffee liqueur may be too sweet and simple for cocktail purists, but its role as The Dude’s drink of choice in the Coen Brothers’ slacker classic The Big Lebowski has assured it cult status. Now, at Lebowski Fests across the US, the movie’s fans gather to bowl and drink vast quantities of White Russians, with many attendees coming dressed as White Russians.
Hoping to capitalise on the healthy perception of milky booze, 19th-century brewers invented milk stout by adding milk sugar lactose to their beer.
Dedication, no question, but not on a par with the people of Kyrgyzstan who were so keen on their boozy dairy that they named their capital city after the paddle used to mix it. Koumiss is a fermented drink traditionally made from horse milk in Central Asia (or camel’s milk in Mongolia). Bishkek (Kyrgyzstan’s capital) is the paddle used to churn the fermenting milk – that’s how important the drink is in the national culture. Fermented dairy preserves, can enhance flavour and can even have probiotics with health benefits.
Hoping to capitalise on the healthy perception of milky booze, 19th-century brewers invented milk stout by adding milk sugar lactose to their beer. While its nutritional value was dubious (and in the UK they were told to remove any reference to milk in the 1940s), they did create a sweet, flavourful stout, which has enjoyed a recent renaissance, particularly among US craft brewers.
Vodka distilled from milk – the logical conclusion? Amy Freeborn investigates
What is a dairy farmer to do with the milk proteins left over in the process of making his award-winning cheese? The unlikely, but very real, answer is: make vodka from it! Amid all this talk of drink and dairy, Black Cow Vodka seems to have arrived at the natural and logical conclusion.
Black Cow is the world’s first and only vodka made from milk and nothing else. Farmer Jason Barber and his home-brewing enthusiast neighbour Paul ‘Archie’ Archard developed the idea a few years ago and have now been happily, ‘all consumingly’, trading for more than two years.
The idea mirrors Siberian araka, distilled from fermented yak’s milk by Siberian tribes, and was sparked by a comment made by some Polish workers on Jason’s farm. As Archie explains: “We got really interested in the concept and set about working out how we could do it. Following a little experimentation we had this eureka moment when we thought: ‘this is really something!’”
Amid the rolling hills and rich pastures of West Dorset, upon which Jason’s herd of 250 cows graze, the Black Cow Vodka production process goes something like this: milk is split into curds and whey; the curds (which contain the fat) go to make Barber’s 1833 Cheddar, winner of the World Cheese Awards Cheddar Trophy in 2012.
The whey, which contains sugar, is fermented into beer up to 5% ABV, but, “It’s not something you’d like to drink,” Archie says. That milky beer is then put through a still and comes out at 96% ABV. Then, he explains, “We blend and filter it, using a special, secret process, and that brings it back down to 40%.”
The result is a smooth vodka with a creamy finish. “It’s a novel idea,” Archie admits, “but the proof is in the pudding.” Or, the drinking. “We ask people to taste it first, just over ice, with a little bit of extra water – like you would with a whisky – we find that’s a really lovely way of judging it. It opens up the spirit and you can really taste the flavour.
“Then we tell them it’s made from milk and they say, ‘That’s incredible.’”
Dismiss any preconceptions about milky aftertastes or curdling. Black Cow Vodka works neat, or just as well with traditional mixers, such as tonic, plus it makes a “superb martini”, Archie says. Mix with olives and brine for a Dirty Cow, or with lemon zest for a Twisted Cow.
Better still, pair it with its fraternal twin, Barber’s 1833 Cheddar. “The combination of taking a bite of the cheese and then a sip of the vodka to cleanse the palate …,” Archie trails off, in remembered enjoyment. “We very much look at our vodka from a culinary point of view; as an ingredient,” he adds.
“That’s why we’re not going to muck around with flavoured vodka or variations of the brand. We have a unique selling point, and we’re not going to do anything else but concentrate on what we’re doing, and doing it the best we can.”
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