Bitch on the Blog

December 18, 2016


Filed under: inexcusable,Kitchen,Observations — bitchontheblog @ 16:45
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Don’t think me mad. I am not. Or no madder than to be expected once you have left the relative safety of your mother’s womb.

I don’t know why, and this is why I am throwing myself at your collective shoulder, I do have a distinct horror of curdled milk. A fine cheese maker I’d have made.

In decades I haven’t curdled milk but this minute I did.  And before Looney and any scientists among you say anything, I know it’s NOT me who curdled the milk. The milk curdled all by itself.  Shows you what an awful position to be in when you are the middleman. The facilitator. The one with the pan. The milk. And the means to heat it.

Gravely and in grieving, yours,




  1. just last week I put milk in my coffee and it curdled. Blech

    Cheesemaking is different, the curds are large and silky

    Comment by Kylie — December 18, 2016 @ 21:35 | Reply

    • Yes, Kylie, as so often in life there is a perfectly simple explanation why things go wrong.

      Like a cat I always sniff things when I suspect they might be on the cusp of going off. Hence my surprise. Reminded me of my first experiment in my grandmother’s kitchen. I was maybe four max. I mixed something and then – those were the days before fridges and freezers – had the mind blowing inventor’s genius to put the plate with its “mix” outside the window onto the sill. The idea was to freeze my concoction, and what better than in midwinter with Siberian temperatures? It worked. Solid. Unfortunately not edible. To this day I can taste my unpalatable disappointment.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 19, 2016 @ 10:10 | Reply

  2. This sounds to me like something worthy of some Freudian psycho analysis, but I am not very good at such things.

    Comment by Looney — December 18, 2016 @ 23:28 | Reply

    • I don’t think we need to employ Freud here. He reduces everything to one of the basic human workings. Give me Jung any day. With Jung you can dream. No wonder the two of them fell out eventually.

      Whilst the above incident did indeed happen – leaving me momentarily speechless since I expect my life to run smoothly – I snatched it from the toothless jaws of time and, shamelessly, fashioned it into one of my opaque metaphors. The figurative often so evocative. Don’t say I don’t know how to amuse myself.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — December 19, 2016 @ 10:00 | Reply

  3. Curdled milk…. yeuk…. I too sniff the milk in bottle before using it… slightest hint of sour and down the sink it goes. Mind you, mother used to deliberately curdle milk (beautiful rich, yellow creamy, un pasteurised Guernsey milk) to make “cream cheese”.

    Comment by magpie11 — December 19, 2016 @ 13:14 | Reply

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