My friend Laura and I were Gchatting during work hours the other day (!) and stumbled upon the subject of yogurt, plain to be specific.  Consumed in huge amounts by different cultures worldwide, we seem to be the only ones who haven’t caught on.  The French respect it to the point of selling it in – gasp – cute little highly reusable glass or terra-cotta jars!  I use it as a poached fish sauce, instead of mayo on practically anything (whole milk Greek-style makes a killer red grape chicken salad, see recipe below), and, being of Indian heritage, douse my entire plate should I be dining on dal or curry (which I also frequently make with yogurt) because it makes it all taste better. 

We eventually discovered that several men in our lives had at some point been sent out for a tub of plain, only to return with vanilla.  Or worse, Ba-nilla.  That’s banana-vanilla.  I watched someone eat a bowl of rice, dal and Ba-nilla yogurt to try and convince me that it wasn’t bad.  Just cause it costs 40 cents a serving doesn’t mean you can cheapen it in front of me like that.  There is no substitute for plain yogurt, and no culinary use for the pre-flavored stuff.  I’ll pick up a six-pack of blueberry or peach on occasion for snacking purposes, but if there’s no plain yogurt in my fridge I definitely compromise my options.  That’s why I have three different quarts  in my fridge right now: whole milk European-style, 2% Greek and regular fat-free.  And this little container of sheep’s milk yogurt from Murray’s Cheese at the Grand Central Market I’ve been meaning to try.    

 I also like to make it myself.  I love that I can go to the farmers market, buy amazing grass-fed happy milk, and use the yogurt I have left over from the last batch which also came from amazing grass-fed happy milk to make new, perfect yogurt.  When we opened my mom’s Indian-fusion restaurant in the summer of 2008, we found the kitchen quickly burned through $25 of yogurt daily.  We had to make a ton of raita, marinate the chicken tikka, make lassis and still have leftovers in case someone ordered a side.  It made perfect sense to make it ourselves in a 5-gallon tub.  I say with probably more pride than necessary that from then on we served the precise same yogurt made from the last batch’s cultures, and it was really delicious.    

 A gallon of milk makes a gallon of yogurt, so plan your container size accordingly.  Bring the milk to a simmer in a pot (small bubbles rolling on top), stirring frequently, then turn off the pot and leave it be for about half an hour.  This step kills the bacteria vying for the room the beneficial acidophilus needs to take up in order to turn the milk into yogurt.  Many recipes will illustrate this whole song and dance about thermometers and double boilers and scare you away from even trying.  Bring to a simmer, keep stirring, turn off heat, leave alone.  11 words.   Don’t overthink it, people did this thousands of years ago without newfangled gadgets.

 While the milk is cooling, wash whatever container you’re using (the plastic tub the original yogurt came in works fine) in hot, soapy water and dry.  When the milk reaches room temperature, stir in the few tablespoons of yogurt you reserved until dissolved.  Pour the mixture into your container, and stick in the oven.  Don’t turn on the oven.  Don’t open the oven.  Leave the oven and its contents alone for 6 hours, or overnight, then promptly refrigerate and use within a week. 

Roast Chicken Salad with Red Grapes

Makes 1  1 /2 cups, or 2 sandwiches' worth

1 cup leftover roast chicken, roughly chopped or shredded

1/3 cup chopped cucumber

1/3 cup halved red grapes

½ cup Greek yogurt

2 TBS fresh chopped dill

2 TBS fresh lemon juice

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Combine everything, refrigerate for 30 minutes and serve.  You can add curry powder if you want to beat that poor old fad to death.  I recommend using a way, way cooler teaspoon or so of finely ground smoked black peppercorn instead.