Yo! Gurt.

I have yogurt guilt. No, not because of the factory oppressed cows or the agricultural impact of higher-foodchain consumption or even the rural streams choked with commercial dairy run-off (e.g. cowplop). Well, maybe a little now that I spell it all out... But no, the bulk of my yogurt guilt is all about The Plastic.

My breakfast of choice, which after years of Camelot/Indiana Jones level questing is really the only food combo that I'll reliably eat that will not cause a cascade failure of chemical betrayal (sugar, protein, endorphins- it's quite a morass)... is a piece of buttered gluten-free toast and a half cup of greek yogurt with honey. Because I'm thrifty, I eat the Trader Joe's house brand of greek yogurt which is sold only in pint tubs. So, I end up using almost two plastic pint tubs per week. Because I live in Portland, these can be recycled at the curb in a practically effortless process, but still. Recycling plastic is better than chucking it straight into the bin, but unlike paper and metals (don't get me started on glass) there is a limit to how many times it can be reworked. Eventually it becomes unrecyclable and off it goes to live its silent, brooding half-life in some landfill. Hence the guilt.

I've been meaning to get around to redeeming myself on this point for a while now, and after some halting attempts and a failure or two, I have finally succeeded in Making My Own Yogurt. Not only is it cheaper (roughly half the cost), organic, and all fresh and superior tasting, but most importantly I can buy milk in paper cartons and dispense with Yogurt Plastic Guilt forever! Ta Da!

I was a bit trepidatious about the process, as my last attempt resulted in an overly sour, slippery, ropey concoction which both puzzled and repelled me. Also, I was throwing it together in the midst of an already busy and scattered day, and I didn't have a working thermometer of any kind. Turns out this is exactly the sort of situation that works to my advantage.

First I microwaved 3 1/2 cups of organic milk, hoping to bring it to a boil. When I couldn't tell if it was boiling and became afeared of the rumored "superboiling" effect, I gave up and washed the pot I was trying to avoid washing so that I could finish up on the stovetop like a respectable human being.

Next I let it cool to 115 degrees, except that as previously remarked I did not have an actual thermometer, so naturally rampant googling ensued under the assumption that there were other methods to approximate water temperatures. This site was particularly unhelpful. And need I say that I am always surprised at what I find when googling?

The best I could get out of the so-called "world wide" web was that the appropriate temperature for bathwater is between 99 and 104 degrees. Since I am keen on bath temperatures beyond the tolerance of most other humans I know, I figured that 115 must be somewhere past "Ow, ow, ok I guess it needs some more cold water" but still tolerable to a bare hand. After pouring hot milk over my knuckles a few times, I felt okay moving on to the INCUBATION STAGE!

Which is pretty much pouring your slightly-cooled milk over a couple starter tablespoons of store-bought yogurt and then putting it in a cooler with a quart jar of boiling water to hold the ambient temp at 110 degrees or so (also known as Perfect Bath Water!)

At this point I recommend spending the next 8 hours wrapping a present, preparing a nice salad, and heading off to the 18th birthday dinner of one of your favorite people to pass the time while your yogurt makes its miraculous transformation.

When you return, you'll want to perfect the final product by straining it through a coffee filter (keep the whey, it's good for you) in order to create a thick Greek-style yogurt.

I am really unreasonably happy to have succeeded in this project. It is so easy that I've almost made myself more ashamed of all those plastic tubs that I could've avoided. But mostly happy!