Archive for December, 2013

Hi again, fellow Fat Heads.

Tom and Chareva and the girls made it into Springfield this past weekend for visits and the Naughton family Christmas dinner Monday night, before heading to Chicago on Christmas Eve to see Chareva’s family.  Since they’re still traveling, and I had an interesting addendum to my “Yankee Farm Report,” I figured Tom wouldn’t mind if I temporarily commandeered the Big Chair again.

No politics or economics this time, I promise!

Anyway, this past Monday morning, I got a call from Linda — our endlessly patient farm owner where our beef cows and meat chickens are boarded.  It went like this:

Linda: Jerry, you know how you always said that one of your two cows always was fuller-bodied than her sister?

Me: Yeah — Tartare.  What’s up?

Linda: Well, she had a calf last night!

Me: HOLY $%*!

This was not expected news, and complicated from several angles.  When we purchased the cows and brought them to Linda’s, we thought they were too young to be fertile.  Cows have about a 9 month gestation period, however, and when we did the math we figure she must’ve just been bred within a week or so prior to getting her.  Another issue was these are beef cows — they were bought in the late Spring with the initial intention of having them ready to be butchered next Fall, but they were so big that we’d moved that up to probably the end of January. We’ve got four other families cow-sharing on this deal, so that means everyone has to agree on how to play this new development.

The most immediate issue, however, and one that could make the rest moot, was that cows aren’t supposed to have calves in the middle of winter, especially on what was one of the coldest days of this season.  Linda’s husband saw Tartare laying in the field Monday morning and thought she’d died, then saw the calf laying on the ground and thought they were both dead.  Once they figured out both were still alive, they got the calf (and then Tartare to follow) into a barn, but she was very cold, not moving around, and Linda didn’t think she’d nursed, which is critical.

I headed over right away, picking up some colostrum from the farm store in case she was going to need to be bottle-fed.  I was able to hold her up (cold and messy work in my office clothes) while Linda worked a bottle into her mouth, but she wasn’t suckling or swallowing.  At that point, Linda thought it looked like maybe she did have milk already in her, but it was hard to tell.  We got her to lay upright a bit, and I had to leave, but I told Linda I’d come back early afternoon with a couple of heat lamps she thought might help.

When I got back (with The Wife), the calf was stiff and on her side again —


We got more heat lamps set up, and I was able to pick the calf up and get the straw under her and around her. She didn’t seem out of the woods, but was moving her head around some more.


Linda kept checking on calve and cow, and fortunately the weather warmed up quickly over the last couple of days. The Oldest Son, my brother-in-law, and I went out today, and things are looking much better. The calf is walking around in the yard behind the barn, nursing, and Tartare is watching over her closely.

Everyone in on our cow-share deal seems pretty happy with the unexpected disruption in our beef supply. So far, given that she had a successful, unassisted, healthy birth, it’s looking like Tartare may get a role change from beef cow to breeder.

In the meantime, the reason The Oldest Son and brother-in-law were with me today was because the events of the week switched a “we ought to maybe do that” project into a “we need to get this done NOW” project. There was a hoop structure in the cow’s pasture that the old vinyl cover had disintegrated off of over time. Linda and I had talked about getting a new cover put back on it. Cows are pretty hardy as far as cold temperatures are concerned, but getting wet — from rain or snow — and being in the wind can be deadly. A new calf in the middle of winter introduced a real sense of urgency to the idea.

So we pulled some of the old cover back up —

— which didn’t help much, but it gave our rookie three-man farmhand crew a feel for what we were doing.

Linda had a “new” cover — they’re used billboard vinyls that you can purchase — that the three of us were able to manhandle up and over the structure, then tack down with screws driven through lath strips we wrapped into the bottom seam of the vinyl.

Cows are both curious and bashful by nature, and Linda’s dairy cows and Royale (our more chaste beef cow) kept walking up to the shelter while it was under construction and standing on the vinyl until we’d shoo them away long enough to get a couple more strips screwed down. We were pretty pleased with our work once we got it done…

… And to a cow, add a little straw and this looks just like a Ritz Carlton…

Hope you all had a great Christmas, and best wishes for a Happy New Year!

The Older Brother


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I want to thank The Older Brother for taking over the Fat Head chair while I was away last week. I can always count on him to stir the pot with his posts.

I was in Massachusetts, giving a speech at Springfield College to about 300 students and a dozen or so faculty members. Dr. Richard Wood, the director of the Center for Wellness Education & Research at the college, is a Fat Head fan and set up the event. It was way big fun. The official Q & A session afterwards lasted about 25 minutes, but when the event was over, students lined up to ask me questions one-on-one. So I stuck around another 45 minutes or so.

The college has a highly respected nutrition program, and it was encouraging to talk with students who asked so many intelligent questions. These students aren’t going to go out into the world after graduating and parrot what they’ve been told.  Dr. Wood encourages them to think for themselves and sometimes requires them to argue both sides of a debate. There’s hope for the nutrition world yet.

Anyway, here’s the speech.


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Some months ago, I posted the Kickstarter trailer for a documentary titled Cereal Killers and encouraged people to support the film.  A lot of you did.  I received a nice thanks from Donal O’Neill, the producer, but the thanks belong to everyone who helped get this documentary off the ground.

I’m happy to announce that Cereal Killers has been released.  I watched it last night and thoroughly enjoyed it. To recap, O’Neill became interested in diet and health largely because his father suffered a heart attack in middle age, despite being a lean, muscular athlete who followed the “correct” diet recommended by the so-called experts. After his research convinced him that fat phobia is misguided, O’Neill decided to try a low-carb/high-fat diet for four weeks and track his health markers.

The film is entertaining, informative, and beautifully shot. The expressions on some people’s faces when he tells them what he’s eating in his attempt to avoid heart disease are laugh-out-loud funny.

You can rent it by clicking the RENT button on the screen below.

Yekra Player

Yekra is a revolutionary new distribution network for feature films.

Cereal Killers

The film follows Donal – a lean, fit, seemingly healthy 41 year old man – on a quest to hack his genes and drop dead healthy by avoiding the heart disease and diabetes that has afflicted his family.

Donal’s father Kevin, an Irish gaelic football star from the 1960s, won the first of 2 All Ireland Championships with the Down Senior Football Team in 1960 before the biggest crowd (94,000) ever seen at an Irish sporting event.

When Kevin suffered a heart attack later in life, family and friends were shocked. How does a lean, fit and seemingly healthy man – who has sailed through cardiac stress tests – suddenly fall victim to heart disease?

Can a controversial diet consisting of 70% fat provide the answers?


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Probably didn’t see that coming if you didn’t read it at the end of my last post, eh?

Well, I’m not under any illusion that the ACA is going to do anything its creators, supporters, and apologists ever talked about or promised.  But I do believe it’s got a chance of dramatically shifting Americans back to better health via some of the most dramatic Unintended Consequences in modern economic history.

Unintended Consequences is an actual and pretty self-explanatory economic term.  Like unemployment rising among the  most vulnerable people when the minimum wage is raised, for example.  It wasn’t intended, its degree isn’t necessarily predictable, but it isn’t really a mystery once they show up.  Normally, however, they’re only some fraction of the benefit of the new policy, law, regulation, or what have you.  This whole Obamacare thing is looking to be all about Unintended Consequences.

I’m going to get to how this is going to make for a better, healthier life for you fellow Fat Heads out there, and even more so for those who aren’t, but first I’m going to have to torture you with a quick primer on insurance.  Because even if you have health coverage right now, it’s important to understand that you probably still don’t really have insurance.

What do I mean by that? Let’s consider what true insurance is. It consists of:

1) Some large, definable risk (my house could burn down) within

2) a group of people (50,000 homeowners) that can’t/don’t want to assume the sole financial risk of same, which

3) will occur with some reasonably predictable frequency (100 houses per year in x market)

4) at a reasonably predictable cost to make whole ($175,000 per house)

[3) and 4) are what Actuaries do, and they’re generally incredibly good at it and make great money, kids, so stay in school and study that math!]

So we pretty much know how many times this is going to happen and how much it’s going to cost to rebuild all of those houses — $17,500,000.

The thing nobody knows is — which 175 people out of that 50,000 homeowner group is it going to happen to?  So since none of those 50,000 want to be on the hook to rebuild their $175,000 house (remember, they still have to pay off the mortgage even if the house is nothing but ashes), they all chip in (via premiums) $350 to cover the rebuilding costs, maybe another $120 for admin and overhead, another $20 or so as profit, and there you go — you sleep easy in your $175,000 house in exchange for a $490 annual premium.

How is what most Americans who do have a health insurance policy not really insurance? Here’s a couple of the most blatant distortions from what real insurance is…

Does your homeowner’s insurance cover having your lawn mowed and windows washed?  Of course not.  Those expenses don’t comprise a risk to your financial well-being,  and we know exactly who it’s going to happen to — because it’s pretty much everyone.  If people did have that coverage, it’d be expensive as hell because 1) the cost of administering all of those small transactions would drive the overhead — and your premium — up way over the value of those routine expenses; and 2) with a low deductible or say a $2 co-pay, people would use the services way more often.  But how many people are aghast at the idea of “insurance” not paying for those one or two routine doctor visits a year, or not covering the one or two bottles of pink stuff for little Johnny’s ear infections.  Even though we all know it’s going to happen — to everyone.

[That type of true medical insurance — no-frills, high deductible plan where you cover all of the regular stuff — makes for a very affordable premium and is what Tom had — until the ACA made it illegal.]

Or this — think this phone call ever takes place?:

“Acme Home and Auto, may I help you?”

“Yeah, um, I want to buy an insurance policy on my house.”

“OK, sir, do you know about what your house would cost to replace?”

“About $175,000 I think.”

“Good.  About how many square feet is your house?”

“Well, right now it’s zero.”

“Excuse me, how could you have a $175,000 house with no livable space?”

“Well, it burned down last night.  Say, I’d also like a really low deductible, OK?”

Of course that’s insane.  But it’s not called insane in the health insurance debate — there it’s called a “pre-existing condition.”  We should have a dialogue in this country about how to help uninsured people who already have medical conditions, but to think it belongs in the insurance market is no less insane than the above conversation.

OK, that’s real insurance, but for the rest of this I’ll be using the term to refer to the current stuff many of us have, mostly through employers.


…Now, let’s see how the ACA is going to help us all start getting healthier.  One of the main ways is this — odds are pretty good that by the end of next year, you’re not going to have insurance.  I don’t mean you personally.  That would be a major setback.  I mean you and probably 50-70 million of your closest friends.  Company-provided health care will be exiting the scene in rapid and dramatic fashion, and good riddance.

It’s a major setback if it happens to a few or even a few thousands of folks, because now they’re out there naked in the market where everyone else is able to pay for all of those expensive doctors visits and specialists and prescriptions.

But when 50 million people find themselves looking for health care with only their own resources, you don’t have a disaster — you’ve just created a monstrous consumer-driven market overnight.  Fifty million people who yesterday would’ve gone to the drug store (the closest one), given the nice person behind the counter their insurance card and $15 copay, and then gone home without a thought.  Now they’ll be saying things like:

“How much does this cost?”

“It’s $10 cheaper if I drive six blocks to your competitor — can you match that?”


Another thing that’s coming to light if you’ve followed this at all is that the Obamacare policies, besides having major increases in both premiums and deductibles (out of pocket expenses before you get a dollar covered by insurance will probably range from $4,000 for the most expensive policies up to over $12,000 for the “cheap” ones) have made drastic cutbacks in the formularies.  That’s the approved drugs that they’ll pay for or count towards deductibles.  They have to have at least one drug from each class, and that’s pretty much what you’re going to have.

Many people are going to find that even if they have insurance, they drugs that have worked for them aren’t on the list, so they’ll be out of pocket. So even more important than that conversation at the pharmacy counter, more people will be asking their doctors things like:

“Isn’t there a generic for this?”

“Why’s it so expensive?”

“Why do you want me to take a drug for the rest of my life?”

“Shouldn’t I be looking at changing my diet and habits BEFORE trying drugs, instead of the other way around?”

Or even,

“It’s costing me $120 for this visit, not counting the hour I just sat in your waiting room.  I’d like a little more than 8 minutes and a prescription.  How about you explain why you’re making these recommendations.”

Another way this reshuffles the current incentives in our system in a major way is this:

I think most Fat Heads will agree that part of America’s problem is that the commodity, Frankenfoods are just plain cheaper calories than eating good food even before all of the subsidies and price distortions that work in their favor.  So, eating crap that has disastrous long term health effects is cheaper in the short run.  Then people get cheap drugs to treat the chronic conditions they develop as a result.  First we buy you the sugar, then we buy you the insulin.  Perfect.

If people suddenly find themselves actually footing the bill for their own poor lifestyle and diet decisions, I believe it will trigger a paradigm shift in how they view their food.  Perhaps even a paradigm shift in how they view the people who have been telling them what to eat for the last couple of decades.

These things don’t have to be voted on, or spelled out for the many people who won’t be that focused.  But they’ll be listening to the people who do care, and are focused, because now it matters to them, and their positive actions will yield positive results.

It’s all about that “Wisdom of Crowds” effect that Tom is lecturing on (which his how you got stuck reading this!).

OK, you’ve suffered enough.  Tom should be back next week.  I may put up a couple of corollaries to this line of thought over the weekend, like how the continuing collapse could trigger a sudden outburst of fiscal sanity, and how to decide whether or not you should be trying to get insurance, or just wait until your house burns down and then let Obama buy you a new one.

See you in the comments!

The Older Brother





Comments 50 Comments »

Greetings fellow Fat Heads!

Tom’s getting ready to educate another batch of university students on The Wisdom of Crowds effect (and hopefully get a good video), so I get to occupy the Big Chair for the week.

Tom gives regular updates on how Chareva and he are integrating their lifestyle with the land they’re on.  I don’t live on acreage, but I’ve been moving along a similar path up North here, starting with buying raw milk and pastured eggs a couple of years ago from an acquaintance — now friend — Linda, who I’d met via Garrick Veenstra, an all-natural, no chemicals, local vegetable farmer (those were some of my first guest posts).  I thought it would be fun to give you an update.  As Tom and I actually communicate mostly through the comments on this blog, we’re not comparing notes often, so I’ve found it interesting how similar our paths tend to run.

First a topic Tom hasn’t really hit on here — what most folks in this country would call “garbage” or “waste.”

A friend of mine who’s also working towards self-sufficiency on his own small property (a few acres) worked out a deal with the produce manager at one of the stores of a large national food chain. He picks up the unsalable produce they normally pay to have hauled off, and has been building a few compost piles on his property.

The thing is, we Americans have been trained to be pretty discriminating about what we consider good food.  Not well trained, just trained.  We won’t buy fruits or vegetables that aren’t just the right size, or isn’t just the right color, or has even a little blemish.  So since we’ve all been trained that only “perfect” looking food is good food (even though that means it’s probably been bred for looks, low cost, and ability to ship instead of flavor), the store employees routinely have to go through and throw out any food that doesn’t meet the Miss America standard of beauty.  Plus, since commodity veggies and fruits tend to be way cheaper than labor costs, the most efficient thing to do is to pitch any carton or flat or bag that contains even a few rejects.

Fortunately for me (or unfortunately for my friend if you want to look at it that way), there’s a small trailer park behind the treeline of his property, and it’s inhabited with a few of those type of people who start calling the health department, fire department, police department, village president, and anyone they can think of whenever someone does something weird — like building a compost pile on their own property.  This helps keep themselves from thinking about why they don’t have jobs, and live in a trailer park.  Everything he’s done, including building his compost pile, is by the book, and there’s a couple of hilarious stories there, but he got tired of the nuisance and asked if I thought Linda would be interested taking the loads for awhile to build up a compost pile at her farm so he could get a break from his neighbors.

Plus it was getting to be a bit much for his small property, anyway.  So he’s been dropping it off at her farm once or twice a week, taking one home for himself once in awhile, and on my weekly run to Linda’s for milk and eggs, I swing by my buddy’s office, swap vehicles, then go do the pickup and head for the farm, unload, check on the chickens and cows (getting to that shortly), then swap back on my way home.

How much of this “waste” are we talking?  Well, here’s a picture of my buddy’s pickup truck after we’ve unloaded most of one run at Linda’s farm…


… That’s a big Chevy truck and the bed holds four rows across, five deep and three high, so anywhere between 50 and 60 of those boxes’ worth.  Maybe 5% has fuzz showing by the time he picks it up, maybe 25% is overripe, 20% blemished, 20% wilted, and 20% looks OK.  The other 10% is gorgeous — it was just hanging out with a few bad apples!

That’s one load from one of several stores in a medium-sized suburban community, and he has to pick it up at least three times a week to keep up.  Of food that we Americans call “garbage,” but a single load like this would start a food riot in probably 85% of the world.  Makes you want to cry.

After we untie the plastic bags, we dump the produce, put the plastic in a pile for the garbage, then were breaking down the cardboard boxes and either burning them or hauling them off.  Then after my buddy mentioned that the cardboard boxes were great dry matter for the pile (duh!), we started throwing them back on.  It looked like this (this is probably two loads)…

I finally — three months in — figured out that if we put the first box we’ve emptied right on top of the pile and then empty the next box box right into it, then pull out the plastic bag (then rinse, lather, repeat), we don’t have to break them down, they stay in place, and it cuts the time to get everything unloaded in half.  Hey, I’m not stupid.  I’m just slow.

We normally let it build up for a couple of weeks.  Linda moved the coop for her pastured egg chickens next to the compost pile and they love poking through it.  They especially go for anything with seeds in it.  It’s made a notable difference in the eggs Linda gets from her chickens, and they were already way superior to a store bought egg before they had access to the compost heap.  And yeah, the guy in front of the picture is named Einstein…

Every couple of weeks, my buddy swings by with his small tractor and dumps some wood chips from a huge pile Linda’s had aging for a couple of years onto the fruit and veggie pile, mixes it and mounds it up.

[n.b., Fat Heads: having friends who own trucks and their own tractors is way better than owning your own truck and tractor.  I also have a friend who owns a pontoon boat.  If I can find a friend who owns his own plane, I’m set!]

A few weeks later, it looks good enough to play King of the Mountain on (that’s The Grandkids, who’ve you’ve seen here before)…

That’s beautiful soil for next year’s garden beds.

Moving on, a few weeks before Tom reported their chicken house building project, I was taking delivery of 50 meat chickens and setting them up in an old construction trailer converted to a brooding house/coop at Linda’s farm.  When we first got our two cows onto Linda’s farm to pasture, I’d asked Linda about raising some meat chickens.  The original idea was to keep them on the cows’ pasture in one or two “chicken tractors” somewhat like Chareva’s chicken house, but lighter construction, and then move them around every couple of days.  Cow pies to a chicken are like Pecan Pie to us.  They scratch them up for the bugs, spread the piles better for the soil, and it drives both chicken and cow parasites nucking futs, disrupting their breeding cycles.  That’s the true Joel Salatin model, one of my favorite authors and something of an icon in the real/local food movement.

Linda’s sister, who now lives off the farm, suggested that we rehab the old construction trailer, which she’d set up as a coop a few years earlier while she lived there and kept several dozen egg layers.  The “almost done” nature of the trailer, and the late start we got made it a pretty easy decision.  Linda does the daily feeding, watering, and general keeping an eye on the chickens, I bought the chickens, buy the feed and supplies, and we’ll share the “bounty” at processing time.

I got 25 Freedom Rangers, which is a hybrid bred strictly as a meat bird.  That means they grow fast, and there’s no interest in their egg-laying capability since they get to the roaster long before they’d be ready to lay eggs.  Since they’re a hybrid, even if you kept some with the idea of hatching your own supply, they wouldn’t be the same.  Unlike America’s commodity meat chicken, the White Cornish Cross, the Freedom Rangers were developed to the French Label Rouge Free Range standard, which means they do well on pasture and aren’t plagued with the health issues common to the Cornish Cross.

The other 25 are Plymouth Barred Rocks, a heritage breed that is as close as it gets to what your grandmother might’ve had running around the farm. They free-range pretty well, and are a solid “dual purpose” bird, meaning they can be raised for meat and/or eggs. Unfortunately for this group, I’ve already got an egg supplier! Here’s what they all looked like a couple of weeks ago, at around 2 1/2 months…

They all were the same size and two days old when I got them on September 12th, but the reddish Freedom Rangers are now a full third bigger on average than the Rocks.

Although these birds are destined for the dinner table, we feel our part of the bargain means they need the opportunity to (to quote the aforementioned Joel Salatin) “express their chicken-ness.”  Keeping them in a coop (even though they’ve got lots of room) and giving them only store bought fed without ever getting to scratch for bugs in the fresh air and sunshine would just make me an extremely small scale Tyson.  Not what I’m going for.  So, on days when it’s not brutal weather, Linda lets them do just that…


If you’re in it as a business, breeding so a bird grows to processing weight (around 6-8 pounds) in about 90 days for the Freedom Rangers vs. 120 day for the Rocks means you’re buying 25% less feed and turning your inventory that much faster, too.  By comparison, the commodity market darling Cornish Cross, pathetic as they can be, are ready to process in 6-8 weeks.  So you (or a customer) has to be ready to invest twice as much time and feed to get a Freedom Ranger, and even more for a true heritage chicken.

We do now have, however, a not major but at least minor offset to the feed disadvantage.  Remember that compost pile we diverted from the Great American Waste Stream?  Well, hey, chickens were the original homestead garbage disposal…

So as we unload each delivery, Linda and I separate out as many apples, squash, ears of corn, pomegranates (boy, do they LOVE pomegranates — almost all seeds!), etc., as we can and then she gives those to the chickens in the morning before putting out any of the store bought feed.  It cuts the feed outlays almost in half!  At around $15 for a 50# bag, that adds up when they’re now at a size that they can easily go through two bags in about 4 or 5 days if they’re only getting the feed.  They’re also be happier, healthier, and should be tastier.

Now that this whole group is coming up on 90 days, we’ve decided to process a small “practice” batch of 4 or 5 of the Freedom Rangers this weekend as this is all of ours’ first experience (Besides Linda and myself, The Oldest Son and a friend from work have volunteered for duty).  We’ll probably process the rest of the Freedom Rangers the next week, and then wait a few more weeks for the Rocks to get to processing weight.  You can pay to have the birds all processed for around $1.50 each, which isn’t bad, but the time and travel cost (about 60 miles each way) make it pretty pricey for anything under a hundred or more chickens.  Another reason we committed at the beginning to processing at least the first batch of 50 birds ourselves was that, although we know it’s not something to enjoy, it seemed to be the most honest way to show our respect for the birds, and so that we’ll better appreciate what procuring our own food really means.

(I was thinking of using that experience in a later guest post, but then Tom beat me to it last week after Chareva was “hot-rodding” their chicken house around the yard!)

I know I’ve been a little wordy, but one more quick update.  The cows (Tom and Chareva are in on half of one of them) have been doing really well and growing through what up until recently has been a pretty mild Fall and Winter.  Here’s Tartare…

And this is Royale…

I’d read about an idea that’s been gaining some attention in the grass-fed beef circles — fodder. The idea is that you soak grain seeds for a day, then spread them in trays that will drain, and water them daily for about a week. Seeds only need moisture and a bit of light for the first week or so of growth, which end up around 7 to 10 times the weight of the original seed.  You’ve probably been fed fodder at some point in your life, although on the menu it’s called “sprouts.”

It’s more nutritious than hay, and cheaper since you’re getting a lot of added volume for a little water and time, so livestock can be supplemented or even fed mainly fodder over the winter and maintain or even gain weight. Linda, who’s incredibly patient with my tendency to get enthusiastic about ideas where I think of it, and then leave the most of the work to her, has got a trial system started.  You can see about half of the setup here…

Each shelf is started a day after the prior shelf of trays, so you end up with a rotating daily supply. The cows are starting to look forward to their daily ration (and the chickens go nuts over the leftovers). This means we’ll be able to wait until the end of January to get the cows processed. That’s good because although they’re already at a good weight, the custom meat processing operations pretty much shut down to anything other than deer during the December/mid-January Illinois deer hunting seasons.  This way we’ll be able to keep adding weight up to processing time.

Whew, if you made it this far, thanks for sticking with me. Up next, for those of you who are interested, and fair warning if you’re not, I’ve had a major epiphany and intend to elaborate on how Obamacare could quite possibly save the entire health care system, radically improve the health of most Americans (who weren’t already among us Fat Heads, that is), supercharge the economy, and restore our liberty. I’ve even already thought up a bumper sticker:

“Let’s just get it over with —
Vote Democrat!”

Catchy, huh?


The Older Brother


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Here’s a holiday treat I’ll share before turning the blog over to The Older Brother for the upcoming week.  It’s eggnog I make for the girls.  (I’ve been known to enjoy a bit of it too.)

Our chickens haven’t been producing many eggs lately, so we used pasteurized eggs.  Otherwise the raw yolks would worry me.  That may be an unfounded fear, but I’d rather be cautious when feeding my kids.

Anyway, the recipe:

  • 4 eggs yolks
  • 3/4 cup cream
  • 1/4 tsp. vanilla
  • Dash of nutmeg or pumpkin spice
  • Sweeten to taste.  For me, that works out to 1/4 tsp. liquid Stevia.

Mix it up and serve.  Given the ingredients, this pretty much a meal in glass.

The girl with the eggnog mustache approved of the latest batch.


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