You’ve probably been wondering how I’ve been making this, the best yogurt of my life.
2. Pour the milk into a heavy, lidded pot and heat it up to 100-110F. If it is over 110F, stir in a small amount of milk (or cream, or half and half) to cool it down. Turn off the heat. (Other yogurt recipes would have us boil the milk and then cool it to 100-110F, but since this milk is already so altered by whatever freaky process Fairlife uses to transform it, this step is unnecessary here.)
3. I whisk in the 1/2 cup of Dannon yogurt, and make sure things are still around 100-110F.
4. I place the covered, warm pot on a dishtowel-lined heating pad set on high and leave it all day. (As a safety feature, my heating pad shuts itself off after a few hours, so I have to keep turning it back on.) The longer you leave it, the thicker it gets.
The ideal yogurt making facility/home would have charming radiators where one could keep the pot cozy. Another option is a beach cooler lined with hot towels. Or an oven with the light on—this tip comes from a friend’s Scottish husband, so it must be legit.
5. At the end of the day, what’s in the pot is a thickened, quasi-solid mass: yogurt! To make it into Greek yogurt, line a mesh sieve with a dishtowel set this contraption in a bowl. Then pour (plop) the yogurt into the towel-lined sieve, and stick this in the fridge for a few hours. The yogurt will become really lush and nice. The more you strain it, the thicker it gets, obvs. If I leave it draining all night, it winds up as thick as a brick of cream cheese.
HOW MUCH CARBOHYDRATE? This starts with 48g CHO in the milk and yogurt. During the fermentation, the bacteria consumes most of that sugar. More CHO is removed during the straining. So I don’t know how many g CHO remain, but it would be waaaay less than 48 per batch, and probably hardly any. Science!
I eat this with walnuts or pecans and a spoonful of Trader Joe’s pumpkin butter, which is like jam and has many g CHO (10 per tablespoon.) Or with an apple.