Those who have read and loved Kristin Kimball’s “The Dirty Life” might remember her lyrical description of Jersey cow’s milk. In it, she mentions the influence that a cow’s diet can have on the flavor of the milk: the idea that milk, like wine, can have the unique flavor of a region, instead of the uniform, cardboard-laced watery blandness of the commercial stuff.

I have to say, the milk we have been getting from our does, while good, has not (to me at least) had any defining flavors. This is something of a relief: one of the concerns I had in getting milk goats was that their milk would not be sweet and creamy unless I had them on good pasture. But all summer they turned the brush (everything from brambles to poison ivy to dead oak leaves) into good solid milk. I won’t claim it is as delicious as Jersey cow’s milk, because it isn’t. But it is pretty darned good - it has enough creaminess to satisfy, and does just fine in the coffee.

This past January, though, something new crept in. Finally, I could taste my land through the medium of my goats milk!! I had a new connection with this tiny piece of Maryland I call home! It was a slight spice, something that made me me feel like going out in the crisp air and taking a deep breath. It felt like walking through a deep pine wood, with white snow all around….

It tasted, in fact, like spruce. To be precise, it tasted like the christmas trees I tossed in the goat pen to give them some greenery and entertainment.

The terroir of goats milk