The discussion about raw milk standards, following my post of July 19, besides being extremely informative, brings to mind a couple of recent conversations I had with dairy farmers who produce raw milk.

One of the farmers produces raw milk in New York state, and among his customers is a group of orthodox Jews, who insist that their milk be kosher. For it to be considered kosher, the milk must either come from a farm owned by Jews or, if not, the milking must be observed by a designated orthodox Jew to ensure the milk isn’t mixed with milk or meat from non-kosher animals.

The farmer told me a second group of orthodox Jews approached him recently about buying milk, but when they inspected his barn and milk house, had some concerns because the group’s inspector couldn’t simultaneously observe the milking take place and see the milk flow to the bulk tank, since there were some obstructions. Last this farmer heard, the group was discussing among themselves whether his milk would be acceptable, or whether to seek their raw milk elsewhere.

So milk that was kosher for one group possibly wasn’t kosher for another. This situation among Jews who keep kosher isn’t unusual. Some Jews who keep kosher won’t eat any food that isn’t known to be kosher and prepared in a kosher kitchen, while others who eat only kosher food at home will eat at non-kosher restaurants, but limit themselves to fish and/or vegetable dishes. The Torah is certainly open to varying interpretations.

Another situation that came up recently with the New Hampshire farmer who supplies me with raw milk concerned the matter of when the milk of a newly milking cow was appropriate for sale. Kathy, the farmer, told me that the cow’s milk the first week or ten days was watery, and so she didn’t think it was appropriate to sell. She decided it was appropriate for sale about two weeks after the cow started milking, and even then she mixed it with the milk from another cow. But the taste was different than what I was accustomed to—much less sweet than the usual milk. I wonder if that was because it contained more colostrum than the usual milk.

As in the situation with the antibiotics, the decision on what to do was left to me. In the end, I essentially decided to trust Kathy. If she felt comfortable selling me the milk, then I was comfortable buying it. The last thing she wants is for me to become ill.

So I can appreciate Elizabeth McInerney’s upset at the consumers who arbitrarily set their own standards about how long the cows producing their milk should be “clean” of antibiotics. These individuals have no idea how much antibiotics they consume in the meat of a restaurant chicken or the cheese of a party host. Yet they insist that a farmer who has been completely transparent in disclosing information comply with a very difficult standard.

At the same time, I don’t deny these individuals the right to make the decisions they feel comfortable with—that is part of the reason they are buying milk directly from a farmer.

In California, Mark McAfee, who sells about 95% of the milk consumed in the state, is entrusted with setting the state’s standards, by default. But everywhere else, it’s a free-for-all.

Until marketplace standards are agreed to, we are on our own, and have to arrive at standards in consultation with the farmers who sell us milk. And those standards may well vary from farmer to farmer, and consumer to consumer. It’s part of the price for seeking a product the government would just as soon we not have.