it actually goes back further than that, at least in the states. in the 1700- and 1800s, many rum distilleries were in urban ports like boston and nyc. after the civil war, production actually sped up and disposal of the "mash" was an expensive proposition in a city. so, the rum guys hooked up with some dairy cow owners and penned the cows right next door and fed them that. and yes, they were being handled by distillery workers, not farm hands. this became increasingly popular as the cows produced more milk than their grass-fed country cousins. (sound familiar?) however, since these were densely populated areas, without central plumbing or municipal sanitation policies, this was a VERY dirty business. PLUS, the cows were sick from eating an unnatural diet. pasteurizing the milk began in the 1880s and dramatically reduced tuberculosis, cholera, etc. especially in children -- who were drinking most of the milk.
Originally Posted by magicmerl
the policy began from a flawed and strictly profit-driven model, and iirc, there was a 2-tier system in place that certified raw dairy farms, from which doctors often used the milk to treat illnesses. not sure when that went by the wayside.
the scale on which most milk is produced and distributed in the us makes raw impractical. the advertising to drink milk and eat cheese is stupendous here. americans now eat about 30 pounds of cheese a year -- and you KNOW it's mostly garbage "cheese" on big macs and dominos pizza.
raw remains illegal in my state, although i think you can get a work-around if you buy a cow-share at certain farms.
on the one hand it seems like unnecessary hobbling of small farmers, agreed. but on the other, there does need to be regular inspection of these facilities and there is not enough budget money for what currently exists. i don't have a good answer.
Last edited by noodletoy; 12-16-2013 at 09:45 AM.
As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.
– Ernest Hemingway