I grew up with a Salton, five-cup yogurt maker. As far back as I can remember, it was always tucked into the back of one of the kitchen cabinets. However, it never got much use during my childhood, as it was more of a relic from my mom's earlier, pre-children, hippie days than an active appliance. When I was 9 or 10 years old, at a moment when we were in need of drinking glasses, she cannibalized the yogurt maker, and pressed the milk glass cups into service around the dinner table. We continued to use them that way for years (I think that my mom even picked up a second yogurt maker at a thrift store at one point, just for the glasses).

Three or four years ago, I happened across a similar yogurt maker at a thrift store. I bought it, despite the fact that I had no active interest in making my own yogurt and my kitchen was already woefully overstocked. I tucked it up on top of my kitchen cabinets and didn't touch it again until last week.
I've been thinking a lot about homemade yogurt recently. Sarah Gilbert's post about her own adventures making yogurt started the mental conversation. Then, as I was putting away dry dishes one evening, my stack of quart-sized yogurt containers grew too tall for the space and had to be culled, which got me thinking about all the plastic I consume along with my regular bowl of plain yogurt (with maple syrup or local lavender honey). The final straw was when this little yogurt container, so much like the one I grew up with, caught my eye and seemed to wink at me.

So I went out and bought a glass bottle of local milk from Sue's Produce (using milk that came in a plastic bottle would have nearly defeated one of the goals), scalded four cups in a medium-sized sauce pan, cooled it down to 110 degrees, stirred in half a cup of plain Greek yogurt and poured it into the five cups (there was just a bit too much). I covered the cups with their little plastic lids, set the top on the maker, plugged it in and went to bed.

The next morning, I got up a little earlier than normal, to give myself a little time to deal with my yogurt. Walking into the kitchen, I sniffed the air curiously, hoping that I wouldn't be greeted by the smell of sour milk. Dismantling the yogurt maker, I picked up the first cup in the row, removed the lid and poked it with my finger. It was yogurt. There was a bit of liquid resting on top, but once I poured it off, it looked much like the plain yogurt I buy by the quart at Trader Joe's. I poured the contents of the cups out into one of my large, plastic yogurt containers (I was worried that all those small cups would get knocked over in my crowded fridge), spooned out some into a bowl and topped it with half a sliced banana. It was a particularly satisfying and delicious breakfast.