THE exact science of modern dairy processing is a world away from what once was standard practice.
Former butter maker Martin Maloney worked at the Casino Co-operative Dairy Society factory all through the 1960s, making friends with the operation’s mechanic Ian Robinson, who started his employment a decade earlier.
Nowadays Richmond Dairies occupies the building in Dyraaba Street.
Back in those ‘good old days’ standard practice was a great deal less restrictive, and the pair easily recall amusing events – like finding a drowned rooster in a cream can.
“I just reached in and picked up that chicken by its two legs and squeezed the cream out of its feathers,” recalled Mr Martin – illustrating the action with his thumb and forefinger. “It all went upstairs to get pasturised anyway.”
Eric Daley The cream tester also provided amusement, as he dipped his wooden spatula into every can and tasted it, spitting out the mouthful much like a wine connoisseur.
“Whenever he got a bad batch he’d wrinkle up his face and do a little dance, in circles,” said Mr Maloney, grinning at the memory.
Back then off-batches of cream were dyed purple.
The co-operative had four large butter churns operating in its factory and also made skim milk powder, buttermilk powder as well as a calf milk powder branded Rich-N-Vite that was declared a market wonder by then general manager Cyril Vincent ‘Bill’ Barker.
