Milk

Yes, this blog entry is devoted to the second great love of my life after peanut butter. Now I won’t say I’m a milk expert. I can't tell you where the cow was raised or what it's eating just by tasting its milk. Let’s just say I’m an ‘aficionado.’ I am, in fact, from the Dairy State. I’ve grown up surrounded by dairy farms, and even used to visit them for breakfast on the farm on my birthdays. My mom even has a strange fascination with the bovine creatures (dumb as rocks they are). Anyway, I’ve loved milk ever since I was little. At school where I finance an overpriced meal plan (the staff is amazing, I love them, but the food is expensive), I try to help make up for it by drinking at least two glasses of milk at each meal, three meals a day, 7 days a week.

Here in Spain I’ve very rarely had the occasion to drink milk. This hasn’t been terrible. I usually just have water. It’s easier to get wine here than it is to get milk. Sometimes, though, I do get it hot for breakfast with ColaCao (a chocolate powder like Nesquik). Not ideal, but better than nothing? I’m not sure. The milk here breaks two basic premises that I hold to be true. 1) Milk does not come in box. 2) Milk is not kept at room temperature. Yes, the milk at school comes in a box, but it’s at least in a bag in that box. I’m talking more like juice box, box. And room temperature? It’s kept on the shelves in the pantry. Today I was served it room temperature. No, this was an outrage. Milk should be cold; at the very least chilled and only occasionally hot. Also for all you skim milk drinkers out there (you know who you are), don’t even bother. The milk here is whole milk. The reason? In Spain the only reason to have milk is to mix with your coffee! Café con leche or Calimocho as the national drink of Spain? Maybe it should be put to a vote…ARGH!