The other night, at midnight to be precise, there was a phone call. All kinds of crazy thoughts ran through my mind, was it my Japanese ex who worked as a bill collector? No wait, it was the raw milkman! And he didn’t come for my wife but for my wallet. As ordered, he brought a gallon of raw cow’s milk, several duck eggs, and raw butter.
The milk came in a farm-sealed plastic container and the butter in a deli style plastic container, the same kind you get potato salad. I was hoping for glass containers but I guess this kind of food has a very short shelf life so the milk and butter won’t have time to absorb plastic stuff. Of course having only taken two courses in Chemistry back in the ’90s I am no expert in how food absorbs plastic. webhosting info . Anyway, I digress.
John showed me the glass of milk that he had just poured. Looked like milk! Having been warned that raw milk is scary and will cause you to react like that chestbuster scene in Alien or look like Kuato, I took a whiff. Nothing strange here. Still, I wanted to wait 24 hours to pass after John tried it before I would. I was also contemplating the risk factors. Was this more dangerous than jumping out of a perfectly good airplane with a stranger strapped to my back?
And so I tried some. The clear plastic container was transparent enough for me to see a layer on top of the milk. I had already poured half a glass, so I closed the container and shook the slightly milk to get an even distribution in pour. I drank whatever was in the glass and poured a full glass of shaken milk. One sip went down and it was good. I felt something strange in my stomach. A bit of a rumble and movement; would this be the end of my drinking of raw milk? No wait, that was my Android ‘smart’ phone attached to my belt buzzing away. No strange smells, I didn’t go blind, so I continued to sip. All along waiting for something strange to happen; a hallucination would have been cool. I emptied the glass and it was just like having regular milk, just tastier, richer, and fuller. It didn’t blow my mind the way bungee jumping did, but it was good.
I haven’t tried the butter or the duck eggs. You must all know that John is beyond overly enthusiastic. Not sure if this was better for him or his recent car purchase but now we all know his weak point. A bottle of raw milk and he will name his first born after you.
Tomorrow there are plans to make out of season egg nog. Duck eggs (quack, quack) and raw milk; will they find raw Bourbon?