As a kid, whenever Laverne would dump a small bottle of Pepsi into her milk, I would instinctively gag. Don’t get me wrong, I love milk. I’ve come down to Skim milk after years of weaning. I wish we had 1% when I was going through kicking the whole milk habit.
The last big meal I had at my mother-in-law’s, she brought out a plate of salad that was swimming in a pale white liquid. I nibbled a leaf. Delish! Much like a Japanese salad dressing… I asked what it was. “Milk and vinegar” I was told and suddenly my stomach flipped.
I have a thing about curdled milk. If I think that any additive will make milk turn into solids, I can’t eat it. I can’t look at it. It comes from my childhood, gobbling down milk that was so chunky, it was 99% curds. Growing up in our house meant you scrambled for food, oblivious to the taste. As soon as the first blobs hit my teeth, I sprayed milk and whey across the kitchen.
I chewed through it. It wasn’t bad, in fact I enjoyed the taste. But my brain was hotwired to reject it.
Milk should have no additives!
(Except for chocolate)