I’m not sure if it was the prospect of a steaming cup of coffee or what, but Joey bounded out of bed first thing when his alarm went off, and he raced to the kitchen.  Five minutes later, he came back.

“Uh, we don’t have any milk.  I can’t drink coffee without any milk.”

“Rats,” I mumbled.  ”Make some powdered milk or something.”

“I don’t even know what that is.  You’re going to have to come and help me,” Joey said, ripping back the blanket.

Those of you coffee purists are probably thinking NO!  NOT POWDERED MILK!  and, frankly, I was too…but we really didn’t have a choice.  The Experiment isn’t over for three more days, and I think there would have to be a deep freeze in June before Joey would drink black coffee.

I showed him where the powdered milk box was; it’s buried deep in the recesses of my flours and thickeners cabinet, right next to where my homemade vanilla is percolating very nicely, and indicated the proportions on the back of the box.  ”You can figure it out yourself, right?”

I can’t adjust proportions on powdered milk at 6:15 a.m., or any other time of the day really.

A few moments later, Joey hollered that the coffee was ready, and I scuffed back to the kitchen.  There was just enough left for me…and a sorry looking little prep bowl full of “milk” for me to add.  I dumped some in my coffee and immediately got the willies: little dehydrated milk chunks separated from the water it had apparently not bound tightly enough too.  Little chunks of what were dehydrated milk granules (now slightly hydrated) were floating on the surface of my Sunshiney Day blend.  I wrinkled up my face and frantically began stirring the coffee, hoping to either saturate them in coffee, or sink them to the bottom for long enough that I could drink it without noticing them.

I was successful. The granules have disappeared but HOLY COW (and in this case it is so applicable) dehydrated milk does not taste the same in coffee.  I think the cow who gave up her milk to get it dehydrated would be appalled.

And she would be right to be.

Pops’ cow 30 would never stand for this.  (Pops has made 30 so tame you can totally go up to her in the pasture and milk her.  I have never experienced this firsthand because last time I was up in the promised land, I mean Iowa, it rained the entire time and was too muddy to go out to the field; it was disappointing.)

Back on track, though.  Seriously – I’m all over the place today.

If I had to put my finger on what tastes weird about coffee made with dehydrated milk, it’s that dehydrated milk is comprehensively creepier than regular milk and I think it smells…dry.  I usually only put it in yeast breads and such whenever I make those, and I’ve always thought it smelled kind of cardboard.  Maybe it’s just because I hate milk, and dried out milk is like the worst of the worst, but I think it has a funny smell.  Mix that with coffee and it’s just a very strange situation.

Meanwhile I’m struggling with the milk granules, Joey, who is currently reading a commentary on Romans 6 for that killer Sunday School lesson, just piped in with “I wish I could throw out words like otiose in everyday speech.”  He lifted his commentary a bit to indicate that he’d read the word in there.

“If you did that, no one would want to be friends with you because you’d seem pretentious,” I goaded.

“Not people who are FULL OF GRACE, unlikely you,” he replied, haughtily.

(I tell you what, The Coffee Experiment has brought a new dimension of color to our house in the mornings.  Joey is currently singing/humming and loading the dishwasher.  I’m curious to see where it takes us after the week is over.)

Oh but where was I?  Ah yes, coffee made with powdered milk and how powdered milk is kind of creep-tastic when mixed in with coffee.

I do need to insist we stop and get some creamer tonight on the way  home.  Perhaps I’ll introduce Joey to the wonders of flavored creamer…