“Okay close your eyes, and then take a sip.”

In general, this is the sort of directive you should never obey. I’m certain I tried to feed someone something disgusting in my younger days following a similar tactic, and/or had the same done to me. 

I guess depending on your perspective, both sides of that happened last week here in our kitchen, when Brian and I hosted a group of friends for a Milk Bar. What is that, you ask? It could be all sorts of things apparently, from a deli-style grocery in Australia to Christina Tosi’s line of bakery restaurants to a place selling all things dairy and milkshake-y. The latter definition is primarily the one that instigated our event, mixed up in my brain with the idea of a cereal bar restaurant: buffet service of all sorts of cereals, types of milks, and toppings. 

Our party featured an array of milk-friendly or milk-adjacent snacks – think baked oatmeal, Lucky Charms, cookies, donut holes, shoo-fly cake, etc, as well as a few spicy things like salsa and buffalo chicken (that needed milk to temper their heat) and a creamy soup. 

And we didn’t just have general “milk.” Oh no, we had fifteen. To be clear, some of them were what we like to call mylk, since they aren’t actually milk, but they needed to be included in the array. Our “bar” was even complete with little tiny red Solo cups.

This is where the closed eyes came in: we passed out pens and numbered papers, then stood in a brave/terrified circle while Brian came around and poured a sip of something dairy/non-dairy into our shot glasses. Fortunately we were allowed to open our eyes again once everyone was served, since it’s surprisingly difficult to drink when you can’t see your cup. Look, swirl, sniff, sip, notice – perhaps the Mennonite version of a wine tasting? 

In no particular order, Brian served up the options, and we had to guess what they were. Holstein milk, raw whole and skimmed, and pasteurized whole; whole raw Jersey; goat; oat; soy; almond; and coconut. All the cow milks were rated positively, as they should be. I think the goat milk shocked everyone at how little it tasted like a barnyard and how pleasantly creamy it was (fun fact, goat milk is naturally homogenized so it can’t be skimmed). My family had a few goats during my childhood, and I milked one a few times for fun for my cats, but the smell of that billy goat permeates my memories even now. 

On the other hand, while I thought all of the alternate mylks were at least okay if not really quite tasty, I was clearly in the minority opinion. I can see how they could be an acquired taste, but they weren’t legitimately bad. Some of the faces and sounds made after a sip, followed by the remainder of their cup either being forced down amidst gagging or tossed down the sink leads me to believe I was in the minority opinion. Kids these days. 

Nobody much liked the cereal milk I made with strawberry mini wheats, either, and root beer milk seems to be a polarizing flavor that is either loved or not at all. The blueberry milk was created just for color for a gender reveal of one of the couple’s baby, so while it looked nice (okay fine it was more purple than blue, which was uncomfortable), I had all the leftovers to drink myself. The chocolate milk and coffee milk flavors went over a little better, not surprisingly. 

All in all, it seemed a very appropriate party to host on a dairy farm, and at least we all know we got our recommended intake of calcium for the day. 

Strawberry Mini Wheat Cereal Milk

The title pretty much says it all – but instead of getting just the last dregs of sweet, wheaty milk after eating a bowl of cereal, why not enjoy an entire glass of it? The OG cereal milk is with toasted cornflakes, but of course I didn’t look it up until it was time to make it so I didn’t have any, but it does sound good. Lucky Charms is also a classic, and I know the milk left after Cinnamon Life is delicious. 

Prep tips: There’s not much of a recipe so there aren’t many prep tips … but learn from our milk party and choose good dairy

• 2 heaping cups strawberry shredded wheat cereal

• 4 cups whole milk

• optional: ¼ - ½ cup freeze-dried strawberries

• ¼ cup sugar

• dash salt

Put cereal, milk, and optional strawberries in a pitcher, stir, and refrigerate for at least an hour and up to four, stirring a couple times. Pour through a fine-mesh strainer into a large measuring cup, pressing on the cereal solids to squeeze out all the milk (there will be a lot of mushy wheat left – I ate some, the kids ate some, the chickens ate the rest). Stir in sugar and salt, and serve well-chilled.

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, two young children, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kids. Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.