The Exhausting Hunt for New, More Obscure Milk Alternatives
It all started innocently enough. They had accidentally made my drink with soy milk. “Sorry about that. I’ll make you another one,” the barista told me. Being the magnanimous individual I am, I said, “No, it’s fine. I’ll just drink this one.” Which I followed with a guttural scoff to convey my displeasure at being victimized by her carelessness, but not wanting to wait an extra minute for a new drink.
When I had the first sip it was like a whole new world opened up to me. What was this watery, less savory version of the thing I had known my whole life? It launched me down a dark and dangerous path of milk alternatives. Hell, before I knew it, I was trying to make mozzarella with soy milk. It didn’t work, but I had the bug alright.
After soy, I discovered the almond. The sweet, sweet almond. All the benefits of soy milk minus the estrogen that was quickly turning my body into an androgynous mess. My affair with almond milk was hot and heavy, but after seeing almond’s hot younger sister, cashew milk, I knew our time was coming to a close.
I’d been riding the cashew milk wave for 9 months. Going steady, as the kids would say. But then I heard whispers of a new milk alternative on the scene. One so thick and delicious, you could almost convince yourself it was as good as real milk. There were fights breaking out over it in Brooklyn. Supply shortages leading to a seedy black market of mustachioed coffee connoisseurs hawking it in backrooms of gourmet espresso haunts. Its name: Oat Milk.
I never knew you could milk an oat — or an almond or cashew for that matter — but one thing I did know was that I was hooked. I can’t even look at an iced vanilla latte without there being oat milk in there. I literally start vomiting from the idea of there not being oat milk in my drinks. It’s only been about 4 months since I’ve been on the “O” — as we oatheads call it — but I’ve already had to sell my car and steal from my parents just to get another hit of that double-shot oat milk cappuccino from the overpriced cafe near my house.
If I can do anything in the world worth a damn, it’d be to serve as a warning to all those thinking about experimenting with milk alternatives. Sure, it may seem fun at first, but it won’t seem so fun when you’re up at 5 am trying to find the nipple on a walnut to see if you can get some milk alternative for your morning fix.
