Weekend breakfasts

On Fridays I buy a bottle of Ronnybrook full cream milk (stocked by Key Food, hooray!!!). It's a real bottle: thick, sturdy glass that lands on the counter with a clunk. When you pop the cap off there is a layer of cream just beneath it. Just like the old days, when I was little, and the milk was delivered to all the houses in the street by a three-wheeler electric van; a rising and falling v-v-v-v-v-v-v-V-V-V-v-v-v, like a musical sewing machine.

You'd press the foil cap in with your thumb to break the seal and then lift it off, and stick your finger into the top of the milk, drawing it out white.

So, this milk is a weekend treat. The rest of the week it is what the cat would refer to as lowfat kaka sheet. I don't mind it at all, though, and even le chat noir has got used to it. Needs must. And that is a carton of Organic Valley or Stonyfield - no more Horizon after we learned more about them, tsk. But it's not stuff you want to drink for pleasure.

I drink milk every day, in my morning espresso, and so I want it to be organic - not just for the cows' sakes, but for mine. Which begs the question. Is Ronnybrook organic?

Technically, no. And they explain themselves in this link, which I found useful. What appeals most about them is that they farm in the Hudson Valley, so they are upstream. And then the milk tastes like milk. Good. On that subject, here's an interesting taste-test of various local milks - the comments at the end are interesting.

And the weekend coffee is utterly delicious - milky, creamy, a perfect foil for some boiled eggs, toast and melted butter drizzled over the top. With some snippings of terrace chives.