Lukewarm Evaporated Milk Coffee
Oh, to wake up to the glorious aroma of freshly brewed coffee, only to find out there is not a drop of cream in the house. Not to worry, buddy, somewhere, back in the dark reaches of the baking pantry, a leftover from a Thanksgiving who knows how many years ago, would be a can of evaporated milk. But worry should be paramount in a situation like this when your happiness depends on the perfect cup of coffee! I’m here to tell you the perfect cup of coffee does not exist, save only in your mind.
Some mornings it does not matter at all as long as there is coffee. Your coffee. To start the day without this warm, invigorating safety blanket akin only to the womb is the way most of us have started our day. I argue that coffee is the dividing line between adolescence and adulthood, heralding many changes to many things, paramount is the taste buds and what you will consider “good”.
As a child, we learned that evaporated milk would almost suffice in the absence of actual cold, delicious milk, but if the tin can be room temperature and open hastily, you could put it on your cold cereal and have lukewarm watered-down milking cereal. Yum
It was underwhelming and barely palatable.
Then something terrible happened. I grew up.
All the adults in my family knew about canned milk, and often used it in their coffee, even if there was perfectly good, cold, delicious, half-and-half, or better yet, actual cream available for their morning coffee. I couldn’t fathom why.
The first time I had a cup of coffee it was with canned milk. I didn’t know what coffee tasted like and by the time I tried it I was 12 or 13 at my grandmother’s house and I’m sure I annoyed her the rest of the day by bouncing off the walls. Occasionally she would let me have some of her coffee and out would come the canned milk from the fridge.
I knew no different. Until I did.
The first time I had a “real” cup of coffee, its burnt smoothness and its sweetness amazed me. My God, how many variations were available. I had arrived.
I was now a man of the world who could order his Starbucks double-shot cappuccino with skim milk and be proud as I waited in the caffeine line. There was not a can of evaporated milk anywhere in that Starbucks, and yes I looked for it. But it would not be there, it would never be there because my family wasn’t there and the people who drink coffee with evaporated milk would not have been welcomed. More of the point, my people would not be happy at a Starbucks, because to them, coffee wasn’t something to play with, it with something to get the job done. And that’s where canned milk came in. The strength and dedication to duty is initiated by a strong cup of coffee and if need be, if you will be so open about yourself and you can admit the need for some sort of milk in your coffee, then so be it, but you better be willing to open that can of evaporated milk and pour some in because if you can’t, or look down on someone who does, that tells us something about you, and you’re not going to like it.
The taste is old, tinny and rich, like my mother. The root of all dairy products condensed into a small, cheap can, often opened with a dull steak knife the cowboy way, rammed into the top, piercing the metal and sometimes, slipping and impaling the person’s hand. That will wake you up. We must do it this way because finding an actual can opener before the coffee is doubtful. Second, you make small holes, thus preserving the mystery that is Evaporated Milk for a long time, by limiting its exposure to air. Genius.
Speaking of the cowboy way, my mother’s favorite coffee is called “cowboy coffee”, which she makes in a modern home, but that is a story for another time.
Once you perforate the top with two small holes, one for pouring and one for allowing air to enter on the other side, your set, just pour the evaporated milk into your coffee and stir. If you’re living on the edge, sweetened condensed milk is for the daring, pre-diabetic folks. Yum
One step you will not forget is to put the opened can into the fridge so as not to repeat the warm milk experience ever again. But you will, and you do.
So what is the working class? What is being an adult?
Are we chained to the experiences of childhood, to the way things are done and what we battle to get over? Is my $8 Starbucks coffee better than cheap Folger’s instant coffee with a dash of canned evaporated milk? Probably. Then again, probably not.
- JK
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Lukewarm Evaporated Milk Coffee
Oh, to wake up to the glorious aroma of freshly brewed coffee, only to find out there is not a drop of cream in the house. Not to worry, buddy, somewhere, back in the dark reaches of the baking pantry, a leftover from a Thanksgiving who knows how many years ago, would be a can of evaporated milk. But worry should be paramount in a situation like this when your happiness depends on the perfect cup of coffee! I’m here to tell you the perfect cup of coffee does not exist, save only in your mind.
Some mornings it does not matter at all as long as there is coffee. Your coffee. To start the day without this warm, invigorating safety blanket akin only to the womb is the way most of us have started our day. I argue that coffee is the dividing line between adolescence and adulthood, heralding many changes to many things, paramount is the taste buds and what you will consider “good”.
As a child, we learned that evaporated milk would almost suffice in the absence of actual cold, delicious milk, but if the tin can be room temperature and open hastily, you could put it on your cold cereal and have lukewarm watered-down milking cereal. Yum
It was underwhelming and barely palatable.
Then something terrible happened. I grew up.
All the adults in my family knew about canned milk, and often used it in their coffee, even if there was perfectly good, cold, delicious, half-and-half, or better yet, actual cream available for their morning coffee. I couldn’t fathom why.
The first time I had a cup of coffee it was with canned milk. I didn’t know what coffee tasted like and by the time I tried it I was 12 or 13 at my grandmother's house and I’m sure I annoyed her the rest of the day by bouncing off the walls. Occasionally she would let me have some of her coffee and out would come the canned milk from the fridge.
I knew no different. Until I did.
The first time I had a “real” cup of coffee, its burnt smoothness and its sweetness amazed me. My God, how many variations were available. I had arrived.
I was now a man of the world who could order his Starbucks double-shot cappuccino with skim milk and be proud as I waited in the caffeine line. There was not a can of evaporated milk anywhere in that Starbucks, and yes I looked for it. But it would not be there, it would never be there because my family wasn’t there and the people who drink coffee with evaporated milk would not have been welcomed. More of the point, my people would not be happy at a Starbucks, because to them, coffee wasn’t something to play with, it with something to get the job done. And that’s where canned milk came in. The strength and dedication to duty is initiated by a strong cup of coffee and if need be, if you will be so open about yourself and you can admit the need for some sort of milk in your coffee, then so be it, but you better be willing to open that can of evaporated milk and pour some in because if you can’t, or look down on someone who does, that tells us something about you, and you're not going to like it.
The taste is old, tinny and rich, like my mother. The root of all dairy products condensed into a small, cheap can, often opened with a dull steak knife the cowboy way, rammed into the top, piercing the metal and sometimes, slipping and impaling the person's hand. That will wake you up. We must do it this way because finding an actual can opener before the coffee is doubtful. Second, you make small holes, thus preserving the mystery that is Evaporated Milk for a long time, by limiting its exposure to air. Genius.
Speaking of the cowboy way, my mother's favorite coffee is called “cowboy coffee”, which she makes in a modern home, but that is a story for another time.
Once you perforate the top with two small holes, one for pouring and one for allowing air to enter on the other side, your set, just pour the evaporated milk into your coffee and stir. If you're living on the edge, sweetened condensed milk is for the daring, pre-diabetic folks. Yum
One step you will not forget is to put the opened can into the fridge so as not to repeat the warm milk experience ever again. But you will, and you do.
So what is the working class? What is being an adult?
Are we chained to the experiences of childhood, to the way things are done and what we battle to get over? Is my $8 Starbucks coffee better than cheap Folger's instant coffee with a dash of canned evaporated milk? Probably. Then again, probably not.
