Curiosity ~ Lucidity ~ Humanity
The name immediately springs to mind rationing and WWII, which is no doubt where my mother got the idea that milk powder was something economical. As a doctor, she required her four children to each drink three 8oz. glasses of milk every day. Not surprisingly this ate up her milk budget quicker than you could say, well, milk powder.
The milk powder was used to cut the whole milk and therefore stretch out the volume, which by virtue of my mother’s nutritional requirement had us going through about a gallon a day. With the powder, which yes, was as horrible as it sounds, we could double the volume at a much-reduced cost.
I never had an easy time with this demand. I’d try to choke down the full glass of milk in the morning, but if I failed, then the glass would just get put into the refrigerator for me to face at the next meal, with another glass lined up as well. The last thing you wanted was refrigerator milk which bloomed with every other smell from inside that box. It tasted chalky and like onions, and you had to be very careful to avoid the sludge at the bottom of the glass, where the milk powder had fallen and congealed.
I struggled with this daily torture for years until I was about 10 and my mother discovered coffee syrup which she would allow me to add to the milk to make it more palatable. This was a savior and naturally led to a lifetime habit of coffee drinking.
However, into my teenage years from age 14-18 I was troubled with daily stomachaches. The milk was still a constant in our lives. I sputtered my way through as much as I could but often failed miserably.
I was finally taken to an internist who told me that I was “a flower child in a family full of straight people”. And though his characterization was not incorrect, the diagnosis was essentially “it’s all in your head little girl” and proved to be of no help besides making me more “othered” in my family than I already felt.
Eventually my mother discovered lactose free milk. Suddenly my stomachaches vanished, and I went off to college avoiding all dairy and immediately felt better than I had in years. I was and still am lactose-intolerant. Thanks for the milk, mom.
When I cleaned out my parents’ pantry three years ago, together with the 20 cans of tuna fish, 10 cans of tomato sauce, boxes of sugar and other baking items I’m sure my mother never used, there was, low and behold, a bag of milk powder. I packaged it up with the other items I and though I donated most of the canned goods, albeit not knowing for sure their expiration dates, that pouch of milk powder remains.
Overtime, I’ve seen a few recipes that call for milk powder, to enrich a dough or some other baked good, but I’ve never been inspired to use it up. Is it still good? Probably. I’ll bet it lasts for years, just like the awful taste of refrigerator milk that lingers in my memory.
So I asked Claude (the AI Claude) to give me some recipes that include milk powder. Why, did you think I was going to throw it out and be wasteful? And hear my mother’s disappointment in me from her grave? Not likely.
So here’s a recipe even a milk powder hater like me could enjoy -
Savory Biscuits
Ingredients:
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup powdered milk
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 tbs seasonings of your choice – herbs, spices
• 1/3 cup cold butter, cubed
• 3/4 cup cold water
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 tablespoon additional seasoning of choice for topping
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 425°F (220°C).
2. Combine flour, powdered milk, baking powder, salt, and seasonings
3. Cut in cold butter until mixture is crumbly.
4. Add cold water and mix until just combined.
5. Roll out dough and cut into rounds.
6. Brush tops with beaten egg and sprinkle with additional seasoning.
7. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Tips for Success:
• Keep ingredients cold for fluffier biscuits
• Don’t overmix the dough
• Use a sharp knife or biscuit cutter for clean cuts
• Powdered milk adds richness and helps with browning
• These biscuits are best served warm from the oven
Nicole Goldman Bio-Fragment: Dear Diary, Today was an ordinary day. I rose about 8am. My breakfast consisted of homemade coconut chia pudding with berries and granola. I read the New York Times, plodding through sections, and avoiding articles that would make my blood boil, racing to the Arts and my beloved KenKen and crossword.
As usual, eating breakfast made me think about what I would make for dinner. Going over in my mind what might be in the fridge and was next in line to be used – some chicken thighs, a piece of fish, wilting chard or bok choy. So would I go contemporary American cuisine, or more Asian or Italian? Recipes would unfold in my mind and be reimagined as the day went on, or my husband put in his two cents, or when I finally opened the fridge to cook and found out I had misjudged the amount of mushrooms available, or saw that the cheese really had to be used, and no, it could not be ignored one more day.
It wasn’t always like this. When I was a young mother, dinners had to exist on three levels – one for my husband and I with the highest level of spice and ingredients, a simpler version of this for our eldest and a blander, whiter version our youngest who would never ever consider a brussel sprout, but is now a budding foodie himself.
And before that, growing up in my parents’ world, food was a chore to my busy doctor mother and Manhattan-commuting father. Who had time to worry about spice, flavor, variety or vegetables? There weren’t as many choices in the 60’s either. Fresh fruit and vegetables meant bananas and apples, carrots and potatoes, no leeks, shitakes, arugula or snow pea pods. Chicken was chicken. Beef was a roast. And being a vegan might have meant you arrived on Earth by UFO...
Much has changed in the world and in my own food story along the way. Influenced by world travels, by my mother-in-law’s New Orleanian heritage, by availability and the region I now live in on Cape Cod. My mother may never have taught me how to cook, but along the way I’ve picked up quite a bit of information, and dare I say, talent, or so say friends and family. Today was a good day. Dinner was shredded chicken with over bucatini, blanched broccoli and snap peas in peanut sauce with a radish, cucumber and avocado salad on top.