The other day, I was at the store and something occurred to me: I had not had chocolate milk in a long, long time. Chocolate milk is one of my favorite things in the whole world; as far as chocolate flavored drinks are concerned, chocolate milk is third only to chocolate shakes (second place) and Frosties (the best chocolate drink in the whole wide world, bar none).
So I got some powdered chocolate milk mix. This may be a controversial choice for some people, namely chocolate syrup-lovers. But I never liked chocolate syrup. It’s like the nicer version of chocolate powder, and I dislike it in much the same way as I dislike the non-powdered cheese version of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (that silvery packet of pre-mixed cheese sauce grosses me out) and any flavor or Top Ramen besides Chicken and Creamy Chicken (you can keep your fancy-schmancy shrimp and beef flavors). So powder it was.
I didn’t have a glass of chocolate milk as soon as I got home because I knew I’d be forcing it. I wanted to know that chocolate milk was available to me as soon as I got a good, solid hankering for it.
Less than a week later it was time. I was relaxing with the Roomies and I realized that I was a) thirsty, and b) currently experiencing the medical malady known as “sweet tooth.”
The path was clear. It was time for chocolate milk.
What I didn’t count on was my Roomies going apeshit and wanting some too. It was understandable though, and I was more than happy to oblige. There was plenty of powdered chocolate milk mix to go around. This gave me an opportunity to observe their mixing technique, which is, in my opinion, just as important as the powder/syrup issue. There are two techniques.
The Roomies went with technique one: each put two heaping spoonfuls in their respective cups, added milk, and stirred like crazy.
This is wrong.
Technique one leads to sludge at the bottom of the cup.
When I was a kid, I loved the sludge. When I was done, I would tilt the cup way up, position my open mouth at the bottom, and wait for the sludge to slowly creep its way down. Then I would chew the stuff, which was slick on the outside, and powdery on the inside. Only kids can enjoy this. Kids also eat frosting and leave the cake. As an adult, though, I now appreciate the fully-mixed cup of chocolate milk, one that I can sip away at for a little while, and then, at about the halfway mark, finish in one long swallow. I drink orange juice this same way. It allows for measured enjoyment for a while, and then the kind of flavor “hit” that only someone who drinks or smokes or does drugs to excess can appreciate. Having a pile of sludge at the bottom after drinking my chocolate milk in the sip-sip-sip-then-guzzle manner would be like chewing the ice at the bottom of a cocktail, eating the filter of a finished cigarette, or drinking the bongwater: more of the same, but worse. As far as I know, there is only one way to ensure that there is no sludge at the bottom of my chocolate milk without using a blender, and that is technique two.
Technique two is the exact opposite of technique one. It involves timing and finesse, as well as a solid knowledge of the relationship between color and flavor. First, put milk in the cup. Next, take your spoon and begin stirring the milk, not too briskly. You want a consistent mini-whirlpool. If tiny drops of milk are flying out of the cup, you need to slow it down a bit. Once you have the correct spin on things, with your free hand, grab the open container of chocolate milk mix and position it over the mini-vortex. Now, ever so gently, begin tapping the container with one of your gripping fingers, and little bits of powder will begin to trickle out. It is important that you do not stop stirring, and it is equally important that you do not go overboard with the tapping. Not enough stirring or too much tapping will lead to clumps, and clumps sink and become sludge. So stir, and tap, and if you are doing it right, the milk will magically begin to get darker and more chocalatey every second, without any clumpage. If you drink a lot of chocolate milk, you will know the color you like it, and can stop at the exact moment that your mix reaches that color. If not, you are on your own, but keep in mind that grade school chocolate milk is a lighter brown, and bottled Nesquik is a darker brown with a little more thickness to it (If you prefer Yoo-hoo, stop reading this and throw yourself out the closest window, or just omit milk and substitute used toilet water. Yoo-hoo is some gross and terrible shit. This is a fact). I like my chocolate milk slightly darker than grade school brown.
We stirred away, each of us remembering the last time we had chocolate milk, and smiling because chocolate milk is fucking awesome and we couldn’t wait to drink it.
Well, everyone got their milk made and sat back down.
And for a while, all was right in the world.
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