Tag: Milk

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Drink Whey More Milk

A man I sit next to at work drinks four pints of skimmed cow juice a day. He chugs it straight out of the bottle like a breast-starved baby and then heartily wipes the back of his hand across his milky mouth, satisfied. He’s a muscular man, a gym freak, and swears by the white stuff as if it’s natures protein shake. I call him Milky Joe.

Since witnessing the extent of Milky’s namesake consumption, I felt it only right to research the nutritional facts, without skimming any of the details. Was it, like he said, the elixir of youth and should I become a member of the Udderly Fresh Fan Club? If so, how would I cope on a hot day?

1. Whey more protein than your average shake. After a serious workout, the minerals (protein, calcium, zinc, vitamins A, B, iodine, potassium) in a cool glass of moo-tonic can help to soothe the lactic acid woe of muscle cramp. Whey and casein are the most common forms of protein in expensive body building supplements and work to rebuild muscle density after physical activity. Therefore, by drinking more milk, you can look like Jodie Marsh in no time.

2. You won’t have a cow, girl (or, No More Bad Mooooods). Being a woman, I’m allowed to admit that we can be irritable thunderstorms of head-biting fury one minute and weeping heaps of vulnerability the next. Don’t blame us, blame PMT (and try putting yourself in our shoes, I mean you don’t have to deal with any of this, I do and I’d like it if you could support me, I’m so sick of you never putting the toilet seat down and eating all the Oreos. No, come back, cuddle me, I love you so much, I’m sorry, I’m a mess, it’s not your fault, what do you mean I look funny when I cry? You’re so insensitive. I hate men. You’ve not got a clue what I’m going through! No, don’t leave, I’m only kidding. You’re so gorgeous. Let’s go to bed.). Luckily, recent studies have shown that a calcium-rich diet may ease the physical and emotional symptoms of PMT, including mood swings, backache and cramps. Emotionally stable girlfriends FTW!

3. Have full fat dreams. As the old wives tale goes, drinking milk before bed really does help you to sleep. Hot, cold, warm or tossed over a salad, milk is nature’s Valium. I like mine in a sippy cup with a dash of cinnamon and an episode of In the Night Garden. How about you?

4. Look the cream of the crop. Apparently, Cleopatra used to indulge in weekly milk baths to maintain her killer complexion. Packed with vital nutrients for skin, nails and hair, milk is the best source of sustenance for promoting external (and internal) beauty. You can even mix it (powdered, preferably) with a little honey and almond oil to make a do-all body mask of skin polishing goodness. Just make sure you wash it off before going outside or you might become a fast food joint for bumble bees.

5. Dairingly pearly whites. Calcium + teeth = reduced cavities, but you knew that already, right? The more milk you drink, the more you’ll get along with the tooth fairy, the more money she’ll bring. Therefore, drinking milk makes you money. Logic.

6. Don’t skim over allergies. Unfortunately, lots of babies are affected by an allergy to cow’s milk protein (not to be confused with lactose), which can be a feeding nightmare for new mum’s who can’t rely on their milk factories. If exposed to milk-protein, the baby’s immune system treats the protein as if it were an antigen, attacking the ‘infection’ with antibodies and so causing an allergic reaction. This leads to a screaming baby with runny eyes and itchy skin. However, high quality ELISA kits are being used to analyse milk protein in processed foods and this, ultimately, will improve the allergic milk market. Therefore, more people can join the Udderly Fresh Fan Club which can only be a good thing.

7. Milk is food and friend. Due to its extremely high nutritional value, milk is the only beverage in town that can be considered a food. It contains the same nutritious metrics as lots of protein-rich solids and has an ageless ability to nourish, meaning you can garner the benefits of milk from cradle to grave.

Milk is a companion that can accompany you throughout life, whether you’ve just hit the gym hard or been hit hard by Jim, the white stuff will nourish the pain whenever things turn sour.

Pun count: 10

July 6, 2012
7 Reasons I Should Have Made My Omelette First

Yesterday I made an omelette. Two in fact. While I don’t except any congratulations for this – I have, after all, done the same many times before – I am not averse to receiving any adulation you wish to bestow. That said, given the state of the second omelette – the one I had – you may find it more fitting to belittle and mock. I won’t hold it against you if this is your choice. I am, however, going to explain why the second omelette was such a disaster. There are – as I am sure you would expect – mitigating circumstances surrounding the event. Probably seven.

1. Rushing. I don’t know whether you have ever made two omelettes before, I suspect you are not as maverick as I and as such have not. Let me tell you now though, it is not as easy as it sounds. Unless you are a greedy bugger – or hungry – the chances are you are making two omelettes because there are two people wishing to have one. This was the case last night. I wanted one. My girlfriend agreed that she would have one. Being nice and not wishing to relinquish control of the frying pan, I made my girlfriend her omelette first. But then I wanted to eat mine with her. (I have long suspected we are the last two romantics in the Maidstone catchment area.) As a result I rushed the manufacture of my omelette. And as I am sure you are aware, a premature omelette is not an omelette at all. It’s a mess.

2. The Difficult Second Omelette. We have all heard of the phrase, ‘the difficult second album’. Apart from maybe Oasis. And Toploader. Though admittedly Toploader struggled with their first album too so maybe that doesn’t count. Anyway, I digress. My point is that the pressure was on and, instead of just concentrating on making the second omelette the best it could be, I tried to make it as good as the first omelette. As soon as I did that I was in competition with myself. And I cracked under the strain.

3. Whisking. The trick with making a good omelette mixture is not too whisk it too much. I forgot that it had been whisked before the making of omelette number one. So I whisked before construction of number two. The result was too light and runny. As a result I got air pockets under my omelette. I was trying to salvage the mission from that point on. And that is not an environment conducive to success.

4. Mixture Fail. There is also another reason omelette one was more a success. There was enough mixture to comfortably fill the frying pan. When it came to the second effort, there wasn’t. I’ll be honest. I was stretching the credibility of myself as an omelette maker here. Without enough mixture I added a little milk straight into the frying pan. That was stupid. The frying pan spat it back at me.

5. Tosser. To toss or not to toss? This question is widely debated in omelette making circles. I adhere to the point of view that – before filling is added – the omelette should be tossed. Yesterday, I tossed one of the omelettes and didn’t the other. I’ll let you guess which is which.

6. Filling. We have a rule in our house. As I am the man, I have more food. I like this rule and I didn’t even think of it. So when it came to filling the omelettes, I made sure there was more filling for me. Unfortunately, the amount of filling was calculated on how big the omelette would be. As my omelette was 80% of it’s intended size I really should have put 80% of the filling inside. But I didn’t. I’m a man. So I put it all in. And then I tried to fold the omelette in half. And that is when it snapped at the seams.

7. Manoeuvring. Taking the omelette from pan to plate should be a simple process. Assuming you have actually made an omelette it is possible to tilt the pan and watch the omelette slide into position. Which is what happened with omelette one. Omelette two though wasn’t an omelette. It was a mess. And the mess containing cheese which was now sticking to the pan. I had no option but to shovel it out. And that’s what I did.

November 12, 2010
7 Reasons to Replace Chickens With Flamingos

1. Flavour. We’re all familiar with the expression, you are what you eat. This is true; diet informs flavour. The diet of chickens is dull. Chickens are fed corn and grains and the sort of dreary stuff that we use to bulk-up stews and casseroles. Flamingos eat shrimp, which are wonderfully flavoursome, and a substantial portion of their flavour comes from these. Chickens taste dull; flamingos taste of fish, which is much, much better. Also, as you are what you eat, which would you rather be, a chicken or a flamingo?

2. Health. Most flamingos are wild and are, therefore, game. They are free to roam and free to eat natural food. Most chickens are not. Eating flamingos would, consequently, be healthier than eating chickens. It would also provide American hunters with exercise as they stalked their dinner by the lake rather than driving their pick-up trucks to the supermarket. They would also have to camouflage themselves in pink, which would give the rest of us a laugh.

“Billy-Bob, you’s a sissy.”

3. Leg. Everyone wants the chicken leg because it’s firm: this is because the leg is one of the few limbs that the sedentary farmed chicken exercises regularly – as a result of this, it is toned. Flamingos spend most of their lives standing on one leg – they alternate regularly between them. This means that flamingo legs are firmer and nicer than chicken legs. They’re also bigger. This will mean that sharing the leg becomes a possibility, saving mealtime arguments. Or it will mean that you get a bigger leg, it depends how mean-spirited you are.

4. Milk. You can’t milk a chicken. You can, however, milk a flamingo. We all know that the aisles of Waitrose are choc-full of people shopping for organic, Bermuda grass-fed, hand-reared, free-range Angora goat’s milk. Imagine how much they’ll want the new fad – flamingo milk. Waitrose shoppers will be buying so much flamingo milk that they’ll probably have to fold the seats down in their Audi estates to transport it home. They may even have to buy a second Smeg fridge to put it all in.

5. Farming. Eventually, of course, the new niche popularity of the flamingo will lead to a mass-market demand for it. This will cause flamingos to become the exotic farmers livestock of choice. These people are usually found experimenting with farming ostriches, which will be replaced by the new glamorous avian farming fashion – the flamingo. This is great, as I’m – justifiably – terrified of ostriches, with their cruel, murdererous eyes, their sharp, oversized talons and their menacing, powerful beaks. I have no fear of flamingos. They are pink.

6. Colour. There are few sites in the British countryside more breath-taking than vast swathes of bright yellow rapeseed in full bloom. With the new flamingo farms, it will be possible to stumble across fields full of pink clusters of gangly birds – all year round. This will brighten up the landscape no end, especially at sunset. Countryside campsites will become countryside camp sites where you’ll be able to enjoy the countryside camp sight of intense pink colours in tents (pink coloured).

7. Feathers. The best feathers for stuffing pillows are goose and duck feathers. Chicken feathers aren’t very good so they’re usually ground down and used in textiles and plastics. Flamingos – like geese and ducks – are water-birds so, presumably, their feathers also make good stuffing for pillows. Their colourful down would enliven pillow-fights no end. The abundance of pink feathers would make feather boas cheaper and more commonplace which may lead to a boom in the burlesque industry. Sadly, it would also lead to an increase in gaudy hen nights. You don’t have too much to fear from the greater incidence of gaggles of lascivious, portly, bingo-wing-sporting harridans drunkenly cruising your local high street draped in pink feather boas though, because with your new healthier diet of flamingo, you’ll be fitter and able to run away that much faster.

February 8, 2010
7 Reasons To Have Milk

1. You can play professional football. Or at least you can play for Accrington Stanley. A club whose trials – according to Ian Rush – include the ability to pass, shoot, head, tackle, swear at the referee and drink milk.

2. It stops you falling over. Milk makes your bones strong. Strong bones mean standing up straight. No one will laugh at you if you stand up straight.

3. The Milk Moustache. I don’t have to put my contacts in to realise that Elizabeth Hurley is a splendidly attractive lady. Though I did have to put them in to work out what was on her top lip in this ad. It’s milk. Definitely milk. I’ll be honest with you, it does something for me. Even more impressive is the choice of glass. Note it’s Hurley-esq shape. Clever. Anyway, drink milk to make a milk moustache and send the photos to us.

4. You’ve just won the Indy 500. Since the late 1930s, the winner of the Indy 500 has been given a bottle of milk to celebrate with. The driver even gets to choose from three different varieties. Whole, 2% or skimmed. I can only assume that caps react in different ways depending on the fat content.

5. You’ve got a banana. Don’t you just hate it when you discover a banana on your person, but no bottle of milk?

6. Play catch-up. Now, whether you think Margaret Thatcher was right to stop free milk for school children is an entirely different debate. Which is probably just as well seeing as I can only think of two reasons why it was a good idea and one reason why it was not. That’s well short of the seven reasons I need. But I digress. The fact is that Maggie did stop the milk. And as a result millions of children missed out on a pint of the white stuff every morning break. It’s time to play catch up before it’s too late.

7. You’ve been lied to. You see those white marks on your fingernails? Well that is leukonychia. The result of a lack of calcium. Or so my parents told me when I was a child of the eighties. I am now 26 and I have just found out that this was a lie. A lie! A lie to make me drink more milk. In the last twenty years I have milked dozens of cows dry just to try and get rid of the imperfections. (The marks on my nails I mean, not the cows). And today, just after I have bought another eight pints, I find out that the white marks are just a result of trapping my finger in a drawer about six months ago. I’m incandescent with rage.

January 20, 2010