Thursday, August 10, 2006

Ah, Tuscany sells groceries, including Tuscan milk (from Brooklyn NY). Here's a review, from a NYT story and reported by (which I love.)(Sorry 'bout the length, but it's worth it.) started as a bookseller, but these days it sells just about everything, including groceries. The New York Times reports that Amazon users have been posting "hundreds of reviews . . . for a $3.99 gallon of Tuscan-brand whole milk."

Browsing the reviews, we're not sure all of them are on the level. This one, from Philip Tone (apparently his real name), seems like a satire of wine reviews:

One should not be intimidated by Tuscan Whole Milk. Nor should one prejudge, despite the fact that Tuscan is non-vintage and comes in such large containers. Do not be fooled: this is not a jug milk.

I always find it important to taste milk using high-quality stemware--this is milk deserving of something better than a Flintstones plastic tumbler. One should pour just a small dollop and swirl it in the glass--note the coating and look for clots or discoloration. And the color--it should be opaque, and very, very white.

Now, immerse your nose in the glass and take a whiff. Tuscan transports you instantly to scenic hill towns in central Italy (is that Montepulciano I detect?)--there is the loamy clay, the green grass of summer days, the towering cypress. And those gentle hints of Italian flowers--wild orchids, sunflowers, poppies. Then, one takes in the thick liquid and lets it roll across and under the tongue--what is that? perhaps a hint of a nutty Edam cheese?

With Tuscan, you feel the love of every dairyperson involved--from the somewhat sad and deranged farmhand shovelling steaming cowpies to the bored union milk maiden dreaming of leaving this soul crushing life behind for a job waiting tables for obnoxious American tourists in Siena.

But not too fast--sip gently, slowly, or one is in danger of not only missing the subtleties of the milk's texture and its terroir, but--if chilled too long--also of giving oneself a blinding ice cream headache. Nay, savor the goodness that only dairymen and dairywomen working at the apex of their craft can deliver.

Tuscan is best drunk young--no, no, don't cellar this gem--I guarantee you'll be sorry if you do. I recommend pairing with freshly baked macadamia nut scones. Milk Expectorator gives this one a 92.

On the other hand, "VR" of Albuquerque, N.M., writes that Tuscan milk is "not good for roof leaks":

I had a problem where my roof was leaking. I poured some Tuscan Whole Milk over it to seal it up and it just flowed right into the hole and didn't do anything. I now have milk constantly dripping down from the ceiling and it has stained the drywall as well.

Now that we can believe.

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