The joy of soy

Soy-milk-estrogen


Normally I buy a pint of milk once every two weeks.  I use maybe half of it, on cereal and in occasional baking/cooking projects.  Then I buy a new one and throw the old one away.  Expensive and wasteful.  But what’s to be done?

 

 

Well, there’s soy milk, naturally.  And cashew milk, and almond milk, and all kinds of other things.

 

 

I tried soy milk about two years ago.  I was suspicious of it; I was prepared for it to taste weedy and green and wild, not like milk at all, but like edamame, about which I am not crazy.  And, naturally, I conned myself into thinking it did taste like that, and so it fulfilled my worst expectations.

 

 

But it kept preying on my mind.  So, a few months ago, I bought two waxed-paper cartons of WestSoy soy milk, one vanilla-flavored (which sounded mostly innocuous and less like edamame), the other plain. 

 

 

I find that I like them both.  The vanilla soy milk is delicious on cereal – better than regular milk.  The regular soy milk is also not bad. 

 

 

Soy milk lasts a lot longer in the fridge than regular milk.  You have to shake it up before you use it, but I don’t have a problem with that.  And it’s faintly sweet (at least the WestSoy product is), which is pleasant.  I want to see how it works in baking projects, and mashed potatoes, and sauces, and things like that. Then we’ll see.   (It’s also – supposedly – packed with some botanical equivalent to estrogen, so I will be watching to see if it takes away any of my intense masculinity.)

 

 

My brother-in-law Dwight was a dairy farmer for years.  He and my sister used to leave little nasty notes at restaurants when they were served margarine instead of butter.

 

 

I can only imagine what Dwight might think of soy milk.

 

 

But, hey, you gotta live a little.


 

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About Loren Williams
Gay, partnered, living in Providence, working at a local university. Loves: books, movies, TV. Comments and recriminations can be sent to futureworld@cox.net.

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