re: #319 Eventual Carrion

My youngest son still laughs when I take the milk out of the fridge and shake the jug. It is just habit, a good feeling I guess. He would say, “why did you do that”? I grew up in the days when the milk got delivered from the farm up the road (backwoods Pennsylvania). It was pasteurized, but not homogenized so it would separate while it sat. Just mixing it back up again.

Everything at our highschool was run by the kids, including the small dairy operation. Amateur pasturized burned milk is one of the enduring memories.