A few weeks ago I started craving a milkshake. Not just any milkshake but the kind we used to have when I was growing up. All three of us kids would join my dad in the kitchen. I think I can even remember all of us sitting up on the counter, waiting for a little taste of what was being put into the blender. We'd open our mouths like baby birds as we got a little bit of ice cream to sample. So tasty and so fun.
First my dad would crack some eggs into the blender. I faintly remember it being one egg per person. Next was the milk just before the ice cream. The blender turned on and whirled away as more ice cream was added to get the perfect consistency. At the end, the finishing touch - a little bit of orange juice concentrate. We loved these milkshakes and thought they were the best in the world.
It had been years since I had this particular milkshake. (During high school my preference was a nice thick 'shitty shake', or chocolate, as my friend and I would pick them up in the drive thru.) So after two or three days of wanting to taste this childhood memory, I picked up the ingredients and got rather excited to make one with Sweet One. (I opted to veto the egg just to be safe since I'm still nursing Little Man.) It whirled and looked so incredibly thick and tasty.
I poured some for Sweet One but she said, "No thank you!" Next was my glass. I made quite a bit because there was still some in the blender and Big Love didn't want to help. The moment I started drinking it I was completely disappointed. What was with the sour smell? There was no rich vanilla-ish flavor. Every mouthful made me wonder why I remembered it so fondly. Near the end, still wondering if perhaps some milk had dried and soured in the blender, I remembered that if I'm all out of buttermilk I can substitute regular milk with lemon juice in it. DUMBASS! The orange juice concentrate was the culprit!
I think I'll go back to my shitty shakes. At least they don't taste like soured milk!