caffeinated

For kindergarten, first grade, and second grade, I went to Summit Hill School. Except for James, who came from England, and Viveka, who came from Sweden, I don’t remember much about the other kids. I vaguely recall that our readers featured Jimmy (the boy), Sue (the girl) and Pepper (the dog) and I know there were two huge fish tanks built into the wall outside the gym. But what I remember vividly, longingly, achingly is coffee milk.

In our cafeteria, at the end of the metal counter where we pushed our trays, there were three kinds of milk arranged in rows on the shelves. I usually refused to eat the food and I always ignored the chocolate milk and the plain milk. What I craved was the coffee milk, in its beautiful ecru containers. Oddly enough, none of my classmates liked coffee milk. But I loved it. It was sugary and creamy and delicious. It tasted like a cold heavily sweetened latte. I drank one every school day for three years, with the result that I'm walking anecdotal evidence for the old wives' tale that coffee stunts your growth.

Try it. Just mix two tablespoons of this tasty syrup (sold only by the case) with eight ounces of cold milk. Lots of sugar and lots of caffeine. What more could anyone possibly want?