My son started elementary school this year, which means that I take a six-block walk with him each day to and from school, on a road that I rarely used to travel previously. This is relevant because on this very road, just about two blocks from his elementary school, stands the milk truck.
I first started to see the milk truck a couple weeks after he started school in September. The side of the truck proclaimed “raw milk – real milk.” I had heard of this so-called raw milk from gourmand friends of mine up in Piedmont, who sang the praises of both the unpasteurized milk and raw butter (the fatty portion of raw milk), but I’d never tried it.
A few times every week, there it stood: the little white milk van in the middle of an industrial parking lot. I never saw anyone buying anything. But every time, there it stood with the man resembling a farmer standing next to it. My son would say, “There’s the milk truck!” and I’d nod. Yep. There’s the milk truck!
Today we were walking by it on the same side of the street, and for some reason Vincenzo decided to stop and take a closer look. I stood and looked too. Was this going to be the day we finally bought raw milk?
“Buonasera, signora,” said ruddy-faced farmer-looking guy. Well, as far as I’m concerned, that’s the point of no return.
“Hey Vince! Want some milk?”
“Buonasera. We’d like some milk, please.”
And that’s when farmer turned on the van’s milk tap. SO FUN! Milking a van!
It costs €1.50 and comes in a clear 1-liter plastic bottle with no label, but if you bring your own bottle, you can save 30 cents.
The flyer I got along with the milk says that according to some law, I’m technically supposed to boil it before drinking. Clearly, that defeats the renegade deliciousness of raw milk, but, you know. It’s the law.
Mr. Farmer (I promise I’ll ask his name next time) asked if I’d like anything else: mozzarella? Ricotta? Yogurt?
That will have to be for next time. I’ll let you know if we turn into the happy, shiny family advertised below. Believe me: if this milk turns my kids into smiling angels, I will pay, boil, and even buy cheese and yogurt.
One thing is for sure though—that milk van is rocking the cow motif.