I couldn’t sleep Monday evening. I was still awake at 2am, staring out at the full moon thinking about tomorrow’s delivery.
Next morning while it was still dark, I opened my front door and there it was, just like I pictured it: A zinc box filled with glass bottles of milk and half and half.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. And for middle-aged kids, there is a milkman.
This week at Copywriters’ Kitchen we switched from factory-farmed organic to locally produced milk.
Insomnia? Christmas allusions? Over milk? Before you tell me to get a life, let me share why I’m so excited about this milk.
5 factors that mooved me to buy local milk
Aside from nostalgia, why pay extra for milk delivery from a local farm?
- Karma: For years I’ve known about the bad juju surrounding Big Dairy. It bothered me so much, I started drinking soy products. But my kids love milk. So bovine bliss—the ethical treatment of animals—was the #1 incentive for my switch from factory-farmed organic to local milk. And not just any local milk, but dairy from Ronnybrook Farm. “Our cows are like family to us…” declares copy on Ronnybrook’s website. My heart went pitter-patter. But remember, I’m a marketing copywriter who’s read—and likely tried—every copy trick in the book. So, alert for fuzzy claims, I read about the Osofsky family, Ronnybrook’s founders and owners—and their meticulous pasture-raised cow care. I’m certain that good karma passes from the Osofsky Holstein herd, into their milk and on to you.
- Magic: Now that my kids have grown out of Hanna Anderssons and into nose rings, I need all the enchantment I can get. It’s delightful to have milk appear on your doorstep. I’m not entirely convinced the Osofskys and the milkman are wholly responsible. It might be dairy gnomes.
- Labor-intensiveness: Home delivered milk involves extra labor. It takes many hands to run a small family-owned dairy farm that delivers milk daily. A dedicated milkman works a graveyard shift and winds down dark roads to deliver his precious cargo to you before dawn. Not to mention the gnome labor. I like that fact that locally produced milk requires lots of workers. What could be better for the US of A and our Great Recession? Unemployment is at an all-time high. Job creation is key to economic recovery. So why does business thrill to report replacement of real, live workers with machinery and digital tech? If you know the method to this madness, enlighten me…
- Flavor: Okay, for most people flavor is the first reason to chose locally produced dairy products. It is an important factor, so let me describe Ronnybrook milk’s deliciousness. First of all, Ronnybrook milk is unhomogenized: the cream floats to the top of the glass bottles to form a rich line. You have to shake the bottle to blend it. Then you pour the creamy goodness over steel cut Irish oatmeal, dip warm sugar cookies into it or drink it icy cold: I’m convinced milk from glass bottles stays colder.
- Freshness: Ronnybrook pasteurizes their milk but doesn’t ultrapasteurize. Milk comes straight from the cow to you, usually within a day. Ultrapasteurized milk, on the other hand, “keeps” for up to four weeks. Fabulous. For Big Dairy producers and grocers. But not so great for milk drinkers. Locally produced, lightly pasteurized milk tastes fresher and, well, just plain milkier.
Good karma comes at a cost.
All that for $2.49 a quart! I’m so happy.
But let’s put aside glibness. Ethically raised food is expensive. Our answer at Copywriters’ Kitchen is to eat less of luxurious foods like grassfed meat, eggs from pastured hens and Ronnybrook milk. We eat them less, but we enjoy them more.
Where to find locally produced milk in Westchester County, New York
My Westchester neighbors and I live in some of the country’s most affluent suburbs. Blessed with material abundance, it behooves us to make frequent deposits into our karma accounts—or risk incarnating next as a Con Agra dairy cow.
To arrange home delivery of Ronnybrook milk in Westchester, contact Starlight Dairy.
Photo of Holstein cow courtesy of Just chaos
Photo of gnome courtesy of Farmer Julie
Photo of soup line courtesy of Tony the Misfit