the things i do while the wife and kid are sleeping and the curtains are drawn
"oh," i said. "you're pumping."
"i feel like a cow."
"if you were a cow, you'd be the most beautiful cow ever!"
"uh ... thanks?"
"one of these days i'm going to have to taste that milk of yours."
"you keep talking big but i'm not seeing any action."
"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"
"i'm just sayin'."
and with that, i walked away with my tail between my legs.
BUT! it's 11 pm. wife has been asleep for nearly an hour, baby has been asleep for about two hours. it's almost feedin' time and I'M THE ONLY ONE HERE TO DO IT. you know what this means, right? time for a little mr nice guy taste test. i have portioned out 4 shimmering milky ounces of life-fluid for my child. it's bottled and ready to be warmed the second she begins screaming (which, if my calculations are correct, is in 37 seconds). the fat has separated from the rest of the milk, so it looks a little like salad dressing that hasn't been shaken.
there remains a single ounce for the tasting.
here i go.
wish me luck.
i am going to taste it now.
i really mean it.
down the hatch.
allllmost to the lips.
why is it chunky?
ah, it doesn't matter. prosit!
here goes nothing.
bunden i vejret eller resten i haret!
(that's apparently what they say in denmark. it means "bottoms up or the rest in your hair." don't you love google?)
did i just hear the baby cry?
hang on, i'll check.
nope. false alarm.
ah fuck it, here we go, then.
first, the pour:
hmm. formidable legs. no real nose to speak of. a little sediment, as i said, and perhaps a little yeasty. but definitely not corked.
sweet. light body ... obviously some residual sugar. but that's natural, considering the terroir.
let's try another sip:
a mild complexity ... a little buttery, just barely effervescent. the finish is a little tannic, actually. do i detect the onset of a little botrytis?
a little more:
no, really. it's quite tasty. let's let it breathe for a while. i'd quite like this in my morning coffee, i think. or perhaps to make some oatmeal. maybe mix a white russian with it.
and the rest ... down in one!
all in all, i can see why my frogdaughter is so inclined to imbibe -- maybe every two to four hours is a little excessive, but what the hell. bartender! i'll have another!