In high school, chocolate milk made up too many of my daily calories. And perhaps water intake (there’s some amount of water in milk; it’s a colloid, right?). After a long run, after an hours-long homework marathon, whenever I wanted an easy dessert, chocolate milk was the answer.
Let me emphasize that my chocolate milk infatuation transcends the normal. I don’t merely enjoy this beverage when it is in front of me. I seek it out. I have endless and intense gastronomical opinions: when is there too much cream, when is there not enough; must the cocoa be balanced out with a hint of vanilla?
So imagine my dismay when I learned that the Yale dining halls do not serve chocolate milk. I was able to overcome my disappointment, however, when I began to eat the rest of what the dining halls have to offer: lasagna day and chicken tender Thursday are crowd favorites, the frozen yogurt in the Benjamin Franklin and Murray dining halls bring me immense joy, buttermilk pancakes at brunch get me out of bed and in line right at 11.
But my suite mate and I have discovered something truly wonderful. This amounts to a bit of a watershed. Arethusa Farm Dairy on Chapel Street – which sells ice cream and other assorted dairy products made from farm-fresh milk of their Litchfield, Connecticut cows – sells an expertly textured (rich but not indulgent), perfectly sweetened (presenting as the dessert it is without growing cloying) chocolate milk.
I’ve bought too much of it already and plan to buy even more over my next four years. I advise you to do the same.
