The “Hops” denotation of this blog will have to lay in waiting for a while now, as I am not supposed to drink any alcohol during my time on a certain medication. However, today, as my beer substitute, I had a malted milkshake made by my lovely wife.
Quality. From the simple ingredients of vanilla ice cream, a drop of vanilla, a splash of milk, a squirt of Whopper’s syrup, and a couple pours of half-and-half, a stupendous beer substitute was born. The kind where saliva keeps coming to your mouth after it’s done because the sheer memory of the taste is so delectable that your brain doesn’t yet realize that no more food is in your mouth. The kind that makes you reflect on its worthiness for the next half hour. A tastiness that just gives you pause every half hour after that, and makes you turn and say to your wife, “That was a really good milkshake.”