Finally.
Finally,
we have camel milk demanding the sort of attention it clearly deserves from the
Australian public as a viable alternative to the tired old liquid we have
traditionally extracted from the udders of cows.
Long
have I heard Australians bray in distress about the pitifully small selection
of milk—and milk sources—we have available.
This sacred
white nectar of the desert beast, then, is the very least we deserve.
I say: we
milk cows, goats, soy beans, rice and almonds, so why not milk a camel? Why not
enjoy its life-sustaining treat? Why limit ourselves when confronted with a
product that demands a milk additive to archaic tradition and subjective notions
of taste? Why, when I am enjoying cereal, tea, coffee, or perhaps making a
dessert, should I be constrained in my choice of milk when there is camel milk
out there, waiting to be consumed and appreciated?
Choice is a
core value in a democratic society and I feel that there can never be enough
choices. Particularly, when it comes to something which as vital to the
functioning of life as milk.
And why don’t
we ever think of the nomads? As a society, Australians value hard work,
ingenuity and creativity. To then ignore camel milk is to ignore the determination
of the brave—one may say, ‘heroic’—desert nomads who first thought to
themselves, ‘I’m gonna have a crack at milking that wild, spitting, grumpy,
humped bastard. Because, dammit, I really need something to wash these weetbix
down and water just doesn’t cut it no more.’
We owe it to
those plucky souls to enjoy the fruit of their toils; to appreciate the sheer
genius of attaching a handmade, ivory tap to the hump of a camel to withdraw
its milk, a task as harrowing as it is later fulfilling when downing a warm,
nutritious cup of camel milk.
They have
given us what we didn’t necessarily know we wanted, but which, deep down, we
were subconsciously crying out for. They have filled the recesses of the camel
milk void in each and every one of us. We are now a more satisfied people as
our milk choices expand out before us reaching out to animals and plants and
possibilities we never dreamt could become reality. Surely, owl milk is just
over the horizon?
Friendly to
those who are lactose intolerant, with more salt on the palate, and additional Vitamin
C, camel milk lurches past the faux health benefits of soy and almond milk,
whilst easily evading the fallacies of skinny (or skim) milk. Moreover, the
very act of drinking camel milk is loaded with an imparted self-satisfaction,
so that in swallowing it the recipient feels the kind of heavenly bliss we
usually associate with being inarguably correct.
Why would you
not want to drink a camel milk caffe latte? Why would you not submerge your
Special K with camel milk? Why use formula for your baby, when camel milk is
the perfect substitute for breast milk, coming as it does from a similarly
shaped hump?
I, for one,
am planning to invest in camel milk farms, where hundreds of camels with
industrial sized taps attached to their humps reign freely, spitting and
making their spittle-loaded throat noises, waiting their turn to have the tap
turned on and, thus, be milked. It is the future of not just milk, but the
entire culinary culture of Australia.
Let us all
enjoy a refreshing cup of camel milk. Let us bow our heads to our wild herds of
camels as more than foul-tempered pests. They are divine creatures, filled with
a satisfying treat.
Bless you
camel milk.
