Some say I’ll put just about anything in my mouth, but I do have my limits. Like most people — maybe all people — I hate it when I brew myself a nice mug of steaming tea on a cold winter day, spoon in an extra lump of honey to treat myself and then pour in the milk only to find the whitener immediately coagulating into soft, fatty lumps that bob menacingly at the edge of the cup. Ooooo, I hate that and curse under my breath as I dump the spoiled beverage down the drain.
But I’ll admit that on more than one occasion I haven’t noticed the floating lumps (or maybe they simply didn’t float but hid like icebergs just below the surface), put the tea to my lips, pulled a swig and stood a moment or two wondered why the drink tasted so strange. It’s not that I don’t have a discerning palate, I think I have pretty adventurous palate. So if it takes me a minute or three to recognize that sour taste as milk past its prime, don’t judge me too harshly. I do believe there is some gray area in food safety.
No, no, don’t stop reading. I’m not Typhoid Mary, a witless carrier of pestilence who will sicken everyone around me through ignorance, arrogance or carelessness. I always take care to