We’re on vacation. We’re someplace in Maine. This is the second or third day of nine. But maybe this is the morning of the second. Maybe we came in late last night.
The place to go is the Maine Dairy Farm. (Or farmers market) pronounced ‘fahm’ (or ‘fahmars’).
Actually the hotel kind of connects. I decide to go over there. I’m going room to room. Hmm… This is like an office building. .. desks, computers, people working, ECT. The walls are in need of painting. Maybe some of those walls have never been painted.
I keep moving.. nobody’s stopping me. I think the policy where I last worked, is too stop people, but not here.
As I think about it… I must have gone in the wrong entrance. I finally reach the market.
The market is surprisingly small. Smaller than that fudge place in apple hill. Of course.. alls they sell is milk. Just milk. Not 2 percent, not skin, not lactate free, not part of almond milk. Just milk.
What makes the place so interesting is the packaging. No boxes, no bottles, rather the milk is vacuum packed. Similar to vacuum packed salmon, but the square is the same size as a box of almond milk or a brick, and the square is fairly hard. In a package about the size of a piece of paper. Like a fairly firm block of cheese.
One thing that individualized the packaging is that each of the bricks were different sizes and shapes. The nice thing about these is they had no expiration date. (Maybe consume a week after opening the package)
Graphic Credits
Graphic Credits
I'm in am old grocery market. The walls need painting.
I'm looking into a freezer.
The freezer is full of small white packages. All square or rectangle, different shapes different sizes.
The adjoining freezer, the same