Sunday, March 20, 2011

Have you ever tasted your own breast milk?

Recently the BBC reported that an ice cream shop in London is selling ice cream made from human breast milk. Would you be interested in trying it? I'm not sure I have any desire to try another woman's breast milk, however, the idea of it does not gross me out. In fact the greatest deterrent for me, besides the Atlantic Ocean, is the expensive price tag.

All this reminded me of a time when Micah was about two months old and we visited some dear friends for the Forth of July. I had generously pumped a bottle of breast milk so that my friend could feed him, but before warming the bottle she asked what it tasted like and didn't hesitate to try it! I hadn't even thought to taste my own breast milk! I couldn't let my friend taste it and not try it myself. It was bland and sweet.

My mother loves to tell the story of a little girl she met when I was nursing. The girl was 4 and still breastfeeding. When asked what breast milk tastes like she said, "Cookieish." So, I guess ice cream isn't such a far leap for breast milk to make, and might even have less sugar added.

Have you ever or would you ever try your own breast milk?

1 comment:

  1. Not only have I tasted my own breast milk (which I have always said tastes like melted vanilla bean ice cream), but I have had a whole group of people taste it as well. Here is how it happened:
    One Summer I was vacationing in the keys with several of my closest friends and some of their friends. We were camping out on one of the little islands, and the closest grocery store as a good 20-25 minutes over some bridge-- onto another island and what not. One morning one of our friends decided to make pancakes in the shake and pour containers they make (which is perfect for camping!). However, the griddle we were using on the open fire grille was apparently not conducive to making these watery pancakes because they kept sticking to the griddle and burning. This, coupled with the liquid consistency from the water, proved to yield some un-appetizing pancakes.
    My daughter was only around 9 months at the time, so I was militantly pumping and dumping to keep up my milk supply. I guess the idea rather came to us all around the same time when the cook announced that we should have purchased some milk on our last grocery store trip.
    We cracked open the other “shake and pour” bottle and a few minutes later we were all enjoying the fluffiest, flavorful breast milk pancakes.

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