Chasten My Casein: Day Two

I woke up to the most beautiful day of my residence in Portland thus far. Birds? Chirping. Sun? Actually shining. Roommates? All but The Vegan One sleeping. It was going to be a good morning.

Breakfast is important to me. I’d say that it falls somewhere between dry socks and breathing on my personally assigned level of importance. Without breakfast I have been known to overuse sayings such as, "I will cut a bitch," and to literally cry if I'm prevented from my morning consumption. My fervor for cereal with skim milk washed down with two cups of coffee and a helluva lot of Splenda (on everything) has been labeled OCD or batshit crazy by nearly everyone who has had the misfortune of seeing me in the morning, my mother included. If you value your genitalia you will not drink, move, or otherwise fuck with my skim milk. Or, as of this month, my Vitasoy milk. Same goes for my CoffeeMate.

One of the weird things that goes on in my head is the way that small things excite me. This seemingly asinine enthusiasm for minutiae has only been increased with my sobriety. Buying a new bottle of shampoo is enough to bring me to the edge of smug laughter. Non-fat French vanilla flavored CoffeeMate has been a perpetual bottle of bliss since my discovery of it on Long Island a mere year and a half ago. CoffeeMate is the elevation of breakfast. I am serious. It’s also the elevation of the workday, when I have one.

It even has the nerve to challenge the mother of all mothers to a battle. Nestlé says, “CoffeeMate. Dozens of Ways to Enjoy Coffee. Let’s see milk do that!” It threatens. It’s brash and not made with anything remotely natural. It’s commonly associated with women named Linda who have acrylic tips, drive Miatas, and chew gum during their shift at the salon.

I adore it. I practically bleed it. It’s like marshmallow’s tears. Or better.

Why I decided that today, my second vegan morning, where everything feels right, especially refraining from killing things for food or fun, to check the goddamn ingredients list on my heaven-sent non-dairy creamer is beyond me. I had asked this question to the blue bottle before.

Is it vegan?

It says non-dairy. That, prior to yesterday, was enough.

CoffeeMate, the non-dairy creamer, contains casein. What is casein, you ask. My response would ,as it is to most things, “Wikipedia that shit.”

“Casein (from Latin caseus "cheese") is the predominant phosphoprotein (aS1, aS2, ß) that account for nearly 80% of proteins in milk and cheese.”

Or, as it says on the bottle, a milk derivative.

I repeat, the non-dairy creamer. Has. A. Milk-derivative. In it.

Not vegan. Not even close.

Why is it in there? To improve the consistency of the stuff. Basically it’s like an emulsifier, from what I gleaned through several internet searches that were eventually derailed by porn. (You can take the meat out of the meat and potatoes but I am still an All ‘Merican, red-blooded gal.) Casein is something added to other stuff to solve any textural woes.

But it’s not just a hellion of breakfast destruction, oh no. Not only is it used in non-dairy products such as veggie slices and cheese singles, in part ‘cause it gets all good ‘n melty, but casein is used to make adhesives, protective coatings, and plastic products (“such as for knife handles and knitting needles”) while also being a post-workout supplement for bodybuilders. Yes, hipster, your knitting needles might be working in direct opposition to your veganism. Now go and knit your ennui a sweater.

Needless to say, I did not throw out the CoffeeMate. Rather, it’s resting for a month on our refrigerator door. Considering that it doesn’t expire until May 8th (yes, of this year, it’s artificial but it ain’t Cher) I figure I can lust after it every morning as I reach for the soy milk.

I did not check the ingredients list on my Corn Flakes. Don’t tell me. Until tomorrow I just don’t want to know.

Postscript

List of Things I Suddenly Miss Since I Went Vegan (Yesterday)
Yoplait
CoffeeMate (duh)
Eggs
Pine State Biscuits. Yes, I only had them once. No, I never missed them before, even though their awesomeness cannot be denied. For whatever reason, though, I have wanted a warm biscuit in the worst way since yesterday morning. Considering I live down the block from the joint it is going to be a long, dreary month exercising breakfast restraint.
(Pine State Biscuits, 3640 SE Belmont Street.)