
Jeff announced our first delivery from Munroe Dairy as he carried in the crate: “You’ve got milk!” We’d gotten milk, also yogurt, butter and eggs, spinach pies, chicken salad and English muffins. Nicely chilled and well-wrapped, the items were delivered to our back door early Monday morning and placed inside an insulated metal milk box decorated with a stenciled cow on the front.
Home dairy delivery seems like a throwback to a bygone era when moms were likely to be at home, milk came in glass bottles, and dairy products were good for you. But it makes just as much sense today. No one has time to, or wants to, go to the grocery store. Glass bottles keep the milk icy cold, and can be returned, sterilized and refilled many times. Dairy products get a bad rap these days, but most of us aren’t going to give up cheese, butter, yogurt and ice cream.
The milk delivery service from Munroe Dairy, like many other experiences I’ve had since moving to Providence RI, has a friendly vibe. Our milkman Sean comes every Monday to deliver our order, which we can place any time up to midnight the night before. I get nice little text messages from Sean (“Hi, this is your milkman Sean … ”) reminding me to place my order. If I don’t feel like calling in my order or submitting it online, I can text Sean a list of what I want. The little Customer Preferences form I received with my welcome packet includes the question, “Do you have any hobbies or interests?” Ok, that’s a bit much – I don’t anticipate getting together with my milkman to jam on the ukulele or shop for shoes – but I appreciate the sentiment.
I have another milk story from last week. Sophie and I went to the Avon Theater on Thayer Street to see “Hunt for the Wilderpeople”. Like all my favorite movie theaters, the Avon sells coffee. (They also sell cough drops! Brilliant.) Back to the coffee: the man taking tickets in the lobby noticed that I was pouring a cup of coffee from the self-serve thermos and asked me if I’d like milk or cream. When I said, “Yes, milk please,” he replied, “I was afraid of that. We just ran out of milk!” He called up to the manager, who came down the stairs from his office and said, “Go ahead into the theater and find a seat. I’ll be back in five minutes with some milk.” The manager walked down the block to a convenience store and returned with milk and cream, then headed into the theater to find me.
Actually, I’m not that fond of milk. I’ll pour a little over my cereal, and add a bit to my coffee, but otherwise I never touch the stuff. It’s so bland, so white, so … milky! But how nice it is to see people going out of their way to get it for me, as if being attentive, kind and considerate were just part of a day’s work. Got milk? I sure do, and it’s never tasted so good.
Wow, those were the days when everyone left their doors unlocked! Hard to imagine now. But what a nice memory. Thanks Barbara!
LikeLike
Oh what a wonderful story. It seems you are in the right place. I remember the milkman. He walked right into our kitchen and put the milk in the fridge. Now that was really the olden days!
LikeLike