Society loves potatoes for their versatility: Deep-fried, mashed or made into vodka. But one brave Polytechnic tauira, Emily Gilbert, has invented ‘Spud Milk’ – a NZ first.
"Another icky health food!" you blurt out loud while reading this review. "Quality wasn't sacrificed for that accessibility!" they retort, from behind the bushes. When pressed, Gilbert explained this miracle. Before blending it until it was lovely and creamy, and adding a super-incredibly-top-secret trademarked "enzyme", she went halfway through the distilling process. You know, like how you distill potatoes into vodka. Suddenly, potato milk wasn't so hard to imagine. But it has 0% funny juice, so alcoholics accordingly gave it a 0/10. Sorry.
When asked to review this eighth wonder of the world, Critic naturally had a million and one questions. The mad genius explained that they had crafted the mother of all milks. Potato milk was locally-produced, nutritious and accessible: easy on FODMAP gut issues, gluten-free (Oat Milk isn't) and dairy-free*. What's more, it's not sold anywhere in NZ, or outside Europe or the USA for that matter. Critic Te Ārohi recruited some potato-fiends for their thoughts.
Chocolate Spud Milk:
Critic popped its potato cherry with chocolate spud milk. Three esteemed reviewers quickly downed their glasses and engaged in excited speculation. What was it most like: a smoothie, brownie, melted ice cream, or licked-spoon cooking chocolate? Could it be served on ice, with cereal, or even be made into coffee? It tasted like good boogie milk! So would it be advertised as high-end health food, or an everyday supermarket grocery item? Surely then, it was leading every single one of our highly-qualified and rather handsome reviewers by the nose.
Not quite. It was a rough first ride, and the staff who didn't plough into it ended up setting it aside. "Weird consistency", "viscous", and "bold" were common quotes from the other seven staff members. While the milk was lovely and creamy, it was also thicker than average milk. Good for some, bad for most. While some tasted no potato, those who did were struck down with a "gag-inducing", potato-y aftertaste. However, the consensus was that psychology nerds would have a field day with this. Potato milk was so impressive; but also so uncanny, so impossible. We imagined biting into a chewy, raw potato. Meanwhile, Emily's blind test subjects just thought it was some fancy dairy-free chocolate mousse
Average Grade: 5/10
Pairs Well With: Being thoughtfully served on ice.
Caramel Spud Milk:
One lonely print night, with not a breatha in sight, Critic tried a sweet treat. And this time it went down the ol' gullet much easier than its chocolate cousin. While sipping it like wine snobs, we detected a surprising "cinnamon-y" taste, which gave it a slight spicy twang reminiscent of a gingerbread man, of all things. While the chocolate was more like a thickshake, this felt closer to flavoured milk. Like good little critters, we followed this with consistent praise for the better consistency. When given a taste of this different reception, the manufacturer wondered if the addition of salt had made the difference. Emily, please, we really need an ice cream version of this. We beg. With dignity of course.
This would be the gold standard if not for strong opinions. Damn, damn those strong opinions. If you don't have a sweet tooth, this probably isn't for you. And one reviewer, allegedly known as "Jonathan McCabe", will forever live in infamy for saying it "looked like diabetes piss." It just looks like caramel. Such libel and slander has surely strangled this business enterprise in its cradle. Shame.
Average grade: 6/10
Ideal circumstances: Sipping it while watching the Spice Girls
Chocolate Spud Icecream:
"Holy shit"
Gas. Earlier predictions that this stuff would rock as ice cream were understatements. The commentary speaks for itself. Nina – as if watching her flatties do their dishes for the first time – exclaimed she was "pleasantly surprised." Zoe, who contributed "Mhhh," "Woahhh", and the fastest 10/10 in human history, reflected the mood of the room. Was Emily playing for the nicest thing since sliced bread?
Because damn, this is more than just "not potato-ey." The dessert had a nice softness, reminding us of marshmallows, without being too sweet or strong. In fact, its starch component was something you looked forward to: each bite brought a bit of coconut texture, but without that flavour. One reviewer compared it with that fancy Kāpiti stuff, and another went as far as to say it was "the nicest chocolate ever." Between that and the lovely, gooey and creamy (heh) choc sauce on top, we couldn't get enough. Critic kneels to worship this new spud-tastic king of kings.
Average grade: 9.3/10
Pairs Well With: A tasteful lad's night out at Patti's and Cream.
“Where can I get some?!” you ask. Stop! Stop that sinful sloppering and lusting over this potato-type product! Currently, you can't. Wait, before you lynch me, there's hope. The ever-enterprising Emily has been knocking on doors to pitch her product. Potato ice cream, milk, or even chocolate are on our shelves. You name it, it's a twinkle in her eye. Recently, management at the Patti's and Cream Diner were said to enjoy, and continue to be in talks on the subject. So, watch this space.
We reached out to Patti's for a detailed comment, but frankly, we did not give them enough time to respond. Woe.
*The printed article says that soy milk isn't dairy free. This is incorrect.