Cloned Beef, Pork, and Milk): It's What's for Dinner.
Karyn Schauf sets a frosty glass of milk on the red-checkered tablecloth in front of me; a plate of Oreo knockoffs sits beside it. Two identical cows prance across the glass. In fact, nearly everything in the kitchenette � plates, cookie jars, wallpaper trim � is emblazoned with cows. And why not? We're next door to the Schaufs' 99-cow milking stables, Indianhead Holsteins, in Barron, Wisconsin.
I swirl the glass: A thick lather coats the sides. I sniff: It has a rich, almost buttery aroma. I hate the idea of milk over ice, but the drink is on the rocks because it was squeezed in a steamy, unpasteurized froth just half an hour ago from Mandy2, a 5-foot-tall behemoth with hindquarters as big as truck wheels and a posterior as flat and broad as the tailgate of a pickup. Her massive bone structure supports an udder the size of a beer keg, capable of producing more than 15 gallons of milk a day.
I sip: The milk tastes crisp and creamy, almost velvety � probably because it's fresh and raw. I dunk a cookie, and it gets soggy fast; when I bite into it, it feels like a chocolate milk shake on my palate. Schauf tips her own glass to her lips, chugs it in two big gulps, and sighs loudly.
"You don't have to drink all that if you don't want to," she says. But I do. Mandy2 has outdone herself. Her milk is delicious. There's no reason it shouldn't be, but I'm surprised.
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