Book of Brewvelations, Chapter 2
In the twilight of Keto Lent’s strict decree,
milk of the oat forbidden as flavours flee,
There dwelled a woman of discipline and quiet rebellion.
The unshaken skeptic of the Milk Substitute Deception.
She had known many a milk that was but false,
yet endured countless cups of coffee pours.
✨ The Quest of the Cream
Upon the break of every dawn, a ritual quite the same.
A cup. A pause. A plea. Another cry in vain.
“Baby,” she whispered, voice like almond silk,
“If we can use two spoons of almond milk… can we not try oat instead?”
And there he stood, Her Dravidian Knight.
Battle-scarred from kitchen war, with a tummy bulge – a show of might
He looks into her eyes, he pauses,
He stares
he leans forward and says in but two words
“Fruck Yes!”
And so the maiden spoke, the silence broke, and thus; this Croffee quest awoke
✨ The Making of the Cream
15 mils of heavy cream, like before, his quest begins
30 mils of some oat gleam – sweet, but without the sin.
Treacherous is the alchemy that births milk worthy of a Queen
A milk forbidden by the lords of macro law
But creamier and tastier than common lore
Yet hidden in this balanced substance –
’tis lighter on sin than a nun’s conscience.
✨ The Moral of the Cream
This was never just about coffee.
It was love. It was flavour.
It was the holy refusal to sip what tasted of water.
The first taster.
The voice. The spark.
She whose plea did not just cream the cup – It crowned her,
unseen, unshaken:
First Lady of the Creamed Order.
And her Knight, he rides no longer for glory,
but for flavour.
For fat.
For Keto.
For story.
“Lo, for he did not chooseth the Croffee life. The Croffee life choseth him.”