Milk is part of the recipe
We spend a lot of time adjusting coffee.
The dose. The grind. How much espresso ends up in the cup.
Then the milk goes in, and we sometimes talk about it as though it has politely disappeared.
It hasn’t.
Milk isn’t a neutral carrier for espresso. It brings its own flavour, sweetness and texture. Whatever you pour changes the drink, just as surely as changing the coffee does.
We were reminded of this while tasting our Guatemala San Andres Geisha.
It’s a fully washed Geisha roasted for espresso, with notes of chocolate, oolong and chrysanthemum. We tasted it with the two milks we use at Prodigal: Meiji Full Cream Milk and OATSIDE.
The drinks didn’t taste the same.
The clearest difference was the OATSIDE. It took the coffee somewhere more dessert-like.
That isn’t praise or criticism. It’s simply what happened in the cup. The milk changed how we experienced the coffee, and the difference was large enough to make us stop and pay attention.
This is why choosing milk is part of building a recipe.
The question isn’t only whether it steams well or pours a neat heart. It’s also what that milk asks the coffee to become.
There’s been some interesting discussion about this in coffee recently. Baristas have been experimenting with dairy and plant-milk blends, particularly in competitions, to shape the sweetness, texture and flavour of a drink around a particular coffee.
We’re not announcing a secret house milk blend. Our fridge is complicated enough.
But the thinking behind it is useful: milk isn’t the thing added after all the important decisions have been made. It’s another ingredient, with a job to do.
You don’t need a competition routine to try this.
Make the same coffee with two different milks. Taste them close together, before your memory has time to smooth over the difference.
Don’t worry about finding the “correct” one. Notice where each milk takes the cup.
One might leave more room for the coffee. Another might turn it towards dessert. Your preference may change with the coffee—or simply with the kind of morning you’re having.
The recipe doesn’t end when the espresso leaves the machine.
Sometimes the next ingredient changes the whole cup.
With love,
The folks at Prodigal


