I know. I’m all back-to-basics, American-agriculture-rules, whole-wheat-bread and no-skinning-a-good-potato girl. But I love flavored creamer. You know the kind – engineered from oil and Splash of Whiteness, and technologically altered to taste like something natural cream would never become – like Creme Brulee or Chocolate Cherry Awesome or S’Mores Sans Graham Cracker Chunks.
But I love it. All 100 calories per sip. Adam and I drink disturbing amounts of fake creamer daily, and we know it probably causes cancer, but we’re not giving it up, even if it flies in the face of all our other healthy habits, like Texas Queso for dinner.
Oh sister.
ME TOO.
It goes against all of my healthy habits, and every Seattle-Girl, Coffee-Purist bone in my body.
But holy Moses. Vanilla Caramel? Don’t mind if I do.
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