My mother, her sisters, and their mother (my grandmother) loved this drink! I drink it now, at the wonderful age of 70!

I remember as a child my mother making Postum in the morning for breakfast and the smell that spread through the house. Had gotten in the past and missed it till now. Drink it instead of coffee due to gastric condition that you can’t drink coffee. Now at staple in our home. Two bottles at a time we order.

Our family used Postum to warm our bellies after being outside doing our farm chores on those wet, chilly days of Fall, Winter and Spring. Where oh where has my comfort drink gone. There’s nothing quite like it. Come to think of it I never had my acid stomach while I was able drink my Postum. Knowing it was safe and wholesome to consume allowed me to share it with our 5 boys. I need my Postum!!!!

I was reminiscing about my childhood. Growing up I remember Postum tasting so nice and soothing. And all the great memories associated with it: The good ol’ days when dad (91 now) and I would always make a cup to have with toast in the morning, or when watching a good film on tv in the evening in the ’70s. Or just during a nice quiet moment. I decided to look it up online to see a picture for the heck of it, as I remember dad telling me it was no longer available a while back, and to my great surprise here it is–on the shelves again, can’t wait to tell dad! I live in Europe now but can’t wait to load up on it when I return to the states for Christmas. cant wait to taste it!

In the 1950s we rented Mrs. Blackburn’s 140 acre farm 6 miles south of Roberts, Idaho. In the summer we raised hay, grain, and those famous Idaho Russet Burbank potatoes. Come winter my dad would drive his white 1952 GMC pick-up into Roberts each day to work in the potato warehouse. But before and after work he would milk our six Guernsey cows, and take the 10 gallon cans full of milk to the road for pick up by the Challenge milk truck. I was about 10 years old when I started checking his big black Thermos Victory lunch box when he got home, to see if there were any leftovers. Sometimes he wouldn’t drink all of his Postum from the Thermos bottle in the top of his lunch box, which mom made with that thick, fresh Guernsey cream. I was the happiest boy in Idaho when there was leftover Postum. It was a treat. There was something amazingly tasty and aromatic about that Postum that had steeped all day in the spud warehouse.