"Milk - all kinds"

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This was an exact quote on a menu at a pretty fancy hotel back in the mid to late 1980s, in Nashville. I was not in Nashville for the country music... not a country music fan. I did get to pet a horse, I do like horses, but I wasn't there to pet a horse either, that was just a bonus. No, we, Connie and I, were there because Tom Baker and Colin Baker were there for a something... It was my only chance to meet Tom Baker, it was, I think, my third and final time to meet Colin Baker. Now, we couldn't afford to stay in the fancy hotel, but just down the block was a less expensive one that we did spend 2 nights in. The hotel we were staying in didn't have a restaurant, but did have a little convenience store - I managed to heat up something I had brought with us because I was still in the early days of my food allergy diet - and I had discovered I really don't like raw broccoli. The nice guy in the convenience store let me nuke the broccoli, yes, we did buy other stuff there. However, the first morning we were there, we went over to the fancy hotel's restaurant for breakfast. That was when I spotted the above notation on the menu. The waiter, a super chill older dude was our waiter. He asked if we were ready to order. I told him I had a question. I asked him what kinds of milk did they have. "Well, regular milk... low fat milk... chocolate milk... maybe... maybe butter milk..." I'm still looking at him expectantly. "What do you want? Goat milk?" Connie started laughing, I reached down beside myself and said: "As a matter of fact, I brought my own."