What could be better than bread and butter?

I was feeling a bit bad about my blog entry today. I was thinking that just making the announcement and bludgeoning all of you into supporting me wasn't exactly a post. I thought about bitching about the pollen or my taxes, but something happened to upstage my normal bitchy topics.

Traffic was awful, awful, awful tonight on the way home, so I stopped at the Kroger to kill a bit of time and get some food for the pantry. Their bakery had fresh crusty baguettes, and they smelled so good that I had to get one. I was thinking about the bread and butter that we got in France (I know, I know...), and how soft the butter was there, spreadable and so yummy.

Our landlady at the medieval goat farm B&B brought butter up in this little crock every morning. It was a small white porcelain ramekin, and the butter was always perfectly level with the top. You could see where she spun the back of a knife across the top, creating a small swirl and tiny point where the knife was lifted. I stared at that butter every morning, marveling at the difference in delivery, substance and taste.

It was with the memory of that butter, that I decided to do something that will, I am sure, strangle the life out of any last claim to cool that I ever possessed; I decided to churn my own butter tonight.

I know that several of you have laughed right out loud, and I can hear Lizard hooting with derision, but let me just say, DAMN was it good!

Before you start picturing me in a sunbonnet with a wooden churn, let me just say that the tool at work today was Tupperware.

This wasn't my first foray into the Dairy Arts. I remember in 3rd grade, my teacher, Mrs. B., sat us all in the grass, and put some cream in a Mason jar, and we all took turns shaking it. After what seemed like a lifetime to an 8-year old, we had butter and ate it on saltine crackers. I don't remember why we were doing it, but I remember the boredom and the fresh taste of the butter and salty crackers.

I thought I would try an updated version of the same process tonight. I bought a pint of heavy cream, and came home and put it in a small Tupperware container. Don't tell Peaches, the Queen of Canning, but I don't have a single Mason or Bell jar in the house. I wasn't sure how long I would have to shake it, and at several points, I thought my arm would fall off. The whole process only took about 15 minutes.

Initially, it was very sloshy, and the shakin' was easy. After a few minutes, it became sludgy feeling. After about 10 minutes, I opened the lid, and it was the most beautiful whipped cream. Very shiny and smooth. I put the lid back on and continued to shake, even though it didn't really feel like there was much movement inside.

I vaguely recalled from the elementary school example that at some point, actual chunks of butter would appear, and I kept looking for any sort of solid, but it still felt like shaking an empty container. All of a sudden, mid-shake, it turned into a solid, with a lot of liquid. It was crazy!

I kept shaking a bit more, to get one big clump and a decent amount of buttermilk. I drained most of the buttermilk, and squeezed the butter a bit in a piece of cheesecloth, to remove more of the liquid. I stirred the butter smooth, and added a bit of salt.

The whole process took less than 20 minutes, including the mid-salt sampling and exultations.

The fresh baguette, topped with a smooth and creamy butter, took me right back to old stone building on a hill in the South of France.