The butter story

Tonight as a dinner side dish we had rosemary-lemon bread, which I had made from scratch. I used rosemary and lemons that we grew in the yard, and had set the dough by the heater before bed last night for 18 hours of rising.

My husband joked, “If you really loved us, you’d have churned the butter fresh.”

I once tried this.

When I was about 10 my mom and I bought cream for this purpose. It was going to be great fun. We put it in jars, put on a Chubby Checker album and went sock-foot onto the hardwood floors to shake it up Twist-dancin’-style.

We shook and we shook and we shook. It didn’t turn into butter.

My mom said, “No problem. We can add sugar to it and we’ll have whipped cream.”

So we did, but we didn’t. Guess what happened after it sat in the fridge. It hardened into butter. Sugary butter.

It was awful on garlic bread.

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One Response to “The butter story”

  1. Gunky Says:

    When I was in preschool I remember shaking cream until it turned to butter. It was painful.

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