” If you have extraordinary bread and extraordinary butter, it’s hard to beat bread and butter.” ~ Jacques Pepin
Ah, butter! Slather it on a slice of warm crusty bread, watch a pat slippy slide down a stack of fluffy pancakes, feel it grease the corners of your mouth as you bite into a cob of corn.
Rich, smooth, creamy yellow — butter kisses your toast and ensures you will rise and shine. Ninety-nine percent of my cookie batters start off with creaming softened butter with sugar, beating till it’s nice and fluffy and ready for vanilla and eggs. There simply is no substitute: butter always promises superior flavor.
Elizabeth Alexander’s soul-nourishing poem, “Butter,” makes me think about my parents. My mother loves butter, but my father won’t touch it. If you dare offer her margarine, be prepared for a haughty, “I want real butter.”
With my dad it’s psychological. When he was little he once ate an entire stick in one sitting and got really sick. Well, who wouldn’t? The sight of butter, the smell and mere thought of it turns him off. But if he doesn’t know it’s there or wills himself to forget, he loves it. Case in point: pecan pie and butter toffee peanuts.
Because Dad didn’t like butter, Mom rarely cooked with it. But that didn’t stop us from loving, craving, and eating it, in any form, whenever possible. Once a butter baby, always a butter baby.
by Elizabeth Alexander
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Mmmmm! Now I’m thinking how long it’s been since I’ve dipped a chunk of lobster in drawn butter . . .*Maine fishing village reverie*
Just in case you’re craving a little more, feast on these amazing butter sculptures by Jim Victor and Marie Pelton. Udderly unbelievable!
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The warm and lovely Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is hosting today’s Roundup at The Poem Farm. I wonder if she’s churning some butter today. Enjoy all the yummy poetic offerings being served up in the blogosphere this week.
P.S. Butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Okay, you can have some.
“I always give my bird a generous butter massage before I put it in the oven. Why? Because I think the chicken likes it — and more important, because I like to give it.” ~ Julia Child
Copyright © 2013 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.