It’s no secret that I love butter. Mostly in pastry form, but it’s also divine added to freshly popped pop corn or a plain old crusty end of baguette. I’ve been known to throw a few extra tablespoons into my chocolate chip cookie dough, just for good luck. A small pat smooshed with minced garlic does wonders for a simple slab of steak. I’ll admit that I’ve strongly considered eating it by the spoonful.
And here the butter is just quite simply otherworldly. Even the lowliest of supermarket brands somehow seems richer, more decadent than anything back home. Probably because it’s often sprinkled with chunks of sea salt or produced from a lone herd of cows somewhere on one specific mountainside eating a certain type of clover.
But while whatever they’re doing over here to their dairy products is magical, I also feel it’s a bit worrisome for my arteries. And my ass. So when opening a package du beurre yesterday I felt very reassured to find the following message on the back:
“BREAD AND BUTTER make up part of a recommended breakfast”
Well hot damn! The nutritionists themselves want me to eat butter every day. I can even throw in some fruit and another dairy product if I want to. And here I’ve been wasting valuable breakfast time on GoLean Crunch and oatmeal! From here on out it’s gonna be toast slathered with salty butter and strawberry jam.