I know what I did was wrong. I can’t un-do it.
Thirty years ago I accidentally saw Martha Stewart while flipping channels. She was making saltines. She had a special tool that punched the little holes. I have referred back to that moment ever since: seeing someone waste their time making something that is readily available, cheap, and of perfectly acceptable quality turned me off cooking and kitchens and raffia and (OMG SHOOT ME) simple, but elegant.
So today I made butter. The thought that Martha Stewart would be impressed makes me feel sick to my stomach.
In my defense, there was no butter at the store here. We were starting to get nervous. I had planned a lot of our quarantine eating around butter as it is two of my four food groups. What was I going to do if we couldn’t get it? I bought some heavy cream and hoped I could make it work.
Now, of course, there is butter in the stores.
I used mine to make blondies with M&Ms and peanuts.
The texture is a bit weird, but there is also no brown sugar at the stores, either butter or brown sugar or both could be the issue. They still taste good.
I needed something goofy and messy – it is a very gray, rainy, windy, gloomy day outside.
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