Today I discovered that there is such a thing as, "too much butter." Don't get me wrong, I LOVE BUTTER. I love it half melted on a freshly hand-torn dinner roll, still steaming. I love it cascading down the juicy kernels of corn on the cob. I love it sizzling in a pan of fawn as it begins to collect the juices of what will be the most deliciously rich and flavorful gravy.
What I discovered this morning as I bit into my grilled cheese sandwich is that the addition of butter alone cannot reinvent the stature of inferior ingredients. The bread, though crispy and golden, tasted floury and had a strange texture - not unlike the flavor and texture of undercooked roux. I accept full responsibility for substituting artisan with plain sliced white bread. What on earth possessed me to think that more butter simply meant bigger payoff? Butter - as amazing as its golden, creamy character is - cannot make bad food better. Butter, I realized, is not merely a tool in making foods richer, shinier, and tastier. It is to be honored, revered, respected.
What's your favorite way to appreciate butter?
